i will only be using this account to reblog my fics. since i tend to post a lot on my main and i know some people might only want to see my stories (which is totally valid). feel free to follow and turn on post notifs so you donât miss anything i write !!
(particularly good for those who donât want to be on the taglist but also donât want to miss anything)
cw- smutty stuff, free use concept but very much consensual (Rick x reader mostly but all of the boys x reader mentioned too)
note- small blurb thatâs totally not proofread, and will probably edit at another time. havenât written in a few weeks so feeling rusty⊠feedback is apreciated or just general commentary ofc. have been in a really lovey, gentle, sweet smut mood lately so this is what ur getting sorry. donât know why Iâm so obsessed with reader being a form of escape but⊠ya. enjoy:)
Been having the filthiest thoughts about being the community free use slut. Everyone using you to relieve some stress. Yes, you read that right; everyone. Youâre their perfect little plaything that will never say no. That just gets on her knees and takes it. No matter when or where.
It starts way at the beginning, with Shane and Daryl and Merle. Them taking turns dragging you to their tents, late at night when everyone else is asleep. Sometimes itâs just one of them, but other times they share. Take you at the same time and fill as many holes as they can. Leave you with the faintest blue and purple marks scattered all over your neck for the rest of the group to squint at in the morning. To gossip and whisper about over breakfast. Your berry stained lips and innocent eyes reminding them all of a pretty little doll they seem to treat you like.
And then you get to the prison, where things are tense, and discover that your⊠well, intimate service are needed more than ever. Acting as the only acceptable vice for the group to take their frustrations out on, in what you would describe as a relatively healthy way. At least considering the alternative. So while Rick is losing his mind and youâre already sharing a cell, he decides to try what a few of his friends have been doing right from the start. Using your pretty mouth as the escape they claim that works so well.
And heâs pleasantly surprised at the fact youâre more than willing. To let him urge you into the cell way before the sun has set. To let him drag you down to his bunk in the middle of the night where he doesnât waste any time peeling your sleep shorts off in a mess of tangled sheets and blankets. And the whole time heâs with you, your lips burn hot as they trail down his neck and nip at newly sunburnt skin. You kiss him without thinking and your tongue tastes like toothpaste and bad decisions as it traces over his own and your hands seem to know the exact spots that have him pushing his jeans down to his ankles in almost shameful, record breaking time. But he doesnât seem to mind because most importantly, having you right beneath him in the dim lit concrete cell, means that his mind, even just momentarily, is finally blank. For a few minutes, as long as you keep bringing your lips back to meet his, he has nothing to worry about. No crying newborn baby, no walkers, no fast spreading diseases or quarantines or mysterious unsolved murders. Nothing. Well, except the volume at which your pretty little moans are crawling their way up your chest and taunting your next door cell mates.
Itâs when he finally has your legs wrapped around his waist and youâre so fucking warm and holy shit youâre wet, and your hands wonât leave his shoulders and your nails are scratching and raking down his back in the most pleasurable burn he could ever imagine⊠that, that is when it comes to him. When he finally fucking getâs it.
He understands exactly why every time it came to going on a run or splitting the group up, Daryl was always first to claim you as his partner. Why Shane was so obsessed with fixing some damn watch he found you so you could meet him out behind the barn or on the edge of the woods wearing nothing but a sundress and a smile, not a minute later then midnight. He even understood why Merle was acting uncharacteristically nicer to you than anyone else as he pouted and paced around his cell, begging for all kinds of attention but only really wanting the one. The one that was proving to be completely and irrationally addictive the more Rick thought about it. The more he focused on your skin under his hands and how sweet your voice sounded when you could no longer form a coherent sentence.
While he catches his breath, arms still wrapped around your waist, he can feel your legs trembling on either side of him as your hands continue to cup his face ever so gently. He doesnât even open his eyes when you lean in to bite his lip and drag it out slowly before peppering sweet, meaningless kisses all down his jaw, neck and shoulders. Itâs then, when your touch is making the back of his neck tingle and his breath hitch in his throat that he canât help but feel like heâs been missing out. A whole year of this that the other guys have been experiencing? It doesnât really seem fair. Not now that heâs had a taste. Now that he knows exactly why every man youâve encountered since the world went to shit, has taken such an extreme and undeniable liking to you. Not now that he feels like he has to make up for lost time, pressing his forehead against yours and rocking himself back into you for the second time that night. You donât object. You just spread your legs even further and pull at the damp curls at the base of his neck, silently urging him to keep on moving.
You donât mind being used. Not really. Itâs what youâre there for. To distract him from the horrors of the world and remind him that thereâs still at least one thing worth living for. Even if itâs just a warm body in a shared bottom bunk. Youâre there to ensure that the scowl lines on his face soften and his eyes close in pure, unfocused elation while he forces your hips even deeper into the mattress with involuntary moan that escapes your lips.
how do you think rick would react if you just broke down sobbing during sex without explanation? like just out of nowhere and canât even explain whatâs wrong kind of sobbing
I canât say that this hasnât happened to me so⊠this is more so what I wish would happen in this scenarioâŠ
Heâd stop everything the moment he notices. Even though tears can be perceived as pleasure over pain, he knows you enough to tell that somethings not quite right. He knows your body language, your mannerisms. Rick knows you. And he knows that something is wrong. Even if you donât entirely know what it is.
He freezes the moment he feels your energy shift.
âWhatâs wrong?â His brows furrow together in concern.
Your turn to try and hid your face in the pillow. Attempting to wipe your tears onto the flannel pillowcase. Sniffling quietly in hopes heâd just brush it off, âNothinâ⊠Iâm - Iâm okay.â
âYou donât seem okay. Youâre crying.â He reaches up to wipe a tear from the apple of your cheek. It only makes the tears drop faster. âWhatâs wrong?â
âI- I donât know, I just-â your voice cracks and more tears fall. Frustrated at yourself for ruining the moment. Unable to understand why youâre even crying, and more importantly why you canât seem to stop.
âHey,â heâs careful when he pulls out. Gently lying back down beside you with his arm propping himself up to look at you, âletâs just take a break, okay?â
âIâm sorry I donât why Iâm-â your voice chokes and you bring the blanket up to wipe your dampening cheeks, âIâm sorry this is- ugh-â
âWhat on earth are you apologizing for? Youâve done nothing wrong, sweetheart. Nothing wrong at all.â His voice is low as his hand comes up to brush your hair out of your face, petting and smoothing it down repeatedly in sweet, soothing motions.
âIâm ruining the moment -I- I donât even know what Iâm sad about- itâs just, itâs embarrassing.â You wish you didnât sound so pathetic, and the thought that Rick might be thinking that makes you cry even harder, head tucking right into his chest where he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. Warm hands rubbing up and down your bare back.
âDarlinâ, you havenât ruined anything, I promise. SometimesâŠâ he takes a breath before he continues, choosing his words carefully, â-sometimes doinâ things like this, yâknow, it can, uh- it can bring out emotions you didnât even know you had. Ones that are deep inside or bottled up. And it just so happens that right now is when your body feels ready to let emâ out. It happens. Thereâs nothing wrong with you. I promise you, itâs okay.â Ricks tone is gentle and rather convincing, despite the dreadful pit thatâs formed in your stomach. And the arms that are holding you close feel safer than anywhere you can imagine. Walls or not.
You stay tucked into his chest until you have no tears left to cry. Trying to relax and calm your shaky breaths. Inhaling deep and slow, taking in the scent of the man holding you. His skin. His pheromones. That alone is calming in itself. Allowing your mind to cloud over and momentarily pause your incessant overthinking. His touch has your eye lids growing heavy and grateful for Ricks overall sweetness and his more than understanding reaction.
Should have been studying when I wrote this but yknow⊠instead I was daydreaming about about Rick (or any of the othersâŠDaryl, Merle, Shane⊠you decide) that doesnât seem to realise how damn strong he is. When youâre together, heâs way too drunk off your touch to even notice his animalistic behaviour. A hand tangled in your hair, pulling at the base of your skull, forcing you to deepen the kiss. To kiss him harder. Closer. And with warm mouths clashing together, his hands take on a mind of their own. Damn near ripping your clothes off. Buttons and zippers are at risk. And if youâre wearing lace panties, they donât stand a chance.
