idkseraphine - Tumblr blog

idkseraphine · 1 year

Note

Hey again!❤️

I don't know if you are taking any requests but I have something in mind so if you have time to write I would appreciate it. So the thing is that can you write a smut about Rick asking the reader to choose between him and Spencer and Rick is "torturing" the reader by not letting cum only if the reader is choosing him. I hope you understand what I think about.

Sending my best wishes love!❤️❤️❤️

Thank you!🥰❤️❤️🥰

01/05

rick grimes x fem!reader

warnings: age gap, orgasm denial, slight daddy kink, praise kink, claiming and my usual smutty stuff

Grinning, you look up at your counterpart, "Really?" He nods and your grin, if it's even possible, widens.

"Yes, really. It's a surprise. I can show you if you want," with a glint in his eye, he reaches out and pulls you closer so he can put an arm around your shoulders, "What do you say? Shall we go right now?"

He's a lot taller and you have to tilt your head to look him in the pretty eyes, "I just need to give a quick shout out so someone can take my shift. But that shouldn't be a problem."

Before he opens his mouth, you already know he'd tease you about having to give notice first, "Oh do you have to ask Daddy again before you can come with me?" Lovingly mockingly at you, you snort, "Stop calling him that...it's weird." And avert your eyes so he can't see you blush.

"Well, you always run to him first before you go anywhere and from the age it would fit", you don't have to be an expert to realize that he doesn't like the man you're going to before. But that's something he's going to have to come to terms with, and you squirm out of his arms to wink at him, "I'll be right back. I promise."

You can tell he's annoyed by this, but you're already sprinting to the gorgeous house you're spending an incredible amount of time in.

Panting, you push open the door without knocking and call out, "Rick? Are you there?"

"Upstairs," your leader's deep voice is hard to miss and you jog up the stairs to find him in the bedroom.

Hearing you, he lifts his eyes from the drawer he's rummaging in and asks, "What's up, sweetheart?"

At your pet name, your grin widens and you try not to think about the fact that Spencer hates it when Rick calls you that.

Since long before you met Spencer, Rick has been calling you that and somehow you think it's cute and when he says it in a very definite way, when his voice drops an octave and his southern drawl widens, you blush.

"Could someone take my shift? I'd like to go out," you look at him pleadingly as he lowers his blue eyes again and continues to rummage through the drawer, "You want to go out? Who are you going with?"

"So that's a yes?" you tug your shirt into place and step into the room as Rick sighs softly and pushes the drawer shut to lay against it with his arms crossed, "Yeah, ask Sasha. She wanted to take more shifts anyway," his eyes slide over your body, "Who do you want to go out with?"

You walk up to his bed and sit on it, "With Spencer."

As you expected, it stays silent.

Just as Spencer doesn't like Rick, Rick doesn't like Spencer either.

Actually, there's no reason for that, but somehow there is, and now you can see his whole body tense up, so you gently ask, "What are you looking for?"

You run the flat of your hand over the soft fabric of Rick's bed sheets and his gaze is fixed on your hand, "Just something I brought with me on my last run. I could have sworn I put it in the drawer." His voice is oddly occupied and you clear your throat quietly, "I can help you find-"

"No!"

You wince and immediately Rick relents, "Sorry, I just mean you're dating Spencer, aren't you?" Every word drips with contempt towards Spencer and you slowly stand up, "Yeah, I am. Thanks again."

Heart pounding, you walk toward the door and as you arrive in the doorway, you hear Rick's raspy voice, "Wait."

You stop without turning around and feel him come up close behind you, "Sorry, sweetheart."

There it is.

That deep and dripping with accent way of saying 'sweetheart'.

A shiver goes down your spine and his scent surrounds you as he comes even closer and puts his hands on your hips, "I'm sorry I was such an asshole."

His hands feel big and warm on your body and you stare at your feet. It's not that it feels uncomfortable or wrong.

No.

But, unfortunately, sometimes too good, and Rick notices that too.

Immediately your body relaxes and he dares to do something he's never dared to do before.

He pulls you to his chest and leans forward to whisper in your ear, "Forgive me."

His lips graze the shell of your ear ever so slightly, but it feels like he's setting you on fire. Rick has never been a man to shy away from touching you, but never...like this.

Your back is pressed against his hard chest and you barely dare move as you breathe, "Rick-"

"Do you forgive me, sweetheart?" at the words his lips graze your neck and you gasp, "Yes." Your cheeks burn and the shame of sounding so breathless doesn't make it any better.

If you only knew how fast Rick's heart is beating at this exact moment.

His hands get sweaty and he forces himself not to pull your ass harder against him, letting you go instead, "Thank you."

You stop a step forward and turn to face your leader, your cheeks flushed.

Lord, how gorgeous he is.

His blue shirt makes his eyes light up and you can barely look him in the face as he purrs, "Go ahead. I'll let Sasha know."

Your eyes are huge as you stare at him, completely lost, "Where do you want me to go?"

And that's when he sees it.

