sadslay

[sadslay]

Since I know you loved this idea so much, could it be possible to ask for a sequel where the reader as a vampire witnesses Rick ripping the claimers throat out? She’s instantly aroused and it leads to some pretty dirty stuff (ofc once Carl is safe and everything’s okay)

bless you for pulling me out of this stupid ass creative block

- BLOOD⋆☆ 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — 3.1k words, nsfw content (lowkey my first time writing it this in depth 😭), blood/gore, not edited, lmk if i missed any <3

part one

The air hit you first—raw, rich with the stench of decay and the wild musk of untamed earth. Every scent was an assault, every sound a scream. And then, the dead: shambling husks of what once were men, women, or children, dragging themselves across a broken landscape, their eyes vacant yet ravenous. It was horrifying.

It was beautiful. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you were free. No more endless tests. No more needles, restraints, or whispered theories behind glass. Gone were the fluorescent lights and the cold, white silence of Jenner’s laboratory—a tomb disguised as salvation. Those four sterile walls had not protected you.

Upon your escape alongside Rick and his weary band of survivors, the road ahead was fraught with peril. Days turned into nights, and the weight of your secret grew unbearable. Beneath a blood-red dusk, you finally unburdened yourself, revealing to the adults the truth of what you truly were. Gasps filled the air like a sudden storm—some recoiled in fear, others regarded you with a newfound dread. But none so sharply as Lori, whose distrust ran deep. She whispered poison into the ears of the others, warning that your presence was a harbinger of death, a beast in human form who might turn on them when the hunger took hold.

For weeks her words sowed unease. Eyes lingered too long, and hands hovered near weapons. But time, relentless and unforgiving, tells all truths. The children still smiled at you. The others began to see—not a monster—but a guardian who walked the line between dark and light.

As the seasons bled into one another and the dead roamed ever nearer, the group no longer feared you. They came to depend on you and seek your counsel and your strength. Lori's whispers faded into silence, and your place among them, once precarious, became undeniable. You were no longer merely part of the group. You were its shadow. Its shield. It's necessary darkness.

Nearly two years had passed, each day bleeding into the next like ink into water. While the others dreamed fitfully beneath fractured skies, you kept vigil in the shadows, eyes ever watchful. In the dead of night, when the world was at its most cursed, you hunted—dragging sustenance from the jaws of death so that they might see another dawn.

You asked for nothing. You expected less. Yet, with time you carved your place into their hearts. Those who remained—the frayed remnants of what once was a family—had come to see you not as something other, but as something essential. They no longer questioned the chill in your presence or the unnatural grace in your movements. You were theirs.

After the fall of the prison, you, rick, his son, and Michonne found yourselves on the road once again. The rest of your family was nowhere to be seen, and it was too dangerous to double back on the small chance there would be survivors. With Rick's authority, you trekked forward, not daring to look back.

The night was unnervingly still, the kind of silence that felt like it was listening. The fire burned low, its light flickering and stretching shadows across the dirt like dark, reaching fingers. Rick’s gaze kept flicking to Carl—sitting a few feet away, hands in his lap, his face pale and drawn in the weak glow—before drifting back to you. Exhaustion clung to both of you after endless days on the road, but your eyes lingered on him, tracing the lines of his face, the tension in his jaw. Then his head tipped back, the movement unthinking, baring the strong curve of his throat to the firelight. The sight sent a shiver through you, hunger curling hot and deep in your chest. The idea of having him alone—just the two of you in the quiet—made your mouth water.

Then they came out of the dark. A handful of men—filthy, armed, eyes glinting like predators who’d already sunk their teeth in. Their smiles were wrong, stretched too wide, too sure of themselves, as if the outcome was already written. The stench of sweat and rot rolled off them in waves, mixing with the damp night air until the very ground seemed to sour beneath their boots. And behind them, lingered a familiar face you didn’t think you’d see again. Daryl. He looked ashamed and afraid.

It happened fast. Too fast. With the precision of men who’d done this before, they moved like shadows with blades. You didn’t see the signal, but suddenly their formation shifted—cutting Rick off. His path to you and Carl vanished in a wall of bodies and weapons. You caught a flash of his face—eyes sharp, jaw set, every muscle in him ready to fight—but it was already too late.

Two of them seized you, hands like iron around your arms, their grip bruising. You tried to twist away, but their strength was brutal, calculated. You knew you could have taken on maybe two or three of them with ease, but not while knives were held up to the throats of your family. Carl’s shout cracked the air, high with panic, before another set of hands dragged him back.