He holds you right into the mattress, his grip is so tight youâre sure itâll leave marks all over your rib cage. With his teeth scraping up your throat and a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet. Splitting you open and fucking you hard. He knows you like it. With the sounds pouring out that pretty little mouth of yours. But itâs dark and he canât see you wincing as he clad at your back. He doesnât realize how damn rough heâs being. How unintentionally aggressive his hold is on your wrists or in your hair. He only actually notices after the fact, when the lights are back on and he can clearly see the evidence of your time together, in splotches of blueish purple painting your skin like ink. His eyes go wide at the sight of his carelessness, immediately spitting out a concerned apology, voice almost scornful, âShoulda told me it was too rough, baby.â
âWasnât too rough,â your eyes look up at him all sweet and doe like. But he doesnât believe you.
âIt wa- look at your wrists, sweetheart. Youâre telling me you didnât feel that?â
You shrug and try your best to fight off a smile. Your lack of a verbal answer invites a playful shift in his demeanor.
âMmm you did feel it, didnât you? You just liked it too much to say anything, ainât that right?â
do you think you could do a rick grimes fluff where itâs an established relationship where heâs got a short fuse for everyone else but her and heâs super soft and gentle to her
or rick with a sleepy reader who he just lets fall asleep on his lap as he strokes her hair when heâs in the middle of discussing something important with someone else
ok I'm currently painting my toenails baby pink and got me thinking about rickyl with hyperfeminine!reader. (I know u said rick but this is what my brain said so...enjoy?)
Itâs way too late but you canât really help that youâre a night owl. And besides, the boys are still up, lights on in the living room, the two of them talking strategy for some hoard the group has been tracking for a few weeks. The conversation seems really important so you donât want to interrupt but you also canât see all that well since your glasses broke on that run last week and youâve yet to find any new ones⊠so you were really hoping someone would help you out.
With your bottle of nail polish in hand, you stand in the doorway, fighting an internal battle of if you should go in or not. So in doubt, you hover, putting a few dishes away in the kitchen. Grabbing some water. Checking the fridge. All while the glass bottle of pink polish becomes warm in your hand. Bare feet padding against the cool hardwood as you finally decide to just go back to bed. The safety of the community is undoubtably more important than your damn toes.
âYou alright, angel?â Ricks voice is soft as it travels to your spot on the stairs, swiveling around to see both men eyeing you down. Gaze travveling up your bare legs to your tiny little boy shorts and the oversized sweater with a stretched out collar and way too many holes in it.
âMhm.â You quip, flashing a candy sweet smile.
âYouâre pacinâ. Whatâs up?â Daryl isnât convinced as he looks you in the eyes, elbows leaned onto his knees. Still in his work clothes. Jacket, vest and jeans. Even his boots are still laced up.
âI just-" you look down at your bare toes. All prepped for paint, cut and filed and screaming at you to give them some colour. âCan one of you help me paint my toes?â
The way both of their faces soften at your answer gives you butterflies. Theyâre always way too worried. Too on edge. Especially when it comes to you. Wanting to protect you. Keep you safe and healthy and happy. So thatâs why when they notice you pacing in the kitchen at half past midnight, they jump to their own little conclusions about what might be wrong. About what could possibly be going on in that beautiful mind of yours.
âCâmhere.â Rick pats a hand on the couch cushion next to him which you happily take. Practically skipping over and plopping down, ass on the cushion and feet in his lap.
He takes the bottle and gives it a little shake before continuing his conversation with Daryl, who doesnât seem to be listening as attentively as he was before. With you laying on the couch, long legs sprawled out and a sleepy smile on your pretty face, youâve become quite the distraction.
Ricks hands are warm as he holds your feet, carefully painting each nail, all while he stays talking. You hear snippets like, â- well if we do that, then theyâll just be headed for Oceanside. We need to find a route that makes sense for everyone, even if it means-â but you arenât really listening. Youâre more focused on making heart eyes with Daryl and playing with a loose string on the hem of your sweater. Eyes growing heavy with each coat of paint. The intoxicating, chemical smell that you've weirdly enough grown to love, fills the room and your feet tickle when rick blows cool air on them. Closing the bottle and popping it back into your hand while he leans back and asks Daryl something off topic about a run with Aaron. thumb running over your foot, hand traveling up your calf and gently massaging the muscle there. You sink even further into the couch, all warm and tired and cozier then ever. The combination of Ricks touch sending tingles up your spine, and the drawl of both their voices, act in accordance to lull you right to sleep.
You know that even if you do fall asleep here on the couch, it's no big deal. They'd carry you to bed in a heartbeat. They have before. So you let your eyes flutter shut under the comforting fact that youâre sure to wake up in clean, warm covers with a man on either side of you and two big arms wrapped around your waist.
Sin sin sin sin just had a dirty ass thought (not inspired by real lifeâŠ) would any of the boys you write for have a Prince Albert??
If you want to could you write a little piece about reader finding out they have it, like sheâs shocked but turned tf on
And I mean any of them, Walking Dead, Punisher, Supernatural or more.
(Personally I think Shane might have gotten one while he was drunk, Daryl and Merle the same. Even Rick the dirty fucker đ« I can see Frank and Dean having one too đ«đ«
â ïž.
I can totally see that with Shane.
Imagine, itâs been a few days since he got a little too drunk and woke up with a painful surprise in his boxers. Shane shows up at the diner him and Rick frequent, and maybe youâre a waitress there and youâre already talking to Rick at the bar. Your favourite regulars. Theyâve been stopping by for lunch at least once a week for a year. You donât even need to take their order when they walk in, you just ring in their usual and pour them a beer.
Shane slumps down beside Rick on one of the stools at the bar and immediately grimaces. A pained groan escapes his throat that has both you and Rick sharing a look.
âThe hell happened to you?â Rick is smirking. Knowing how hungover Shane was the other day when he called in sick.
âNothinâ.â He brushed it off immediately. Trying to order his burger as a distraction instead. But you interrupt him.
âNuh uh, whatâs up? Someone use a little too much teeth the other night, or what?â
Rick chuckles, the sound garbled by the mouth full of food.
âNo- I-,â Shane sighs, adjusting himself once more on the uncomfortable stool. âI got a- I got a pmmhmâ
âWhat?â You ask, âI didnât catch that last part.â
Shane mumbles once more and has both you and Rick rolling your eyes.
âShane. Speak the fuck up.â You finally tell him, placing a beer down on the coaster in front of him.
âI got a piercing.â
âA piercing?â Ricks eyes are wide.
âShh,â Shane looks around, ensuring the conversation hasnât gained too much conversation. âYes. A piercing. Now letâs eat our food and get back to work, hm?â He whispers.
âYou pierced your dick?â Rick whispers and the two of you lean in closer. Making sure that the privacy of the conversation was held to the degree that Shane clearly needed.
âDid it hurt?â You ask, eyes following his button up all the way down. You canât help the image heâs created in your mind.
âThereâs a metal bar through my dick, sweetheart. Course it hurt.â
You bite your lip, leaned in against the counter. Unintentionally pressing your breasts together and on display in the deep v of your blouse.
Shane canât help but notice. Gaze catching yours once more before he asks, âwhat?â Why are you staring?
âJust thinkinâ about how it might feel for the next girl you bring home.â
Rick smirks, taking another bite of his burger and trying not to look at the fact that their favourite waitress is eye-fucking his best friend.
âOh yeah?â Shaneâs demeanour shifts back to his usual hyper sexual cockiness. Less shy now that what used to be an embarrassing drunk mistake, has actually piqued your interest. âMaybe youâll have to come over sometime. Then you can tell me just how good it feels.â
âShane,â Rick canât help but scold his friend for his inappropriate behaviour. But youâre blushing hard and Shane just holds back a laugh. A devious smirk still fixed in his face. The three of you share a little laugh before youâre forced to acknowledge the other costumers you should be tending to.
All you can think about for the rest of your shift is if Shane actually meant it. And what it would be like if you actually were to actually find out.
okay this could be a silly req butttttt hear me out đ so yk in season 2 when shane shaves his hair after he sees that a chunk of hair is missing and all that? so i was thinking what if reader also went with shane and otis so shane asks reader to buzz his hair FOR him and like she sits on the sink between his legs and stuff đ and it can just be a little suggestive maybe and at the end he gives her his 22 necklace đđđ«¶
not silly at all! Definitely more angsty than I intended (and probably than you wanted) but⊠here we are. Some trauma bonded(?) reader x Shane sweetnessâŠ
The countertop is damp with condensation where youâve situated yourself in front of the man. Eyes a bit lost in the ramblings of his inner voice. Heâs detached. Distracted. And he should be. Heâd just killed a man after all. And you were there. Youâre his only witness.