Sees you completely forget about Spencer and your body leans back toward him.

It gives his confidence a huge boost and he grins widely, "Sweetheart, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He taps his finger against your forehead and you tear your gaze from his eyes to focus, "That's right, I have to go see Spencer."

You take another step back and awkwardly brush your hair out of your face.

Tilting his head, he watches you hurry down the stairs like he's going to pounce on you any second and he shakes his head, chuckling.

As soon as he hears you pull the door shut behind you, he goes back into his room and pulls open the drawer again.

He's sure he put it in here and now he really can't find it.

When he went to the store he almost died to get it and now it's gone.

Fucking hell, he knows you'd love it.

Groaning, he drops onto his bed where you looked so pretty before and the back of his head lands on a little bulge.

Immediately he's back on his feet and yanks back the covers, groaning in disbelief as he looks into the beady eyes of the little fluffy stuffed dog.

Why the hell did he put it under the covers?

At least now he doesn't have to turn the whole house upside down and maybe he can give it to you today.

Rick takes a quick look out the window and sees Spencer pulling you into his arms at that exact moment and he wants to throw up.

Without letting go of you, Spencer leads you to the gate and grins widely at you, "You're going to love it."

Less than an hour later, you step out of the car and can't believe what you're seeing. Spencer has actually taken you to a carnival.

A carnival!

"Oh my God," your eyes get huge and you shake with joy, "How did you find this?"

Spencer places his hand low on your back and he smiles at you, "I found it in passing and I thought you might like it."

At one point you remark in passing that you used to visit every carnival you could find and that was your favorite thing to do.

You can hardly believe he remembered that, and with his warm hands on your body, he leads you from booth to booth until you arrive at your favorite.

The cans are still set up there and Spencer's hand slides to the back of your neck, "Would you like to try?"

His voice is soft and very different from Rick's.

In general, he's completely different from Rick and yet you get the feeling that he'd like to be like Rick or even better.

That's the case with most people in Alexandria, and you're pretty sure Rick doesn't even know he's adored like that.

Lost in thought, you grab a ball and toss it to the cans as if by remote control.

They all collapse and you turn to Spencer with a smile, "I haven't lost it."

"Let me try," he pushes you aside and grabs a ball himself to throw at the next pyramid of cans, only he only manages the top three and then shrugs, snorting, "It's a piece of cake."

You realize he's just ego-crushed because you're better at it than he is, but you shrug anyway and mutter, "I'll just pick out a stuffed animal for a minute, then we can move on."

As you take a step behind the counter, he grabs your arm and grumbles, "Oh stop it. That's just for little kids who are desperate to get something out of the carnival. You're a woman, not a toddler anymore."

Blushes of shame reach your cheeks because you really would have liked to pick out a stuffed animal.

Not just as a prize, but as a little reminder that Spencer brought you here.

A simple keepsake.

But now you dare not bring it up again, lest you be further embarrassed, and instead mutter, "Okay. We should get back."

The mood on the drive back is oppressive, and when you're finally back in Alexandria, you can breathe again.

Without consciously controlling it, you search the yard with your eyes for Rick, and when you don't see him, you come to the conclusion that if he hasn't gone out himself, he must be in the house.

Quietly clearing your throat, you look to Spencer, "Thanks for the great surprise. Will I see you tomorrow?"

A hint of disappointment flashes in his eyes, "I thought you could still come over. Talk a bit and...well you know."

Oh and how you know.

Even in the beginning he tried to get you into bed, but every time you rejected him.

It just doesn't feel right.

Especially when you're not togetherl.

So you shake your head, "I'm sorry, but I'm tired and I want to go see Rick for a minute and see if everything worked out with my shift."

"Of course...Rick," his tone is odd and you frown, "Why do you say it like that?"

He spreads his arms wide, "All I hear is Rick this and Rick that. You're completely obsessed with the guy and quite frankly it's sick the way he looks at you. The guy is fucking old and ogling you like he's already fucking you in his mind. Like I said, sick."

You open your mouth but he just keeps talking, "Every time I want to do something with you, you run to him first and I'm not blind either. I see him pawing at you and you absolutely don't mind, and that fucking pet name he always calls you makes me want to ram it up his ass."

With your mouth open, you stare at him as he hisses in conclusion, "I'm not up for competing with that guy when any blind man can see I'm the better choice. Better than an old and insane sack of shit. But please just run to him. Instead of sleeping with me and having the best sex of your life, you can go there and let the deranged one fuck you like a cheap whore."

He spits the last words in your face and leaves you standing there in disbelief.

Never before has anyone spoken to you like that, and never before have you had tears in your eyes by word.

Slumped over, you look after Spencer, not daring to look to see if anyone overheard the scene, and walk to the house where you would always go.

Even now you don't knock and just pull the door open, only to run head-on into Rick's chest, "Ufff, slow down, sweetheart."

Gently he grabs your shoulders and you look up at him, "Hi."

Just one look at your face is all it takes to pull you into the house and haul you onto the couch, "What happened?"