Your stomach turned cold, but the fear only sharpened your hunger. The men didn’t know what you were—not yet. You could taste the metallic tang of their blood already, could feel the thrum of their pulses vibrating through their grips on you. Somewhere beneath the terror was an almost unbearable urge to bare your fangs, to tear their throats open before they ever laid a hand on him.

Rick strained forward, a dangerous stillness settling over him. The night around you seemed to narrow, the firelight catching on the edge of his stare like sparks before an explosion. They thought they’d won. They had no idea they’d just stepped into the jaws of monsters.

One of them, tall and mean-eyed, spoke as he walked, his words dripping with mockery. “This is how it’s gonna go,” he said, pacing in front of Rick. “You’re gonna watch. You’re gonna listen. And you’re not gonna do a damn thing.”

You could see the look in Ricks eyes change. Something in him had shifted. Your wrists burned from the rope digging into his skin, but it was nothing compared to the burn in your chest as you glanced between father and son. The leader nodded toward one of his men. The guy stepped forward and yanked Carl to his feet. Carl stumbled, trying to twist away, but the man’s arm locked around his neck, forcing his head back. A knife flashed in the firelight. Daryl cursed under his breath. Michonne tensed, but the man holding her shoved her down harder.

The leader leaned close to Rick, almost whispering. “First, the boy.”

Rick froze. Something in him—something deep, buried—snapped awake. His breathing slowed, heavy, like the moments before pulling a trigger.

“I’m gonna kill you,” he said. His voice was low, shaking, but there was nothing empty in it.

The leader only smirked. “No… you ain’t.”

And then Rick moved.

It happened in a blur—savage, unrestrained. He tore himself free from the man holding him with a burst of force that rattled the air, slamming into the one pinning Carl. They crashed into the dirt, rolling in a tangle of limbs, fists, and snarls until Rick’s weight pressed the man down. His mouth opened before thought could catch him, and his teeth drove deep into the man’s neck.

The scream was sharp, ragged—cut short when Rick bit harder. Skin tore. Blood spilled hot and fast, flooding over his tongue and running down his chin in crimson trails. Carl’s voice broke in the background, shouting for him, but Rick didn’t stop until the man went limp beneath him.

You should have been horrified. Instead, your heart hammered with something darker, more dangerous. The scent of blood hit you like a thunderclap—rich, metallic, intoxicating. It surged through your veins, calling to the hunger you had spent years mastering. Your fangs ached, pressing against your lips, straining to break free. Rick Grimes, fierce and breathless, was painted in blood, and every primal instinct she owned screamed for her to take him.

He ripped free from the man’s throat and shoved Carl behind him, chest heaving, eyes lit with a wild, untamed fury. His voice was a low growl. “Let them go.”

They obeyed without hesitation, melting back into the shadows like the cowards they were. But you didn’t watch them go. Your eyes slid to Michonne, who had Carl clutched tightly in her arms, rocking him against her chest. His small body trembled, his face wet with tears that caught the dying firelight. You held her gaze, your expression sharp and deliberate. Understanding flickered in her eyes. She shifted her grip, pressing Carl’s face into her shoulder, covering his eyes, while her hands clamped gently but firmly over his ears. Her voice dropped to a whisper—soft, soothing lies meant to keep him calm—while her own tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

The moment Carl was shielded; you moved. You slipped into the darkness without a sound, swallowed by the cold. The forest seemed to close around you, the air thick with the metallic tang of fresh blood. The men ahead laughed under their breath, confident they’d gotten away. They never heard you coming. One by one, you found them. The first barely had time to gasp before your teeth sank into his throat, hot blood flooding your mouth. You left him slumped against a tree, eyes staring at nothing. The second turned, confused by the wet sound of his companion hitting the ground, only to have your shadow wrap around him like a shroud. He didn’t even scream—just gurgled as his life poured out between your fingers.

By the third, the scent of fear was thick in the air. They began to run. It didn’t matter. You were faster. Hungrier. When it was over, the forest was silent again, save for the slow drip of blood from leaves and branches. You stood among the bodies, breathing in the quiet satisfaction of knowing none of them would ever hurt Rick—or Carl—again.