Though neither of you have chosen to acknowledge it. Aloud anyway.
âShane?â Your voice is just above a whisper. A gentle attempt to bring him back to earth.
He nods. But he canât look at you. Not in the eyes. Not after what he did.
âHey,â you reach out for his arm. Towel clad body following your suggestion to lean in closer. Up against the counter, legs on either side of his, brushing against the plush towel secured around his waist. Droplets continue running down his chest, one in particular trailing all the way down the v between his hip bones.
It takes everything in you to pull your eyes back up.
Not now. Not the time or place, you think to yourself.
âItâs okay. I- I get it. I probably-â you donât want to admit it, because youâre not entirely sure itâs true. You could just be saying this to comfort him. But either way, he needs to hear it.
âI would have done the same thing.â
Shane shakes his head slowly. Blinking his eyes closed for a few seconds longer than normal. His mind must be racing behind those pretty eyes, you think to yourself.
âY/n, I- I had to- I didnât- there wasnât another way-â
âHey,â you cut him off, hand reaching up to touch his face. Heâs not hearing you. Maybe the feel of you hand cupping his jaw will help ground him back to you. Back to the present.
Instinctively, he leans right into your touch. Not just your hand, but also your body. Pressed right against your fresh, oversized button up and boxer shorts. Beads of water unintentionally dampening the fabric.
His touch send tingles through you where his hands had moved to hold your thighs.
âYou donât have to explain yourself to meâŠYou did what you had to do.â Your voice is soft, but your words are firm.
He nods, nose only an inch away from your own. His unfocused eyes canât help but catch yours for a moment as he chews nervously at the inside of his cheek.
He stays like that a moment, and for a split second, you think he might kiss you. He wants to. Though you arenât convinced that itâs out of desire for you, but rather the desire for a distraction. Something to numb the guilt, even if itâs just for a moment.
You must have flinched when his lips nearly brushed yours.
Shit. Your hesitation scared him off.
You wish you could reach out and pull him back against your lips. Let him get lost in the taste of you. But you arenât quick enough.
With a drawn out breath, he leans back. Reaching for an item on the other side of the counter top.
He takes a deep sigh and runs his other hand through his hair. Regret written all over his face. âUm⊠do you think- could youâŠ?â He asks, grabbing your hand and placing the electric razor in your palm.
dom rick bending reader over his knee for being a brat? maybe even rickyl
cw- impact play, mean!dom!rick(?)
âThis isnât even fair,â you whine, face pressed into the rough couch pillow next to you. Your torso is splayed over Ricks lap, knees brushing the hardwood floor.
âNot fair, huh? Daryl said you were beinâ a brat, sweetheart. And you know what happens when you act up like that.â
âI wasnât,â your words are drawn out. Ricks hand smoothing over the soft flesh of your ass. The action already has you bracing yourself for impact. Heâs just warming you up.
âAre you sayinâ that heâs lyinâ? Is that what youâre tryna say, baby?â
You look over your shoulder and meet eyes with the bowman, leaned back into the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Palm freezing over his groin when he sees you looking. Clearly already stirring in his jeans.
âNo, no, I just-â
A quick sharp sting to your ass cuts you off.
âOuch,â you flop back to your original position. Face pressed to the pillow where you can easily muffle your pathetic little cries.
âJust what, baby?â Darylâs voice drawls from across the room.
âDidnât meant to- ahâ another smack jolts you do reward. But you know better than to complain. âI didnât mean to lip off, okay. Iâm sorry, Dare. I wonât do it again, I promise.â
You canât see them, but youâre sure theyâre sharing a look. Debating between themselves wether or not youâre to be forgiven so easily. So soon.
Another hot blow to your ass elicits a moan this time. The tender flesh starting to feel all tingly and numb. It hurts, sure. But for whatever reason, itâs also turning you on. From Darylâs angle, he can see an adorable little wet spot of arousal on your panties.
âPretty sure you said that last time, no?â Rick chuckles, rubbing sweet, gentle circles over your skin. âJust a few more, baby. Gotta stick to the rules. You misbehave, you face the consequences. Just how it goes, doll.â
Tears fight their way to your lash line as your ass takes another few rounds of sharp, jolting pain. Smoothing his palm over the red handprints in between each hit.
You can actually feel your arousal now. A needy, messy, wetness spreading under the cotton fabric of your panties. Ricks fingers dipping down to drag along damp cloth.
You whimper as his large fingers brushing over your clit.
âAlright, angel. Worst partâs over. Now you just have to make it right. Gotta make it up to Daryl, sweetheart. You ready to do that for us? To be a sweet little thing and ask for forgiveness?â
You nod into the pillow, your agreement taking the form of a drawn out moan. Your completely submissive reaction and the slight tremor in your thighs has both men holding back their smiles.
Oh youâll make it up to them, alright. Itâs not like you have much of a choice.
girly i need some daddy dom rick x hyper fem! reader <3
Your cheek is squished up against the wall. You can smell the fresh paint under your touch and taste Malibu rum on your teeth. Not even a minute ago you were giggling like a schoolgirl and stumbling up the carpeted stairs to your bedroom. But the second that lock on the bedroom door clicked, you found yourself here. Face and chest flush with the wall. Ricks hands gripping your hips so tight it hurts. Holding you there. Holding you still. In this bedroom, as soon as that door shuts, heâs the one in control.
Not that you mind.
His hand comes up to move your hair from your neck. Allowing him better access to plant a few kisses. He breathes you in. All sweet and edible. Like whipped cream or marshmallows.
âMmm,â he hums into your skin, hands roaming over your hips, up and down and circling under your skirt, around to your ass. He pulls at the thin, lace, patterned tights youâre wearing. your skin is warm under his touch. Soft and warm and everything he needs.
With two hands on your ass, pulling at the fabric, you hear it before you feel it. Him ripping the back of your tights. A sharp sound of the fabric tearing echos in the silent bedroom. Followed by a wet gasp as his rough hands make there way to your panties. He doesn't care about your comfort. Only access. And the tights youâve been wearing, well, they're in his way. And he canât have that, now can he?
With your skirt pushed up over your hips, and your panties stretched and pulled to the side, he has his way with you. Messy, open mouthed kisses over your shoulder. Knocking teeth and the smell of coors light on his breath. Both of you intoxicated by the nights festivities, but mostly by eachother. The taste of your tongue. That tight stretch of your walls to fit all of him inside you. The wet gasps escaping your swollen lips when the tip of him brushes your sweet spot. Your fingers digging into his wrist as he pins your hips to the wall, thrusting in and out of you like some kind of animal.
Carnal fucking desire radiates from his touch. His hold. Aggressive, sure. But itâs an involuntary demonstration of passion more than anything. He doesnât mean to leave bruises on your hip bones. He just canât help himself with you. Driving him crazy all night in that short skirt and those delicate little tights. Doe eyes taunting him from across the room as you sipped a fruity cocktail through your straw. Legs crosses in a secretive attempt to find some relief. Some fiction between your thighs.
And hell, thereâs friction now. Trapped between your husband and the wall. Beads of sweat forming on both of your hairlines. Itâs as if heâs trying to fuck you through the wall. Hard and fast and hot and- fuck.
He wonât stop until your legs give out. And even then, he only gives you a moment to recover. Moving you to the plush comfort of the bed. Into a position that you doesnât even require a lick of effort on your part.
âYou just stay still and look pretty, baby.â Heâd tell you as a drawn out whine leaves your throat. Youâre way of telling him that youâre almost too fucked out to continue. âJust lay down and take it, yeah? Lemme see you cum all over daddyâs cock. One more, sweetie. I know you can.â
okay, wait; hi!! i don't know if you've written something like this already, but i've read some of your works and you're the perfect person for me to send this idea to!
what about stepdad!rick or honestly, any other rick, reading our lovely, cute, feminine readerâs diary? đđ the way i see it, she left that diary of hers somewhere and rick opened it to see what the notebook was and who it belonged to and accidentally happened to come across a wall of text about him
do whatever you want with it, you can even ignore it lmao but i absolutely love your work!!<33
I love this so much! Such a creative idea. Thank you for sending it to me<3
a/n- no smut but 18+ content such as wet dreams and masturbating. Could see a part 2 to this in the future <3
Rick never meant to invade your privacy. That wasnât his goal. Never would he intentionally cross a boundary heâd already been internally fighting with on his own.