Silently, you look at him, thinking of Spencer's words.

It's true that you often talk to Rick before you go out. But that's because you don't want Rick to schedule you somehow while you're not in Alexandria, and yes, you don't mind Rick touching you and don't understand the problem with his hand resting on your hip every now and then, or brushing something off your cheek.

You just don't understand why he sees himself in competition with Rick.

With his arms crossed, he stands in front of you and you stare at him like he just fell out of the sky.

Sighing, he drops to his knees and mumbles as softly as he can, "Please tell me what happened?"

Your head is spinning and you lower your gaze to his hands, now on your knees, "I wanted a stuffed animal."��

"What?" he frowns in confusion and you say quietly, "Spencer took me to the carnival. It was gorgeous and at one booth I wanted a stuffed animal because I was dropping all the cans, so he called me childish. Rick, all I wanted was a rabbit or something. Other than that, I'm not a kid anymore."

You want to sound grown up with the words, but they're just whiny and you're ashamed of them, but Rick gently squeezes your knees, "Sweetheart, you're a great woman. Believe me no one sees you as a child here. I don't see you as a kid."

His hands slide to your thighs, "And as for the stuffed animal...wait a minute."

You blink and he's gone before reappearing with a small stuffed dog and holding it out to you, "For you."

Perplexed, you take the dog in your hand, "Where did you get that?"

He bends over and lifts you by the waist a bit to make room for himself and also sits on the couch, "That was the thing I couldn't find today. Saw the dog on a run and wanted to give it to you."

Spencer didn't even want you to take one for yourself and Rick comes back alone with a stuffed animal for you.

You don't know what to say, so Rick grumbles, "That wasn't all that went on, was it?"

You shake your head and he puts a tanned arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, "Tell me."

Your voice is unfamiliarly thin as you murmur, "When I wasn’t going home with him somehow it blew a fuse or something."

Immediately Rick stiffens and hisses, "Did he touch you? If so, I'll cut his balls off and ram them down his throat."

Immediately you shake your head, "No, no. He didn't. He just said such nasty things."

Rick's body warms your side, "What did he say?"

You close your eyes as you think about it again, "You know, I don't know him like that. He's usually a great guy, but as soon as I mention you in any way, he gets so...weird."

"What did he say?" anyone in their right mind would run away at his words squeezed with anger, so you cling to the dog and whisper, "He wouldn't want to fight you for my attention when he'd be the better choice."

In the back, you explain, "I just don't understand why he sees you as competition, you know."

Your fingers dig into the soft fabric from the dog as you swallow hard and continue with your eyes knitted to the floor, "Otherwise he would never say something like that to me, but then in the end he got all ticked off and said it was sick because you're so much older than me, but if I'm not going to have the best night of my life with him, then I should let you fuck me like a cheap whore."

Silence.

Dead silence.

"He called you a cheap whore?" he emphasizes the words strangely softly and you lift your head to look him in the blue eyes, "Yes."

"I'll kill him," he's already jumping to his feet when you grab his hand and look at him with wide eyes, "Please stay. I'm sure he didn't mean it."

Rick's hands are clenched into fists, "That guy isn't even worth looking at you. Shit, I'm gonna kick his ass so hard he'll never walk again and then he can see what competition I am to him."

He hisses, "He has no idea how easily I could get you off of him."

You blink and he snatches his hand away, "I only accepted him around you because he made you happy. Now let him even try to breathe in your direction and he'll wish he'd never called you a whore."

His whole body is shaking with tension and you're trying to sort out his words when he looks you straight in the face and growls, "Damn, you're a grown woman and it might not be much to look at that I'd like to fuck you even though you're only in your early twenties and I'm more than twice that age, but I'd show you enough respect if you'd let my cock between your legs."

Spencer is completely oblivious as you whisper, "You want me?"

Rick is so wound up and full of adrenaline that he's not even thinking about what he's saying right now, and his mouth is faster than his head, "Of course. I've wanted you for years. Every time you say something cute I want to put my dick in your mouth and every time I see you I want to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you dumb because I know how smart you are otherwise. Shit, what I'd give to fuck you until you can't form a single word and you're lying under me like a doll, taking me inside you. Over and over again."

You just stare at him and as you gaze into each other's eyes, you can tell exactly when he realizes what he just admitted.

His body goes limp and he brushes his hair out of his forehead, "Fuck, I shouldn't have said it like that."

Like a broken circuit board, you say, "You want me."

Suddenly, a lot of things make sense.

Why Spencer is always so annoyed when you mention Rick.

Why you've never seen Rick with anyone who was more than a friend to him.

Why Rick always gave you preferential treatment and also why he could hardly keep his hands off you.

He wants you and from the looks of it not just because of purely physical attraction, because he's trying to save the day again, "Not that I think about fucking you all the time. Yeah, granted, I think about it more often than is healthy, but I respect you and shit yeah, I adore everything about you. You're smart and so incredibly soft that I'd love to be near you all day, and yes, I brought you the stuffed dog so you'd look at me with wide eyes and thank me."