And when you stepped back into the firelight, there was nothing on your face to betray what you’d done. When you returned you found Rick still dripping in blood, watching his son slowly drift to sleep. Rick spat into the dirt, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but the copper tang lingered in the air. It wrapped around her senses, sweet and maddening. Her heart was racing as she watched Rick like a predator held at bay, her lips parted, lust burning behind her gaze. The man she had grown to love was covered in blood and fuming with an animalistic rage she had never seen before.

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up.” You instructed, your voice soft and sultry as Rick finally looked at you.

Rick glanced toward Michonne, her arms wrapped protectively around the sleeping form of Carl, before turning to follow you into the shadowed depths of the tree line. As you stepped beside him, the darkness pressing close, your mind ignited with forbidden, indecent thoughts—wild, reckless desires twisting beneath your calm exterior, fuelled by the heat of the night and the dangerous nearness of Rick’s steady presence.

You and Rick slipped quietly through the dense trees, the muffled sounds of the camp fading behind you. The night air was cool and sharp, a welcome contrast to the heat simmering just beneath your skin. After a few minutes, the soft rush of water grew louder ahead—a nearby creek, its surface catching the faint moonlight like scattered shards of glass. You stopped at the bank, the ground soft and damp beneath your boots. Rick’s eyes met yours in the dim light, heavy with unspoken tension. The creek’s gentle flow seemed to echo the steady thrum of your racing hearts.

Without a word, you stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until there was nothing but breath and the electric brush of skin. Rick’s hand found your waist, warm and steady, while your fingers traced the line of his jaw, memorizing every rough edge. Your gaze caught the dark smear of blood on his cheek—the deep, vivid stain that stirred something fierce and primal inside you.

With slow, deliberate hunger, you leaned in, letting your tongue flick across the crimson, tasting him—warm, metallic, intoxicating. Rick’s breath hitched sharply, his eyes darkening with a mix of surprise and raw desire. You traced your tongue slowly over every drop of blood glistening on his chin and lips, each lick deliberate and teasing. Your mouth followed, planting soft, lingering kisses along his jawline and down his neck, the warmth of your breath sending sparks across his skin.

Rick’s breath hitched, a low, guttural groan rumbling from deep within his chest as desire coiled tighter between you. Your hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers exploring the hard planes of his back, pulling him closer until there was nowhere left to escape. Every touch, every kiss stoked the fire burning between you—raw, urgent, and impossible to deny. Your bodies pressed together, heat with the cool night air, the creek’s gentle murmur fading beneath the rhythm of your racing hearts.

You moved against him with a slow, teasing hunger, lips brushing and biting just enough to drive him wild, hands roaming, tracing, claiming. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling your mouth back to his, deepening the kiss until it was a desperate dance of need and release. The world narrowed to skin and breath and the electric charge pulsing between you—two bodies aflame beneath the indifferent stars.

“Fuck.” He swallowed hard, eyes darkening as he looked down at you—your breath shaky, lips parted, the slick sheen of desire glistening on your skin.

The heat pooling between your legs wasn’t just from the night; it was from the storm of thoughts racing through your mind, setting every nerve ablaze before a single touch was even made. Beneath the tangled canopy of trees, the night pressed close—thick with scent and shadow, hiding the heat simmering between you. The moon spilled silver light in shards, catching the sweat gleaming on your skin as Rick’s hands gripped your waist with a desperate hunger.

His lips crushed against your neck, teeth grazing and biting with a savage edge that made you gasp and arch into him. The sharp contrast of rough bark against your back only sharpened every sensation—every slick slide of skin, every slick wet whisper of breath. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him deeper into the fierce kiss, your tongue sliding over his as you both groaned low and ragged. His hands didn’t hesitate—exploring, claiming, trailing fire wherever they touched, dragging you closer until there was no space left between you.

Clothes fell away like dead weight, forgotten as your bodies pressed naked against one another, slick and slickening with heat. The earthy scent of the forest mixed with the raw musk of desire, thick and heady in the night air. Rick’s mouth moved from your lips to your collarbone, sucking bruises into your skin as his hands roamed lower—over curves, teasing, grabbing, making you shiver with want. You ground your hips against his, needing, aching for the feel of him inside you.

“Get on the ground.” He murmured, watching you as you instantly knelt. Rick loomed over you, watching you, sprawled out on the ground. “Your so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Rick popped the button of his jeans, dragging down the zipper with a harsh breath, kneeling between your spread legs—his breathing ragged, desperate. Instinctively, you opened yourself wider, inviting him closer.