But when he saw your notebook was left on the porch swing, and heâd sat down for his morning coffee, he couldnât help but pick it up. It didnât have your initial or your name on it. Didnât even have a design. Just a plain white notebook. A light pink ribbon sticks out the end, marking some random page. The edges are a bit worn and thereâs a pen stuck in the middle like a bookmark.
With his hot mug warming his calloused hand, he leans back and crosses his ankle over his knee, other hand going to pick the book up. Turning it over in his hand before opening it up to where the pen is lodged in the pages.
Rick was in my dream again last night-
He tears his gaze away from the ink stained pages. He should stop, he thinks. Immediately recognizing your handwriting. Knowing that itâs not for him. That it would be wrong to pry. Borderline disrespectful. But his curiosity gets the best of him and he returns his attention to follow your broken up cursive as best as he can.
-It started out sweet. In my room, with both of us sitting on the bed. Him leaning in for a kiss and brushing my hair out of my face. God I wish that were true. Just thinking about it gives me butterflies. His hands on my face, pulling me in⊠how soft his lips are, moving perfectly against mine.
I woke up in the middle of the night though. Dream completely ruined. I tried to fall asleep quick enough for it to continue. Sometimes that works. But last night it didnât. Though I canât say Iâm too disappointed, because I ended up having another dream when I did fall asleep again. And it was⊠intense. He was there. In between my legs. Those irresistible blue eyes looking up at me while he curled his fingers inside me. Messy wet kissing all over my clit. Other hand gripping my thigh.
I woke up with my fingers in my panties. Slick with need.
Iâve cum in my sleep before. Never knew that was possible until it happened. Woke up the same way as this morning- fingers in my panties, wet and shaky. Sweating and buzzing with that post orgasm high. I was asleep. A wet dream. Thatâs what they called it in health class. But I thought it was something that happened to boys only. Apparently not.
Rick put the book down. Heat raising to his cheeks at the filth he just read.
You think about him. No, sorry, you dream about him. His chest feels tight at the realization. And guilt starts to set in at the fact that heâs reading your journal. Your intimate, personal thoughts.
But the pages burn a hole in his hand and he just canât help it. He picks the book back up and continues to read. Heart rate picking up with every line.
Itâs crazy how much of my thoughts are consumed by him. My own stepdad. Is that wrong? I mean on paper, I know the answer. Itâs gross. Completely wrong and disgusting. But I donât know. It just feels so natural. His smell. His laugh. His touch. Not an hour goes by where I donât zone out thinking about him. Daydreaming about those ocean eyes. Even in my sleep. He consumes me. And he doesnât even know it. He doesnât even see what he does to me. The way he comes up behind me while Iâm doing dishes, and presses his bulge into my ass. He doesnât notice me pushing back. Or if he does, heâs never said anything. Heâs never made it clear.
He hadnât noticed. Not until he starts to think about it. Now, upon retrospect, he can definitely see it. And this time, without his rose coloured glasses, convincing him of your little crush. Heâd always told himself that it was just something he wanted. And thatâs why he saw it. Tricked himself into believing it. The way you act around him. Hint your feelings for him. And clearly youâre unaware of the feelings heâs been harbouring. Bottling up and pushing down. He is married after all. He never cheated on Lori. Never even considered it, despite Shaneâs constant nagging. But with your mom, itâs different. It doesnât feel like a real marriage. Maybe because it isnât. Not by law. There isnât any law anymore. But heâs still with her. Has been since his group settled in Alexandria. She was nice enough, pretty, sweet, good with kids. It just worked.
And then he met you.
And even though he did like your mom, it was you that pushed him to move in. To take it seriously with her. He needed to see you. Get to know you. Live with you. Watch movies on the couch late at night when youâre all tired and lean your head in his lap. He needed it. Needed you. Even when he thought he couldnât have you.
And the truth is, he canât. Itâs wrong and you both know it.
Rick flips to the front of the book, ready to start from the very beginning when heâs rudely interrupted by the screen door slamming shut from the front of the house. He straightens up and immediately putting the book back down beside him where youâd left it.
He can hear your bare feet on the hardwood floor, running through the house in a rush.
Your hair is wild and your face is flushed when you reach the back porch.
âOh,â you stop when you see Rick. Leaned back on the swing, nursing his coffee. One cream. Two sweeteners. You know because youâre the one who makes it for him. Every single morning.
âHi.â Your voice is weak as you eye the book sitting right next to his right thigh.
âHey, sweetheart.â
âI, uh, I just forgot my notebook. Need it for a thing.â You nod towards the journal.
Rick decides to act as though he hadnât even seen it there. Knowing fully well heâd be sneaking in to your room later to read some more. To go through the first half of the book, where heâd hopefully learn all the other sinful thoughts and dreams you have about your very handsome stepdad.
He hands it to you, fingers brushing your own as you take it from him.
âThanks,â you smile coyly, bringing the notebook and your hands behind your back to fidget.
âYouâll be home for supper?â Rick asks.
You nod and he tries to contain his smile.
He decides that heâll have to sit right next to you. Brush against your thigh during the meal. Play footsies under the table. Maybe heâll excuse your mother from cleaning up after. âOh go! Relax, weâve got this,â heâd say before she laughs and leaves to sit in the other room. And heâd dry dishes next to you as you scrub the plates and bowls from dinner. Leaning in close while he puts the glassware away in the cabinet above your head. His arms would graze your own. Chest pressed to you back, like youâd wrote about in your journal. Heâd make it clear. Heâd make it clear that he knew how you felt. And more importantly, that he felt the same way too.
i know there have been some requests to add to my original nsfw links so i thought, now that iâve compiled quite a few more, i would just make another post.
DISCLAIMER: these links are straight up porn. please do not interact if you are under 18. the links may get deleted on twitter, so just be aware of that, and are only viewable if you are over 18 anyway. MDNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!!
a few are inspired by fics iâve written, which will be linked as well. the rest are just general situations that i think fit with the video linked. i had a lot of fun finding these and compiling them for you allâŠđ€
anyway, letâs get started<3
RICK X READER
stepdad!rick teasing his girl while her mother is in another room
cumming hard all over his fingers (the way he presses down on her stomach⊠ughhh yesss)
sunday service quicky
âsize kinkâ inspired- tummy bulge
DARYL X READER
sweet n soft sex with daryl
sucking off an inexperienced, loser!virgin?, very vocal (and very well endowed) daryl
overstimulating subby daryl
RICKYL X READER
âcamera shyâ inspired- daryl filming you riding his best friends (huge) cock
dp with both your boys (itâs the praise for meâŠ)
SHANE X READER
shane eating you out in his tent before bed
fwb!shane giving you a hand
â2:22â inspired- with stepdad!shane
ROSITA X READER
rosita finds a toy and decides to put it to good use⊠by torturing her girl
PICK YOUR POISON INSPIRED
your dads best friends have their way with you
FRANK CASTLE X READER
fucked hard by frank at home (sheâs a lil obnoxious but heâs hot ⊠and his beard⊠mmm)
BONUS
what i was doing the whole time i made this post đ
well I hope you all enjoyed⊠;)) and if thereâs ever any links you find that remind you of the boys or a situation/fic/daydream⊠donât hesitate to send them over. Iâm a freaky lil slutâŠ
frank castle with a pregnant girlfriend whose so needy and horny for him all the time
Your hand flutters over the soft cotton sheets for the so one time that night. Fingers gently tickling at the waistband of his boxers. He stirs but continues to watch the tv. Some medical drama he thought might help you fall asleep.
You lean in and brush your nose against his neck. Lips grazing his pulse before you press a few soft kisses downwards. Trying to get your hint across. And with your hand in his pants and your face buried in his neck, you figure it shouldnât take too long.
âAgain⊠really?â He asks as his hand comes up to rest on the one your currently using to palm at his groin.
âI know,â you try not to whine, but a main like sigh slips out anyway. âI just- Frankie, pleaseâŠâ
He lets out a little huff of air and you can hear the smirk forming on his face. Clearly amused by what appears to be your newfound never ending libido. All you really want is to fall asleep, but it seems your body has other plans. The growing ache between your thighs has already forgotten just how full you felt, not even an hour ago.
âI know, baby. Câmhere.â The hand thatâs already around your shoulder, pulls you in. One hand going to pull your thigh around to straddle him. And thatâs where you sit. Hips already rocking against him as your legs mold to the outside of his hips. His hands find their spot on your waist. Both thumbs brushing along the line of exposed skin on your stomach.