You remain silent.

Defeated, Rick drops down on the couch next to you and grumbles, "Please say something."

Your gaze slides to the dog in your hand and you think of all the times Rick has held you.

All the times he's offered you his food and all the times he's put you on his shoulders so you could see the wild horses over a high fence.

You bend down and set the dog on the coffee table and turn to Rick, "Thank you for telling me that, Rick."

Your heart is pounding in your throat as you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but at the last second Rick turns his head a little and your lips are on his.

You didn't want to take it to the extreme and press a sweet smack on his cheek, but now it's his soft lips pressing against his.

An overwrought sound comes from your throat, but you don't pull back either, returning the kiss instead.

A quiet thought forms in your mind that it's unfair to Spencer for you to kiss Rick, but you push it away because you're not with Spencer.

After all, you haven't even kissed.

Not that he hasn't tried, but you never wanted to.

It's different now.

Yes, in the first second you had no choice, but now in this moment, you could just move away from him and leave, but instead you open your lips and let his tongue into your mouth.

When he realizes you're not backing away, Rick grabs your soft hips and pulls you onto his lap so you're sitting astride his thighs and he doesn't have to lower his head as far to kiss you.

Your hands grip his shoulders tightly and you sigh softly into the kiss as you taste him on your tongue.

Shit, he's such a good kisser, you don't like the thought of where he learned it.

Over your hips, he slides his hands up until they slide under your shirt and he can lay them flat on your ribs and you shakily pull away from him, gasping for air.

With huge eyes you stare at his swollen lips, "Rick...I..."

He sees how unsure you are and lowers his voice until it's just a soft whisper, "Do you want me to go on, sweetheart?"

With his lips slightly parted, he looks at you and you can't take your eyes off his gorgeous face.

His blue eyes shining with arousal and his dark curls framing his face.

You lift your hands and run one through his hair and the other you place on his gray beard and run your thumb over his lower lip.

Fluttering his eyes shut and tugging at his curls, he complies with a groan and you whisper, "Yes. Please go on."

Sluggishly, he opens his eyes and slides his hands a little higher so his thumbs graze the underside of your boobs, "Come here."

You lean forward until he bridges the last few inches and your lips are reconnected.

Gently, he cups your boobs with his big rough hands and you push through your back, whimpering.

It feels so good to be touched by him in this way.

So good that you start to rub against him and moan against his lips, "You're so good."

"I know," his growl is deep and confident and the spot between your legs gets ridiculously wet.

Rick lets you take what you need and you grind yourself more and more greedily against the growing bulge in his crotch, growling against your lips, "Wanna be my good girl?"

With a jerk he thrusts his hips at you and his hardening cock presses hard against just the right spot and you howl, "Yes."

He helps you press your hips harder against him and places his soft lips on your neck, "Then choose me."

Groaning, you tug at his hair and cock your head to the side, "What?"

"Choose me instead of Spencer. Be mine and I'll make you come," he bites your neck and you gasp, "I don't belong to anyone."

One last time he pulls you back against his chest before stopping your movements, "Okay."

Irritated, you whimper, "Why won't you let me continue?"

Cockily, he juts his chin, "Lie on your back."

Your orgasm was close.

So incredibly close that you had already squinted your eyes and your whole body had tensed, but now everything inside you just feels soft and weak, so you do as he says, believing that he would then continue.

Kneeling between your legs, he pushes your dress over your hips and then leans forward to kiss your thigh, "You know-" He kisses your other thigh, but now much closer to the soft warm spot between your legs, "If you were mine-" You press your head into the couch and your breathing becomes shallow as you feel his breath on the damp fabric of your panties, "Then everything would be easy."

With parted lips, he presses a kiss to your twitching pussy and your hips jerk toward him, "I'm not an object that's either Spencer's or yours."

A glance down makes you moan because his dark curls look so incredibly wicked between your legs and his hands are firmly on your hips.

He is strong.

So incredibly strong that you can barely move as he licks you over the fabric of your panties and murmurs, "If you say so."

His beard scratches across the soft skin of your thighs and your hands fly into his hair to push his head further between your thighs, making him laugh vibrantly, "You're so pretty when you need me so bad, sweetheart."

Your pet name makes you tremble and he starts sucking on your clit.

As he moves slightly, he pushes your knees further apart with his shoulders and a strangled cry comes from your lips as the knot in your stomach forms and you finally-.

Rick breaks away from you and looks up at you from between your legs, "Whose are you?"

Your mouth drops open and you're unable to say anything.

He actually means it.

Regardless of the wet accident between your legs, he really does possess the balls to claim you in this way and fuck, it turns you on.

Silently, you stare at him, and he takes the wet fabric between his fingers, only to have it shoot out onto your pussy.

You wince and whimper, "Don't be so cruel."

Grinning, he repeats the process, "I'm not. It's a simple decision that involves my cock in your cunt or getting you out of the house dressed again. It's entirely up to you."

Your whole body is on fire and you whimper, "Don't do this to me."