A low, breathy laugh escaped him before his hand shot out, gripping your ankle and pulling you toward him, his body pressing fully against yours, engulfing you in heat and weight. His hands roamed hungrily over every curve, exploring with rough confidence, before one palm slid down the smooth skin of your thigh, sending a shiver racing through you.

“Your so fuckin’ needy.” Rick muttered, his middle finger tracing along the seam of your underwear, teasing you.

The thought of waking tomorrow with his mark pressed into your skin made your stomach twist with anticipation.

“Please, Rick,” you whimpered, voice thick with need, desperation creeping into every word as you ached for any kind of friction—any spark to set the fire roaring inside you.

“Say it again,” Rick murmured, his voice low and thick with heat as he pressed himself closer, grinding slowly against you. He watched, eyes dark and hungry, as you writhed beneath him, every shiver and gasp feeding the fire between you.

Your fingers curled into the dead leaves you laid on, the frustration and desire burning in your core. “Rick.” You moaned senselessly. “Please Rick.

He revelled in the sound of your desperate pleading. Rick’s hands clamped firmly around your hips, grounding you as he slid inside slow and deliberate, if only for a heartbeat. You gasped, breath catching as he vanished deeper within you, inch by agonizing inch.

Your hands scrambled along the broad planes of his back, nails digging in, desperate and relentless, as you adjusted to the overwhelming fullness you’d longed for. Every motion stoked the fire burning between you both, raw and consuming, until nothing else existed but the fierce rhythm of your bodies entwined.

“That’s my girl.” Rick coos as he begins a brutal pace.

His grip was relentless, fingers digging fiercely into your hips as he pulled you back against him with raw, unyielding force. The wet, primal sound of skin slapping against skin shattered the silence of the forest, filling the night with a hungry rhythm.

Your soft gasps and moans echoed like a secret song between the trees, swallowed by the dark but impossible to ignore. Rick’s eyes burned as he watched you writhe beneath him, your back arching, hands clawing at his skin and tangling in his hair—desperate to anchor yourself to something real, something solid.

Every powerful thrust sent electric shockwaves rippling through your body, stealing your breath and making it hitch with need. The wildness in his gaze matched the fire burning in your veins, a fierce hunger that neither of you could—or wanted to—resist.

His hot breath brushed your ear as he whispered, “This what you needed, baby?” his voice low and thick with heat as he pressed himself closer.

The speed of his hips quickened, driving faster and deeper as the tension between you snapped tighter, both of you teetering on the edge, lost in the wildfire of your rising pleasure. With every thrust, every breathless whisper, the world around you blurred into nothing but heat and sensation. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the tension built, raw and unrelenting.

Rick’s voice dropped to a husky growl, matching the rhythm of your racing heart. “Come for me baby,” he urged, and you did—shattering into a rush of pleasure that sent shockwaves through your body.

He followed, his release rough and powerful, grounding you both in the fierce, trembling aftermath. For a long moment, you lay tangled together beneath the stars—skin slick with sweat, hearts still pounding, the cool night wrapping around you like a whispered promise.

“I love you.” His voice cut through the quiet, soft and trembling, his eyes locked onto yours in the silver glow of the moonlight.

A shiver rippled through you—not from the chill of the night, but from the weight carried by those three simple words, spoken like a vow carved into your very soul.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

[sadslay]

ITS TOO MUCH PEDRO PASCAL CONTENT, 2025

[sadslay]

my girlfriend really liked your work but we’re long distance now so could you do some kinda shit with abbey and a girlfriend where they get separated but keep looking for each other?

- GONE ⋆☆ 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — none really? lmk

“you know i’ve done this trip a billion times.” you whined, looking down at abby as she placed the bar bell on its resting spot before looking up at you.

the fine little hairs surrounding her forehead clung to her skin as little droplets of sweat fell from her forehead into her eyebrows.

abby sighed, wiping the back side of her forearm against her forehead. “yeah i know,” she panted, standing up to tower over you. “s’just you haven’t done it alone before.”

she wasn’t entirely wrong. you hadn’t done this trip by yourself before due to the area being heavily populated with scars, but that didn’t mean you were capable. looking up at abby you let out a sigh of frustration, only making her smile. abby wasn’t all that much taller then you, maybe only a few inches but the sheer size of her shoulders and arms, her muscle mass as a whole made you feel dwarfed. so when she stood right in front of you with that smug smirk she always has plastered on her face, you couldn’t help but listen to and obey every little word that came out of her mouth.