You arenât showing too much yet. You are only a few months along. But youâve heard that the start of the second trimester is when this kind of thing happens. All of a sudden, youâre a little more energetic and your sex drive just skyrockets. You couldnât have seen it coming.
You rock back and forth, creating a friction you oh so desperately need. But itâs not enough.
A near pathetic moan happens to crawl itâs way up your throat as you grind back and forth. Chasing another orgasm. The only thing that can even come close to a solution for your endless desire. But even Frank knows that this isnât enough.
Calloused fingers toy with the lace band of your underwear, tugging them gently to the side while you lift to allow him access.
âSo needy arenât you, baby?â He teases, that devious smirk still plastered on his face.
You nod enthusiastically. âNeed you so bad, FrankieâŠâ
âI know, baby, I know,â heâs got his boxers shoved down and cock in his fist, lining himself up with your already soaking wet cunt. Hands moving straight back to your ass to pull you down onto him with a groan.
You sink down on him, inch by inch and you canât even help the way your eyes roll back and your breath catches in your throat.
âLetâs take care of you then, hm, pretty girl? Iâll make it all better, I promise.â
my first ask!! iâm quite literally begging for more somno rick or daryl if youâre comfortable with it! iâm in love with your writing!
cw- 18+ content, somnophilia (pre-established relationship and consent)
All he can hear as he walks up the stairs is the strong wind against the side of the house. A snow storm is coming in, thankfully in time for Rick and the others to get back from there run. He knows youâre probably already sleeping. With the lights off and the doors locked.
He tries his best not to wake you as he takes his watch off and places it on the dresser. Unbuckling his belt. Shedding off his jacket. Youâre there, under the covers. The soft sound of you breathing, your chest lifting up and down. Your eyes are closed, bare arms hugging a spare pillow to your chest.
You look so pretty while you sleep. Heâs always thought that. Even way back at the prison, when heâd make his nightly rounds and check in on everyone, being sure to check your cell block last. Knowing it was far too late to catch you awake. You always looked so peaceful. Relaxed. Almost ethereal in the dim lit room.
You still do.
But no matter how sweet and innocent it may seem, admiring how angelic you are fast asleep in his sheets, his mind always takes a dark turn. Denim becoming tight where his cock twitches at the sight of you. At the thought of crawling in next to you and running his hand from your hips to your waist.
It tickles. His careful touch on your skin. Enough for you to let out a slightly louder puff of air. But you donât wake up.
You never fully do.
He presses up behind you, arm pulling you close. Shoulder blades flush with his chest, ass pressed into his groin. The two of you fit like a puzzle piece.
His hands wander up your shirt, taking in your warm skin, every curve, scar and dimple. He plays with the waistband of your sleep shorts, twirling the drawstring around his index finger.
He loves the way your body reacts to him. The way you lean into his touch. Hips following his hand, subconsciously. You donât even know youâre doing it, but your edging him on. Youâre practically asking for it. For him. For his fingers. His cock.
When he slips his hand down your shorts and feels how wet you are, his eyes almost roll to the back of his head. Fuck, he thinks. Youâre not just asking for it. Youâre begging him and you arenât even awake.
Youâre compliant when he shimmies your shorts down your thighs, kissing all your sweet spots on your neck and shoulder. Unconsciously lifting your hips to help the man out.
He kisses the back of your neck while he lines himself up with your cunt, one hand on your thigh, pulling it upwards. Attempting to open you up from your sideways position. It works, and youâre already wet enough for him to slowly inch himself inside you.
A soft gasp leaves your lips and he fears he may have woken you. But your eyes remain closed and your face is still relaxed. Hand drifting towards the one holding your thigh.
So he fucks you. Slow and sloppily. Hands roaming up to squeeze your breasts, to feel your ribs, and dipping down to rub your clit. You stir. As you usually do. More soft gaspy moans make their way up your throat. When he leans back for a moment, and looks down between you, the dimples on the bottom of your back, your plump ass moving with every thrust. And a thick, white, creamy substance coats his cock as he fucks in and out. Youâre soaking. Creaming all over his cock. You have one hand clutching the sheets, and the other reaching behind you, grabbing for his skin. Anything you can reach. Arms, shoulders, legs even. Youâre not 100% awake yet, but youâre faxing in and out. Too close to cumming to process any confusion around the situation. And Ricks familiar smell and touch acts as a blanket of comfort. Even if you did wake up, you wouldnât stop him.
You love him. You love this. You love it when he does this. Thatâs partially why he even started it. This almost nightly routine of making you cum in your sleep. Other than the fact that heâs probably just as in to it, if not more.
Your head twists around, lazily pressing your lips to his. A hot, open mouthed kiss in the midst of your sleepy, sensual act. Ricks cock hits that spot inside that lights a fire. Hot pleasure twisting in your core. Your inner legs start to shake and you give up on trying to kiss him back, face smushing back into the pillow as you let him fuck the orgasm out of you. Pushing you down on your stomach and mounting you for better range of motion.
You cum with your face in the pillow, biting back a scream. His hands push in between your shoulder blades, pinning you down as he empties himself inside you. You take it like a good little slut. Unable to move. Unable to escape.
Please for the love of god write something about Rick chasing the reader down in the woods Iâd DIE
(Rick and Daryl x fem!reader)
cw- reader already has a baby with the boys, reader being chased in a maze, threesome, smut, slight breeding kink⊠think thatâs allâŠ
notes- happy Halloween! This is a fun little one shot placed in Alexandria. It is a flow up of âtaking turnsâ however you donât need to read it to read this. Itâs just the same relationship, a couple years later. I had a few requests for a follow up and for some chasing/hunting vibes so⊠here you go! I wonât lie this is a bit rushed and not proofread at all so I apologize for any errors or if itâs not my best⊠but i hope you enjoy and tell me what you think<3
âAlright,â Rick breathes out with a sigh, dropping the large box onto the ground. Daryl right behind him with another.
The kids run over. Judith, at just 4 years old, Gracie, Sam, Carl and a few of the older kids and teens in Alexandria. Your own baby coos in your arms. Incoherent, yet adorable babbles leave her mouth, with chubby little hands grabbing into the air in the direction of her daddy.
While Rick cuts open the cardboard box of costumes, Daryl sneaks away from the cluster of children, all way too excited to get their hands on a cape and a mask. Or a dress and a tiara.
âCâmhere, sweetheart,â he grabs your daughter from your arms. Immediately sheâs smiling all big and giggling into his jacket.
âWere you good for your mama while I was gone?â He whispers against her dark curls before pressing a kiss to her head.
âShe just missed you, I think.â You respond. In reality, she was fussy. You figured that would happen after two nights without her dad. Daryl definitely being her favourite parent.
The kids are noisy as they ooh and awe and fight over the Halloween costumes.
Rick finally makes his own escape with a costume cowboy hat on his head.
âHey, officer,â you tip your head up for a kiss as he wraps his arms around your waist. Eager to hug you. To touch you.
He stays holding you for a moment. Just soaking in your warmth.
âMiss me?â
âEvery minute.â He confirms against your mouth for one last kiss, before moving to kiss your daughters cheek.
âHowâs our little princess?â He asks to no one in particular.
âShe missed her daddies. Kept me up all night.â
âWhat?â Rick faked a shocked tone, âour little princess would never. That doesnât sound like her at all, does it?â He runs his hand over her hair and plants a kiss on her head.
You roll your eyes but your smile peaks out anyway. The sight of your men being such good fathers will never fail to make you smile.
âDaddy! Daddy look!â Judithâs high pitched voice brings attention as she tugs at Ricks pant leg.
When the three of you turn to look, sheâs dressed in a unicorn onesie. Adorable. A bit warm for the weather. But adorable.
Rick picks her up with a groan, âoh my goodness, almost too big for this, arenât you?â
She nuzzles into Ricks chest, little arms wrapping around his neck.
âI think someone needs a little snooze before all the festivities tonight, hm? You feelinâ a little tired, Judy?â He asks her. You donât hear anything but you see the white fluffy ears on her hood move up and down as she nods into her fathers shirt.
âThis little rascal should have one too.â You nod towards your own sleepy girl, âI can go put emâ both down for a nap.â
âNah, Iâll do it.â Daryl insists.