He pulls your panties aside and licks once through your wetness from bottom to top.

Briefly you black out and he growls, "Fuck you taste better than I thought you would."

Having you trembling beneath him is everything he's dreamed of for so long, and he's sure you've chosen him, or you certainly wouldn't be clinging to his curls so tightly that he's worried you'll rip them out, but he wants to hear it.

He wants you to say you're his.

Tearfully, he presses his nose hard against your swollen clit and the soft pleading words on your mouth are music to his ears.

With his tongue he licks over your wet lips and presses against your entrance, while he keeps nudging your clit with his nose, making you moan and groan.

When he notices your body tense up again, he wants to move in, but you squeeze your thighs together around his head and push him into your wet pussy, "Don't you dare stop now."

Giggling, he tries to catch his breath as you nearly choke him, "Say you're mine and you get my cock. That's what you want, isn't it?"

His blue eyes light up and you know you've been his for a long time.

Longer than you've admitted to yourself.

Longer than you probably should.

He sticks his tongue just a little between your tight walls and you cry softly, "I choose you, Rick. I'm yours."

You squint your eyes, "Oh God, I'm yours. Yours."

"I figured as much," he pushes your legs off his head and reaches down to free his cock.

Thick and hard, he waits for you to open up for him to split you.

Briefly, you think about how you can't remember the last time you had sex with a man, and Rick pushes over you, bracing himself so his weight doesn't crush you.

His eyes bore into yours and he growls dangerously low, "You're mine. Only mine, and don't you dare let anyone else touch you."

Gently you reach for his cheeks, "Rick, all my life I've only let you touch me."

It's true.

The way he could move his hands freely over your body, no one else could.

Shuddering, he takes a breath and points his cock in front of your dripping wet cunt.

Your fingers brush his hairy cheek again as he presses a tiny inch into you and murmurs harshly, "God, have mercy. I won't last long, sweetheart."

You are so soft and warm under him and feel so incredibly tight and good around his cock.

But in fact it could be any pussy, but what really makes his heart race are your huge eyes with which you stare at him and the soft whimpering that comes in the form of his name over your lips.

The pure trust that you show him.

He continues to push his cock between your wet walls and exhales heavily, "You need to relax, sweetheart, or I won't fit in your pretty cunt."

"Rick...you're too big..." when he talks like that it certainly doesn't help you relax and he presses harder into you, "Relax. It'll fit. That's what you have a cunt for, isn't it? Has only the function to be fucked by my cock."

He leans forward, "And maybe give birth to my child someday."

Moaning, you push yourself towards him and he pushes himself into you to the hilt.

He's so thick and twitching inside you that you can barely keep your eyes open, and then he breathes softly, "Come closer."

Immediately he leans in and kisses you softly on the lips as he pulls out of you slightly and then thrusts into you again.

The stretch is unfamiliar and you cling to his hips with your legs, "Rick-" Your voice breaks and he rolls his hips against your pelvis, "I know, sweetheart. I know. I got you."

Your small hands clench around his shoulders and you search for purchase as he slowly fucks you.

Pushing each thrust deep inside you as you feel your pussy clench rhythmically around him.

Your body trembles under his and he settles lower on you so that you feel more of his weight on you and his closeness relaxes you more and more, "You feel so good."

A jolt goes through his body and he growls against your ear, "Yeah? Did you imagine it like this?"

He fucks you harder now and you moan his name.

Your orgasm is getting closer and closer and you feel Rick's body start to shake too.

It's a unique feeling to feel him losing control and his thrusts becoming more erratic, "Cum, sweetheart. Cum for me. Show me how much you want me."

You press your head into the pillows beneath you and give a long drawn out moan of his name as you clench around him and the pent up knot in your stomach loosens.

Your twitching pulls Rick with you, too, and he grabs your throat as he cums inside you, gasping, "Mine. Only mine."

Whimpering, you nod, "Yours."

One last thrust and Rick collapses on top of you.

His breathing is erratic and you wonder when the last time Rick fucked a woman was. It must have been longer for him, too, and you reach for his hair and gently stroke through it: "Did you like it?"

"Liked it? Fuck, it was better than I could ever dream of," he kisses you softly on the mouth.

He rolls off of you and pulls you to his chest, "Stay with me."

Grinning, you press your nose into his chest, "I intended to."

Smutty May Masterlist

Taglist: @hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @revesephemeres @emo-potato-virgil @mrsashleybarnes18-blog @starsaroundmyscxrss @starkstiless @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer @dreamtofus @lincolnswidow @rickswh0r3 @iluvdixon @sinsandsweetness @beekassyy

#its officially my bday and this is the best present ever istg #woohooo #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #twd x reader #the walking dead #twd #request #andrew lincoln #smutty may 2023

566 notes · View notes

idkseraphine · 1 year

Text

The Nurse (Part Two) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part 1, Part 2

Taglist: @strnqer, @1985bitch, @curlycarley, @imaginemyfavoritefics,

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, hospital mention, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged! And this time is loosely based on S3, E5, where Daryl and Maggie go to get baby supplies for Judith. I will not be following the story to a T though, and will kinda carve out my own path, it's been ages since I've seen it so, any weird story omits or things I don't mention are just not happening here lol. And I know this is kinda fast, I'm just writing as I feel like it, so don't expect super quick updates all the time, but here's a treat. Thanks for reading!]]