âAre you sure-â
âIâve got it.â He scoops Judith up in one arm, balanced on his hip and very happy to be carried to bed. A snuggly little 6 month old on his other. He starts off upstairs and leaves you and Rick in the living room. Surrounded by a foam sword fight battle that appears to have ensued between a couple ninja turtles and a fairy Princess.
The whole reason for Rick and Darylâs last run was to find these costumes. Among other Halloween decorations and as much candy as they could salvage. Anything to make it a special day. To show the kids what things used to be like. To remind the ones who did know, exactly how fun the holidays were. You werenât even sure it was Halloween. Sure, the leaves were beautiful tones of orange and yellow, falling to the ground and crunching beneath your shoes. But you arent sure what day it was. Honestly, you arent entirely sure what month it is. However, according to Eugeneâs calendar, It is in fact the 31st of October.
Ricks head tips low to your ear and he whispers an invitation to go shower. He needs to clean up. And he really wouldnât mind some company.
âCarol,â he turns for a moment and nods to her in the kitchen, prepping some food for tonight. âCan youâŠâ he motions to the living room full of children running around. Carol nods and you can hear her telling them to beat it and go play outside while youâre led up the stairs by the hand.
â
The party is supposed to start at 7. Carol offered to take your daughter for the night, to give you some time off. To have fun. To go to sleep early if thatâs what you wanted.
Itâs a bit cold out. So youâre in a cream knit sweater and some jeans. A pair of cheap bunny ears are on your head. Your daughter is dressed in the smallest costume you could find in the box, a plush orange carrot. And sheâs the cutest carrot youâve ever seen, thatâs for sure.
Thereâs wine. Lots. And food. And candy. Eugene is setting up a spooky film to be played on a projecter in the middle of Alexandria. A few bonfires surround the yard, scattered with jack-o-lanterns. Carved and lit up with tea lights and glowing eyes.
Itâs beautiful. Slightly spooky. And so familiar. Itâs everything you remember about Halloween.
An arm snaking around your waist startles you as you sip on your wine. But the smell of smoke and leather soothes you quickly.
âHey,â Daryl says. You turn to face him, only slightly confused as his voice is being muffled by something.
Heâs wearing a mask. A scream mask more specifically. The rest of his attire is typical. His leather jacket on, though no vest tonight. Dark jeans and boots.
âMmm, spooky.â You lean in and press a quick peck to the white plastic. You canât see him smile under the mask, but you know itâs there.
Another arm wraps around your waist from the other side. Itâs Rick. You know by the thick brown jacket brushing against you. Heâs also in costume, wearing a Friday the 13th hockey mask.
âWell hello, Jason,â you tease.
âYou scared yet?â
âShould I be?â You ask. Though youâre pretty sure you know the answer.
Rick opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by some commotion from the yard.
Eugene has a microphone, standing on a picnic table and telling the crowd to sit down and get comfy. That the movie will be starting in two minutes.
âWell, are you two ready for some Hocus Pocus?â You ask.
They look at eachother through the masks. What the hell are they plotting?
âWhatâŠ?â You finally ask.
âWe were thinking⊠maybe we could do something a little different.â
âWhat, you wanna watch something else?â
âNot quite,â Daryl chimes in, âwe were thinking that while everyone is watching the movie, the three of us can make our way through the corn maze.â
The maze is outside the walls of Alexandria. A bit dangerous, but it was part of the fun. The kids had all had their turns in it earlier in the day, heavily supervised by adults and parents. Ones with weapons and training for situations outside the safety of the walls.
âYou want us to all get lost in the maze?â You bite your bottom lip and smile.
âWe want you to get lost in the maze,â Daryl corrects you.
Rick dips down to your ear and lowers his voice, âand weâll try and find you. Play a little game.â
âGrown up hide and seek?â You ask. Heat raising to your cheeks at the thought of what they want to do once they find you.
âExactly.â
You swallow, looking back to the yard where the kids are all lid out in sleeping bags and on blankets. Focused on the film playing in the dark.
âOk.â
âWeâll give you a two minute head start,â Rick hands you a switch blade. Just incase. Nodding towards the back fence, where you know you can sneak out without being caught. Your heart is already starting to race a little at the thought of having to hide. At the thought of them searching for you. Hunting you down. And Darylâs little comment when you start off towards the fence doesnât help either,
âGood luck, little bunny.â
â
Itâs pitch black when you reach the maze. Actually, as soon as you made it over the wall and into the woods, it was dark. But inside the maze, the stalks of corn all towering over 10 feet tall and fluttering creepily in the breeze. The only light you can see is a faint glow from the moon. And even then, itâs only when youâre out of the shadows.
You walk into the maze. Immediately met by multiple twists and turns. You werenât one of the supervisors earlier, so you really didnât know the route. The straw and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk further into the maze. A quick, brisk walk trying to find the best place to hide. Or, if youâre lucky, to find the end of the maze before the boys even get in.
But you know thatâs unrealistic. And youâre sure your two minutes must be up because you can hear them. Footsteps and muffled voices behind a couple walls of corn. Shit.
You start to walk faster. A borderline jog at this point, trying to keep your footing light.
It didnât occur to you until now how easy itâll be for them to find you. Darylâs a hunter for Christ sake. Heâll be able to track your path through the maze in no time.
Theyâre closer.
Fuck.
You have to run. You can hear their voices. Theyâre so close.
âYouâre gonna have to be quicker than that, baby.â Ricks voice rings out towards you. Heâs on the other side of the wall. Through the thick corn stalks and the pitch black of the night, you canât make out exactly where he is. But heâs close.
You run.
And they follow right after.
The sound of their footsteps is clearer and clearer the further away from Alexandria you get. And the further into the maze.
You shriek at the feeling of a hand on your sweater, jolting forward and starting to sprint. It was Daryl. Heâs behind you.
And though him and Rick are both stronger, you have one advantage. Youâre faster.
Over your shoulder as you sprint you can see them. White masks still on, glowing in the moonlight.
âFuckâ, you swear to yourself when you
come to a dead end. You only have two options. Turn around, or be caught. They couldnât be more than a few seconds away.
Without really thinking, you shove your way through the stalks. Catching on every leaf and stick, but ultimately coming out the other side without a scrape.
You canât celebrate your quick thinking victory too long because you still hear them.
âSplit up,â Daryl whisper shouts at his friend, and with their footsteps scattered, itâs even harder to tell where they are.
Fuck.
You keep going. You take a left. And then a right and another dead end. Shit. Is this ⊠is this the same one?
You turn back and take the left instead. But itâs another dead end.
What the fuck?
Youâre lost. You donât even know what direction you came from anymore. Circling the same two dead ends before you finally take a right that leads you a couple meters further than the other options.
You hear a stick crack on the ground behind you, but thereâs no time to see who it is.
You turn the corner fast with your heartbeat so loud it drums in your ears.
âShit,â you stumble right into a brown jacket in front of you. Arms wrapping around you and picking you up. You scream.
Someone warm presses against your back as your feet touch the floor again.
Youâre trapped.
âGotcha,â Darylâs gravelly voice is already in your ear.
Youâre breathing heavy in their hold, sandwiched between the two men.
Their hands grab at your sweater and start to roam.
âTake this off,â a voice demands as you struggle against their arms,
You try for a moment to reach the mask covering Ricks face. But Daryl, or maybe Rickâs, hands are clamped on your wrist.
Itâs claustrophobic, but you donât entirely mind. As long as itâs their arms your trapped between, youâll never complain.
They donât kiss you. They canât. But everything about their demeanour is screaming that they want you. That they want to be in you.
Hands gripping and tugging at your jeans. Your hands snake around Ricks neck in front of you as they peel your jeans down your legs. The air is cold and gives you goosebumps, but your legs wrap around his waist immediately. Darylâs bulge pokes at your ass while his hand trails under your sweater to pinch your nipple. Ricks pants are tight as his own bulge rubs against the thin fabric of your panties. Your jeans long lost to the straw and dirt ground underneath you.
It doesnât take long for them to get you how they need you.
Granted, the three of you did have a lot of practice. Your panties swiftly ripped off by the man behind you who wanted more access. The cold metal of both their belts hit your skin.
And with little preparation other than some spit and arousal, youâre stretched to the max with both men. Both holes filled with very little regard for your comfort.
They know youâd say something if it really hurt.
But it hurts so good. The pain of being so fucking full. Stretched to a limit youâd experienced over a dozen times, but no matter what, it just never gets any easier.
âWanna kiss you,â your voice comes out in wet gasps, lips brushing the plastic of Ricks mask. One hand trying for Darylâs hood, reaching awkwardly around. You need their touch. Their lips on your lips. Tongues tracing each-other and fighting for dominance.
Theyâd win.
They always do.
The three of you find a rhythm quickly. Hands on your thighs, holding you up and using you as leverage to pound as fast and hard as they could. Your moans and their grunts fill the air as pleasure starts to swirl low on your abdomen.
âPlease,â your head tips back in ecstasy. âPlease, please,â
âPlease what, sweet girl?â The cold plastic of Darylâs mask brushes your ear.
âPlease- want- uh,â youâre interrupted by sharper thrusts from the two men, catching you off guard. Their both picking up their pace.
âSpeak up, darling.â Rick demands, nails digging into your hips.
âFill me up,â you gasp again. âWant it so bad, Rick, please.â
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on the swirl in your stomach. The one that keeps getting warmer and warmer and warmer until-
âIâm cumming,â you tell them as a courtesy, but you donât have to. The way youâre involuntarily clenching down around them gives you away far better than a couple raspy words.
âYou really wanna get filled up, baby? Bred like the little bunny you are, huh?â Ricks words send you over the edge and a hand toys at the fluffy rabbit ears that are shockingly still secured on top of your head.
Youâre out of words. Too stimulated to talk. So you just nod in agreement. Yes. Please. Please.
Their hips stutter to a stop and warm liquid seeps out to drool down your inner thigh.
Breathing heavy, youâre lowered back to the ground, colder now. without the friction of their bodies.
âHere,â Daryl grabs your jeans from the ground and dresses you again. His soft side peaking out now that heâs had his release. Your shoes are back on and your legs a little shaky, and finally, the boys finally take their masks off. The whites of their eyes are bright in the moonlight.
âYou alright?â They both ask you as the three of you somehow manage to find your way back out of the maze.
âA little coldâŠâ you smirk.
âBut we didnât-we didnât scare you too bad right?â
âNo.â You smile, âDonât know if I could ever get that scared by you too love bugs.â You tease, arms wrapping around their waists and pulling them in close to you.
âPfft,â Daryl brushes off the comment and Rick only smiles.
âWell if we didnât scare you, then maybe next time we oughta try a little harder.â
âNext time?â You ask. The thought already going straight between your thighs.
The boys share a look over your shoulders that can only mean one thing.
âHey, baby,â Rick catches your attention, hand guiding you towards the community gates by the small of your back as he searches in his jacket pocket for his keys. âYou ever been to a house of mirrors?â
this has been in my drafts for several months and your mood-board reminded me of its existence so⊠I finished it upâŠhehe <3
(18+ content below the cut, car sex, creampie, not proofread)
This isnât the first night youâve done this, and it definitely wouldnât be the last. Sneaking out of your parents place, through your bedroom window. Quiet as a mouse, in the middle of the night. All of Alexandria in bed, except for you and the man youâd lose any amount of sleep for.
His truck is parked at the gate, itâs not running yet, but you can see the outline of his profile through the window as you approach. Quickly sliding into the passengers seat and buckling up.
He glances over at you, licking his lips with that damn look he always gives you. The one where heâs trying not to picture you naked and sweating underneath him, begging for more. Though heâd never tell you that.
He turns the keys and shifts the truck into gear. Slowly creeping out of the gate, hopping out and closing it behind him.
He loves to take you on these midnight drives. Itâs the only real chance to get you all to himself for an hour or two. You get comfy, kicking your sandals off, leaning up against the passenger door and draping your freshly painted toes on his lap. Being sure to graze the bulge in his jeans as much as you can without it seeming too purposeful.
You can see his smirk as you relax. Breathing in the cool evening air through the open sunroof, and listening to a quiet cassette tape that Rick handpicked. No words exchanged as he brings you to your destination.
Itâs thrilling. A little. The thought of being outside, alone, at night. A little scary even. But nothing makes you feel safer then being with Rick, not even the walls back at home.
And besides, he always gets you back home before sunrise. Your mind flashing to the image of Ricks hands roaming your body as you poke at your scrambled eggs over breakfast. Your dad right across you, sipping his coffee and asking how you slept. âPretty good,â youâd tell him while holding back a smile, knowing you didnât even get an ounce of sleep.
Rick shifts the vehicle into park, and turns off the ignition. Leaving you in a calm silence, with only the sounds of an occasional frog or cricket in the air. Itâs crazy how silent nights are now that the world has changed. You donât want to say it ended. Because thatâs not true. But it has changed. Lots. And though you feel a little guilty to admit it, you donât mind the way it changed. Had things never happened, you wouldnât have met Rick or his group. They wouldnât have strolled up to your communities gates, tired and filthy and so fucking relieved to believe in humanity again. And now⊠sitting here with Ricks hand on your leg, youâre thanking god for bringing him to you. To Alexandria.
His hands trail up your smooth calf, tickling your skin. Freshly shaved, moisturized and everything. All for him.
âHow was your day?â He finally asks, shifting to face you a little better, continuing to rub little circles onto your skin.
âWoulda been better with you.â You give him as coy a look as you can manage.
âI can put you down to work construction if you really wanted.â He offers. Knowing you much preferred your time in the community garden.
You scrunch your nose and he lets out a little chuckle.
âI figuredâŠâ his hand is even higher now, squeezing at your thigh.
You both know why youâre out here. This is just the small talk. A curtesy for you both instead of just jumping right in.
âI did miss you, thoughâŠâ your voice is soft at your vulnerable admission. âReally.â
You canât tell from the dim lighting, but his gaze softens and his chest fills with warm.
âSame here, baby.â He whispers.
You bite your lip, trying not to smile too hard even though all you want is to climb on top of him and ride until your legs gave out. Lucky for you, thatâs exactly what he drove you out here for.
âAlright, get over here,â he impatiently tugs on your nightie, pulling you into his lap. You straddle him as he reclines the seat back. Hands going straight to your hips as you lean in and press your lips to his. Slow and steady. He grimes you down against his hard on, the lace of your panties being the only barrier to the rough denim of his jeans. Moaning in his mouth as you rut your hips against him, cause you just canât help yourself.
His tongue traces your lips, and he kisses you all slow and wet. Eventually trailing his lips down to your jaw, then your neck and finally nipping at your chest.
You hold the back of his head, fingers tangling into his curls, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on your skin. Your other hand going in between you to tug at his belt. Hinting at the real reason you were there. He looks up at you, stopping his assault on your breasts, and taps his hands on your thighs.
âLift for a second,â
You do as he says and he shoves his jeans down, kicking them off, to the floor of the truck. His shirt and your night dress join shortly after. Leaving you both almost naked in the old truck. Skin against skin and hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you down onto him. Already soaking wet through your panties.
âThese are cute,â he muttered against your lips, pulling at the lace of your thong. Pink and white lace, with a dainty little bow on the front. âBut I think we better get emâ off,â
You giggle and move to fumble with them, falling even further into his chest when they finally joined the pile of clothes on the truck floor.
With your mouth on his, and your body melting into him, Rick mutters against your lips. Hot and wet and so fucking sweet.
âShow me how much you missed me,â
You could cum from his words alone. Itâs as close to him begging as youâd ever get. And youâll take it. Bask in it. Memorize the sound of it. His gravely voice and the crickets in the background, to reminisce about when you canât sleep. When nothing else will make you smile.
You show him. Eagerly bouncing up and down on his length. Using his shoulders as leverage, nails digging into the muscles of his arms because you know how much he likes it. His hands stay on your ass, and the backs of your thighs, guiding your movements, taking the strain off your muscles. Your mouth doesnât leave his until youâre breathing too hard to kiss back. Rutting against each-other like a couple of teenagers, you feel your orgasm approaching. Climbing up, up, up until you reach the top. Until youâre cumming in his lap and you fall off the ledge. Until he pulls you all the way down on his cock, one last time and groans something inaudible right nest to your ear. Hips stuttering up into you as he finishes inside. Lips latching to your neck and marking you up, all while the two of you let your heart rates level back out.
When you finally get your panties back on, itâs messy and slick and seeping through the fabric. Your cheeks are flush as you pull the nighty back on, covering up as modestly as you can. Rick is dressed beside you, right wing his belt and smirking at the puddle he knows he caused under your dress. Youâre on birth control anyway. Itâs not a big deal⊠but itâs still something. Itâs claiming you, in a way. A very messy, animalistic way that requires an early morning shower when you sneak back into your house. A secret way that stays between the two of you and the old rickety truck he refuses to ditch and replace.