You stopped, hand resting on a tree, just for a moment. Taking some deep breaths, you scanned the area, looking for anything familiar or anything that you could, at least, stay the night in. You were practically running on less than an hour of sleep, the pure adrenaline of surviving being the only thing forcing your eyes open.

Currently, your plan was to use some old lipstick you'd found in a purse - somewhere along the road - to mark trees. Leaving a trail, so you knew where you'd been and where you were going. It was simple, and would probably wash away in the rain, but it was enough for now.

With an exhale, you kept moving deeper into the forest - a hope for a cabin, deep in your heart. An unoccupied cabin.

It's not that you didn't want to help people. You truly did. And if you found anyone who needed it, you would - other straggling groups with limps and cuts and bruises. You'd give them advice on how to clean wounds properly, some regular items they could use. If an injury was more serious, you'd stay with them just for a while to watch the person, keep an eye on whatever you had to.

It never stuck, though. You found it easier to be alone, to be on the move. You could help more people that way.

Plus, there were... others. Driven to madness by the tragedy, brutally ready to kill at first sight for whatever fucked up reason they came up with. Some of them had used you for a while, providing you food and shelter, just to ship off wounded soldiers to you - ones they wounded themselves. It was eerily familiar to your previous job, and you almost fell into a rhythm - even thinking about it now, it snuck a knot of guilt in your stomach. One too many threats, and you found yourself back to traveling.

The scrubs you still wore stuck to your skin, hair matted and blood soaked - you imagined this wasn't one of your best days. But it honestly probably wasn't your worst either.

And then, you heard it. The snap of a twig.

"Fuck," you whispered barely even a breath, pulling your duffel over your side and readying your fire axe. (You'd grabbed it back at the hospital, all that time ago.)

There was something to be said about a single snap of a twig because the dead were noisy.

They were unaware - would continue down the path, crunching leaves and snapping more twigs, dragging their feet through the dirt. In different circumstances, they could sneak up on you. With the soft grass under their feet and the hum of the animals in the forest mixing in with their own tones, sometimes you had to rely on the quietest of noises.

But this forest? No.

Without thinking a second more, you spun behind the nearest tree, the red of the lipstick - grazing along your fingers.

"What, so-" a voice spoke, "-we just give up?"

"No," a gruff tone responded, hair a little overgrown, and what seemed to be a crossbow on his back, "-Just means we got some extra work to do."

The woman, who had short brunette hair and a pistol in her hands, said, "Yeah, and we're gonna do it. We... have to. She deserves a chance."

"Of course," the man responded, a little bit upset she even insinuated he wouldn't care.

You watched carefully, eyes following the pair as they roamed through the woods - before stopping in front of one of your trees, your marked trees.

"Fuck," you muttered, so soft, the wind could’ve whisked it away, exhaling carefully and turning around to face the other way.

"What's that?" the woman asked, a tone of mixed concern and curiousity.

There was a scrape, and you could only assume the man touched the lipstick mark, as he hummed, "Not blood."

"I think..." the woman muttered, the slight slur of her accent becoming stronger, "-I think it's lipstick."

The man huffed, his accent strong, "What for?"

There was more leave crunching, and the woman replied, "Maybe a path? I don't..."

"Hello?" the man spoke, and you heard the click of metal, like he'd moved his gun up, "Is anyone there?"

The woman seemed to keep moving, leaves crunching getting closer and closer to your ears, you knew they'd notice an end of the path.

You needed to do something quick.

"I'll give ya 'til a count of 3," the man spoke, the metal clicking once more, "-one."

Your breaths shook, as you debated your options, based on what you'd seen the gun the man had was long range. So, running was out of the question.

"Two," his accent lilted.

Your feet were almost rooted in fear, what if it happened again? What if all you were surrounded by was death? What if they used you and then killed you next? God, you couldn't die, not now. Not after everything you'd done.

"Three," he added, tone more aggressive, and the click of the metal once more sending fear down your spine.

You couldn't wait any longer, squeezing your eyes shut, you spun around, "Wait!"

Expecting the blossoming pain, you flinched. Yet, after a moment, nothing happened.

You cracked open your eyes, and saw two guns trained at you, the woman and man now in clear sight. Noticing now, the bags full placed at their feet, you wondered if they thought you were here for their supplies.

Without hesitation, the man straightened his gun and asked, "Are ya bit?"

"No," you answered quickly, flourishing your arms forward as if to show the lack of teeth marks, "-no, I'm clean, you can check."

"What's your name?" the woman spoke, tone solid and unmoving.

"Y-Y/N." you stuttered out, looking down the barrel of two guns wasn't exactly calming.

The man, a bit distant, replied, "What are you doing out here?"

"I..." you exhaled, trying to calm your shaking hands which were still caked in blood (as the rest of you were), "-I'm just looking for shelter for the night. Look, I don't mean you two any harm, just leave me be and I'll-"

The woman faltered, her green eyes flickering with emotion -just for a second, "You need shelter?"

"Uh, yes," you spoke, a bit bewildered that they were listening but too tired to question it, "-I haven't slept in 3 days, I just need some rest and I'll be-"

"Maggie," the man spoke stern and low, and you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.

The sun was setting now, and if they had some shelter, this was your last chance for the night and you were just so tired. What else could you do?

Maybe you could bring something to the table.

Interrupting their hushed conversations, you began, "I... I heard you say a 'she' earlier, is there something wrong with her?"

The two stopped talking, the man's icy glare set on you, "Why you askin'?"

"I-If she's sick, I can help," you beckoned, "-I come from a hospital, I have all kinds of medical supplies. I-I can show you if you want. And-"

The man interrupted again, as the woman, Maggie you now knew, carefully watched you, "You a doctor of some kind?"

You paused, waiting for a moment before responding, "Y-yes. I'm a nurse, er well, I used to be. I... I worked at Harrison Memorial Hospital when it all went down."

The woman started this time, "And you're willing to help us?"

"Yes," you asserted, "-as long as I have a place to stay for the night. That's... that's all I ask."

"But you'll stay as long as we need ya?"

You furiously nodded, "Of course. I won't... I won't leave someone I know I can help behind."

The two turned to each other, before slowly pointing their guns to the ground. You exhaled a big breath of relief as your heartbeat slowed, muttering out, "Thank god."

The woman, held out her hand, "Maggie."

You hesitated for a moment, at the current state of your hands, before accepting it with a quick shake.

"Daryl," the man added, hand extended as well. You shook his, and began to follow in their footsteps -leading about west of where you were headed just earlier.

"Are you with a group?" Maggie asked, strolling along the woodlands.

"No," you replied, "-I... I come and go. Sometime people need a doctor so I help, but-"

The two looked at you, still watching you to say something wrong. They were still heavily armed afterall. The thought made your hands shake.

"I ended up in some shady places," you continued, "-because I stayed. So, I don't really stay anymore."

Daryl hummed in response, and Maggie simply looked at you with eyes of hesitant trust. Like she wanted desperately to trust you, but it seemed hard. You didn't blame her. Not really.

The last time you trusted someone, it hadn't gone well then either. This world is not one of trust, you knew that.

"We have a group," Maggie continued, walking in step with you as Daryl scouted ahead, "-it's small but we don't trust too well."

"Right," you murmured, expecting as much.

Daryl hummed, "We have a leader too. You'll have to meet him. You gonna be alright with that?"

Before you could even respond, Maggie interjected -an unsettled look in her eyes, "Daryl, is he even... in the space to do this?"

"Don't have to be," he responded, a little coldly, but you figured that was just kind of his tone at this point, "-he's gotta. I'll talk to 'em."

You furrowed your eyebrows, a question on your tongue, but found the following silence was not one to be interrupted. Without thought, you simply adjusted your bag and continued along. Their path was set as if this happened often, and the knowledge that you were going to a very settled camp irked you just a little.

A dynamic that felt substantial in this post-apocalyptical world usually wasn't the kindest. Oftentimes, it was 'kill or be killed'.

You knew that well, staring down at your hands (which had definitely dried by now) -you wished you had a way to wash them off. But the water was too precious to risk anyone's supplies, frankly. It reminded you of before, when veins would rupture, when hearts wouldn't beat, and everything felt like it was on the line.

An exhale, and you scrubbed your hands on your pants.

It felt immoral, as you held a fire axe in your hands. Weren't you supposed to save people? Wasn't that in the oath?

Shaking your head, you glanced ahead at the pair wondering how exactly this group operated -where they had a protocol for finding people. That wasn't... You hadn't seen much of it.

"This group," you questioned, "-how long have you guys been together?"

"Long enough," Daryl answered, curtly, "-prove yourself and you might just have a spot with us." Maggie hummed in agreement, pulling her pistol close to her chest, as a large barbed wire fence came into your view. And... were those... watchtowers?

"Is this...?" You trailed off, eyes taking in the surrounding concrete and the few stragglers either slowly trudging to the group you found yourself in, or mindlessly clawing at the tall fences as if it would do anything.

"Our base," Maggie finished, pulling her pistol to attention and shooting one of the dead just ahead of you -right in front of what you assumed was the opening gate.

"And it's a..."

"Prison, yeah," Daryl finished, pulling out his bow and killing the other one without a flinch.

"Right," you responded, a bit astonished, "-have you guys cleared the place?"

"Almost," Maggie answered, as the three of you stood directly in front of the gate. There was a watchtower to your left, and you could see the familiar glint of a scope shining down from the top.

"Glenn!" Daryl shouted, you watched as the dead stirred toward the noise, "-Let us in!"