âLetâs get you back home,â he starts the truck and the headlights shine into the field.
You tip your head back with a smile, resting on the cool glass of the window. Eyes fluttering closed as Rick backs out of the spot and gets onto the road. You stay like that, half asleep and relaxed as ever. Ricks hand makes its way to your leg as he drives the two of you back to Alexandria. Back to the community heâs grateful to have found. To get you, a beautiful someone that heâs even more grateful to have found, back in bed before the sun rises. Back just in time to keep your frequent trips outside the gates, between the two of you and no one else.
can you write something about daryl not being able to find his vest and he finds you wearing it. what we are doing is up to you:)))
âAre we leavinâ or what?â You call out across the cell block, awaiting Darylâ to hurry up and join you for the supply run you both agreed to. A few days worth of clothes and food packed into a duffel at your feet while you zip up your leather jacket. Full pants on your legs, full sleeves covering your arms and a helmet on the ground beside you.
âIâm cominâ I just- ugh,â you can hear him throwing shit around your shared cell. Clothes being strewn around the room, onto the desk, the chair, probably even your top bunk mattress at this point. Within a very frustrated couple minutes, he walks out of the cell with a jacket on and his cross bow sling over his unusually empty back. âCanât find my damn- â he stops in his tracks when he sees you leaned up against the wall, looking over your shoulder. â-Vest.â His eyebrows pull together in an expression you canât quite decipher. Heâs annoyed, but he doesnât call you out in his usual hot tempered fashion.
âYou left it on the floor⊠didnât know you were using it.â You say, a coy little smirk pulling on your lips. You liked to poke fun at your bunk mate⊠he wasnât always the most tidy. This was your hard earned reward for being the only one to ever clean the room. A sick new vest to wear for the run.
With both of your bags in his hands, he follows you out the courtyard. Watching as you wave goodbye to Glenn inside the lookout tower and Rick from the yard. The whole way to Daryls bike, his eyes burn into the faded wings on your back. Heâs itching to ask for his vest back. To call you out and tell you thatâs his vest. But when he sees you there, all covered in leather and wearing his clothes. His clothes around your shoulders⊠thereâs something kind of⊠hot about it. Heat rises to his face at the thought. Heâd always found you attractive, sure. He wasnât blind. But with his clothes on your back and the way youâre swinging a leg over his bike, pressing your entire front up to the leather on his back⊠itâs making him really reflect on his feelings. Wondering why he likes being bunk mates so much. Why he laughs at all your jokes, shares all his food, tries to keep you up and make you giggle from his spot on the bottom bunk in the middle of the night. Why his heart is currently racing beyond belief when he revs the bike and your arms immediately find themselves wrapped around his waist, and your thighs squeezed around the outside of his legs.
He bites back a groan, thinking about how fucking long this run is gonna feel if he canât get over the inconvenience of developing a little crush on you.
thinking about living across the hall from FrankâŠ
-> always running into him at the most random times. in the elevator or the lovey super late at night or bright and early in the morning. When heâs on his way to a job and youâre coming back from work. Or youâre on your way to study at the library and heâs got his keys and a bag of groceries in his hands. Always giving you a little nod of acknowledgment but neither of you ever have the courage to speak. To actually say hi.
-> until one day where you get locked out of your apartment. You lost your keys or something. And with your luck, your roommate works the night shift at the hospital. Youâve got no way in until morning.
-> So you find yourself stuck. An hour goes by and youâre sitting on the dirty carpet hallway floor. Leaned up against the wall. Eyes fluttering closed because hell itâs been a long day. Frank, on his way home from work, makes his ways down the hall. Concerned at first by the sight of your body laying in the hall. But he gets to his door and itâs just you, half asleep. You give him a soft smile and he finally asks you for your name. You explain your situation and he nods in understanding.
âWell donât just sit there. Câmon.â Heâd wave you into his place, lunchbox in hand. Dirty from a day of construction. In desperate need of a shower and some food.
-> youâre reluctant to come in. Not because of Frank. Or at least not because you didnât like him. More so⊠the opposite. You found him intimidating. Handsome. Rugged. You always enjoyed running into him. Smiling at him in the elevator. Trying not to blush too hard. But thereâs just this aura about him that makes you a little nervous. Butterflies or something.
-> heâd tell you to make yourself at home while you wait to get ahold of your roommate. Or come up with a plan to get your keys. To call the landlord. Though you doubt theyâd answer at this hour.
-> he asks if youâre alright if he showers, âIâll be quick. You can help yourself to the fridge.â He even grabs you a beer and places it on the table in front of you. Cracking one for himself as he heads for the washroom.
-> it feels weird. Being in a strangers home. Itâs empty. Sad almost. Grey walls. Nothing⊠personal. Nothing that tells you anything about the man. Itâs clean. As clean as any of the suites in you cheap ass apartment can possibly get. But itâs bland. Itâs a bachelor suite. Heâs got nothing more than the necessities. The basics. You canât help but think about Frank. In this apartment. Every night by himself. He must be lonely.
-> you saunter over to the fridge. Not particularly hungry, but feeling slightly awkward just sitting at his table and doing nothing. Thereâs enough to make a weeks worth of sandwiches. And a more than a few weeks worth of beer. You take a swig of your bottle.
-> when the water shuts off, you get back to your spot at the table. Checking your phone. The messages with your roommate. Heâs probably busy. Drawing blood. Stitching people up. Doing whatever it is he does as a surgical intern.
-> âyou get ahold of him?â Franks voice brings you back.
âOh, no. Heâs- heâs probably busy. Works at the hospital so⊠um⊠thanks for inviting me in, but uh, I can just wait out there.â You sling your bag over your shoulder, getting up to leave.
âWait out there? All night?â He asks. Your gaze goes down to his shirt. A little damp where beads of water are running down his neck. Off his beard. You look back up. Heâs got such pretty eyes, you notice.
âYeah, iâll be alright.â You give him a tight lipped smile. But heâs not having it.
He shakes his head, âhere,â he grabs a blanket from the supply closet. And a pillow. A pillowcase. He fumbles with the makeshift bedding for a moment until he makes the couch up. It does look nicer than the stained hallway carpet.
âYou canât stay out there. Thereâs some real⊠weirdos in this area. Wouldnât want anything happening to you.â His concern makes your stomach flutter. Even if itâs just human decency. Courtesy of not wanting you to get mugged or murdered.
âYou really donât have to-â you try to deny the offer but he grabs your bag. Gently pulling it off your shoulders and placing it against the wall.
âItâs just for the night. I donât mind. Seriously.â His eyes are serious. Brows furrowed in concern.
-> the couch is cozier than you expected. Worn and used in the most perfect way. It takes you no time to fall asleep. Frank on the other hand, is having some serious insomnia. Thereâs the prettiest girl heâs ever seen, right outside his bedroom. Sleeping on his couch. Probably making his blanket smell like her vanilla perfume. Itâs making his brain all fuzzy. He canât think. Well, he canât not think. Youâre wearing one of his tee shirts. He offered it up. No, he insisted. And when saying goodnight from his bedroom doorway, he couldnât help but notice that your pants were folded up on top of your bag, and your bare legs gleamed in the dim light of the living room, as you fluffed up your pillow.
-> the two of you had some very interesting dreams that night.
-> Waking up to the smell of coffee, youâre blushing hard when he hands you a mug. He tells you he has to leave for work. Lunchbox in hand, jacket on.
-> He didnât ask for his shirt back.
-> you wave Frank goodbye as you watch him head down the hallway, and at the same time, you see your roommate come out of the elevator at the end. Both of them exchange a nod and a glance. Your roommate jogs up to let you both into your place.
âYou coulda came to the hospital. Coulda grabbed my keys,â he says plopping himself down on the couch. Rubbing his eyes. Long night for him as well.
âI didnât even think about it. He just- Frank invited me in and I was so tired⊠I mean, it seemed like a better option than sleeping in the hallâŠâ
âWell it was real nice of him. Maybe you should make him a dish or somethinâ. Lasagna? Yâknow, to say thank you.â
âYou just want some lasagna donât you?â You smirk, rolling your eyes.
Your roommate smiles back. A low chuckle escapes his throat. âThe man let you sleep on his couch. You better be sayinâ thank you somehow.â
(Idk what this is tbh but um⊠let me know what we think??)