There was a moment of hesitation, a breath of air catching in your lungs as the corpses made their way to you -slowly but surely. You knew a few weren't a threat, not with a group the size you currently were in, but you still felt this buzz of fear under your skin. Normally, you would be gone by now, vanished into the dust -not wanting to waste durability on a fight that would only bring more opponents.

Without warning, the door swung open and you assumed they had silenced the mechanism because no sound other than the screech of metal moving across the concrete filled your ears.

Which was not pleasant. At all.

The crowd there wasn't particularly large, but still seemed odd. Maybe you had been alone for too long.

A man quickly approached the group with a warm smile, rushing up to Maggie and scooping her into a hug. This figure hardly even noticed you or Daryl, now that you thought about it, but you doubted you would have either.

Daryl spoke, with a taste of disgust (you couldn't tell if it was playful or not) "That's Glenn, Maggie's boyfriend, you'll get used to it."

You nodded, pointing to a few stragglers around what looked like crops, "Okay, and... who are they?"

Without answering you, Daryl called out, "Rick out here?"

The older man who was tending to the crops looked up, eyeing you for a second, before answering, "I think he's inside, clearing out block F."

Maggie responded, "Daddy, can you see if you can get him out here?"

You blinked, absorbing the new information, Maggie's dad, right. The old man sighed, standing and brushing off his hands on his knees.

"I'll try."

Daryl nodded, not leaving your side, and it would've been comforting had you not known it was because you weren't fully trusted yet. Maggie guided you to a table, assumedly brought out from the cafeteria, and sat you down with a calm gesture to a chair. Glenn followed close behind, and Daryl merely observed.

You doubted he'd even blink while you waited for the mysterious Rick. He seemed the type to take his duty seriously.

"I'm Glenn," he held out his hand across the table, sitting just beside Maggie with curious but cautious eyes. It seemed he trusted Maggie's hesitant judgment of you.

"Y/N," you replied, accepting his hand, "-this is a lot, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Glenn continued, looking around the courtyard, "-finding the prison has been life-changing for us."

"I imagine," you laughed, a little in disbelief at the mere size, and looking over the two's shoulders to see the dead staring in through the fence. There weren't that many at all, but it still trickled in some of your solo senses.

Which were mostly bashing their head in before they get too close.

Maggie caught your eye, inquisitive almost like you were in an interview, "How familiar are you with the walkers?"

"You mean the dead?" you clarified, fingers trailing along the blood in the creases of your palms, "More familiar than I ever wanted to be, that's for sure."

Glenn opened his mouth to say something, but something bumped into your ankle and you were immediately on your feet. Prepared for the worst.

Instead of what you expected, there was a ball... An old deflated basketball probably from the court somewhere around here, you stared at it a bit incredulously. Like you'd almost forgotten it was a thing. You picked it up, brushing your finger along the bumpy texture.

"Sorry," a voice spoke. Squeaky and... familiar.

Your eyes snapped up and were met with those eyes 'You have to save him, please.' Breath caught in your lungs, your mouth moved but nothing came out. He was a little older now, with hair a touch longer and a sheriff's hat on the top of his head. But that was-

Daryl grunted, "Play somewhere else-"

"Carl?" you interrupted, tilting your head and dropping the ball to the floor; what were the chances?

Maggie stuttered out, a tone of protectiveness in her voice you'd have yet to experience, "You know him? Carl, do you know them?"

He paused, tilting his head in the same way you had just seconds before like he was trying to get a good look at you, "I..."

He looked into your eyes, eyeing your scrubs for a second -probably the same he'd seen you in so long ago. And the blue eyes that were so achingly familiar seemed to light up in recognition, he questioned, "Nurse Y/N?"

It was like a pin could drop, as the boy's gaze settled on you curiously, and every adult in the vicinity watched you like you were the most dangerous criminal in the world. A tension settling within the air that gave you uncomfortable goosebumps, and desperately made you want out of the spotlight.

Slowly, a grin slid across his features, his tiny finger pointing at you, elated, "You saved my Dad!" And before you could even react, the little boy had scurried up to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your middle - almost knocking off his hat at the force.

You blinked, a little stunned at the current predicament, but shook yourself awake. Completing the hug, you exhaled a sort of relief you hadn't known you needed. Seeing this little boy surviving such a terrible world gave you a spark of something. Like you'd been waiting to hear this.

"I promised I would, didn't I?" you hummed with a very soft smile.

Just as he let go, you crouched down and fixed his hat on his head, suddenly much more comfortable in a known presence, "Cool hat, kiddo."

He grinned even wider, but before he could even say another word, another voice echoed through the courtyard. Tone hardened and deep, this one could not be missed.

"Carl?" a breathy southern drawl -that you knew- interrupted, and your stomach flipped.

The tone was accusatory, dangerous even, so you stood quickly. A distance now established, you looked up into the figure. That couldn't be-

The blue eyes had burned into your head, so clear, so decisive.

"Rick Grimes?"

601 notes · View notes