“so you don’t think i can do it?” you smart mouthed, crossing your arms in protest.

a breathy laugh escaped abbys mouth before she turned around to load more weights onto her bar. “i didn’t say that.”

“you think it.” you quipped.

“i think you can definitely handle yourself.” she grunted lifting one final weight onto the bar. “i just don’t like the idea of you going alone, thats all.” she shrugged, sitting back down onto the worn leather bench.

you adored the fact that she cared for your safety, in fact if it were up to you, you would happily stay at the camp and spend every night with abby. but being apart of the w.l.f means you have a job and yours was tactical training at different outposts. just about every other month you had to travel for your job if you could even call it that.

“babe.” abby spoke quietly, pulling you from your thoughts. you hummed, letting her know you were listening, “can you spot?” she asked softly.

you got yourself in position, looking down and carefully watching abby as she did each rep. “i leave tonight.” you mentioned, screwing up your face as abby slammed the bar back down on its resting spot.

“what?” she snapped. “no way, you’re not leaving at night. thats the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard.” she spat, sitting up to face you.

“issac’s orders.” you replied, shrugging in response. “it gives me cover from the scars anyways.” you added.

abby let out a sigh. you could tell she was frustrated by issacs decision. it was rare that abby ever got mad or frustrated by you, in her eyes you were an angel that would do no wrong.

“i’ll talk to him.” abby muttered, absolutely fuming as she laid back down to continue doing her reps.

you watched her as she muttered insults under her breath and in record time she had finished her set. “ab’s, its okay.” you mumbled quietly. “you know i work better at night.” you smiled, rubbing her shoulders as she sat up. “under the cover of darkness.” you teased.

abby let out a soft laugh that bought a smile to your face. "are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" she asked, an inkling of worry beginning to creep into abbys mind.

it wasn't you she was worried about.

"abs i'll be fine." you smiled, entirely confident in yourself. "plus because i can bring you back a present." you teased.

later that day you were getting some last minute instructions from issac, with abby close by your side, still trying to convince issac to let her go with you.

"let it go abigal." he finally snapped. "she's a grown woman, let her do what she needs to do." issac spat, causing abby to let out a puff of frustration. "make sure you hit shoreline too, they've just had an influx of new soliders." issac added, directing his attention back to you.

"i'll add it to the list."

issac gave you a few more details and instructions on what to do on your trip before sending you down to the gates. abby followed you like a shadow, making sure she was with you right up until you stepped outide those gates.

“got your lucky knuckles?” abby asked, her figure towering over yours as she looked down at you, closely admiring and remembering every little detail of your face.

“always.” you replied, past abby to see a plethora of guards waiting for you to leave. “i should go.” you mumbled, not wanting to prolong to goodbye for much longer.

abby turned around, the sea of guards and soldiers watching on. “don’t let them rush you.” she instructed, turning around to see your sweet innocent face.

An unexpected ambush by the Scars was not the start of your nightmare—it was just the opening. The attack had been quick, brutal—no time to process, no time to fight. Then the silence, thick and suffocating, settled in, as though the forest itself had swallowed you whole. Days bled into each other, your mind blurring as you wandered, alone in a place where the very air felt wrong. The trees whispered secrets, their branches reaching like fingers, scratching at your skin, as if they wanted you to stay, to become part of the earth. Every night, the wind howled through the empty space, carrying with it echoes of the voices you once knew—twisted and distant, as though they were calling you to join them in the dark. Your body became a ghost of itself, hollowed out by hunger, thirst, and the endless, gnawing fear that something—someone—was watching her from the shadows.

When issac had declared you dead only a few days after you left, abby was no longer the same. begging issac to send search parties after you, abby was denied time and time again. "its a waste of resources." he’d say.

you rolled your shoulders back, and put a little speed into your step as you approached. the main gate. the relief that washed over you was unimaginable. the guards surrounded the gate raised their weapons, ready to pull the trigger at any given moment.

"y/n?" owen yelled out, lowering their weapon as you smiled. "holy shit!" he chuckled, swinging his weapon around to his back before running towards you.

you sworn you could have cried. you and owen were never all that close but just seeing him after a month of being lost made you want to break down.

"hey." you smiled, your body exhausted as he pulled you into a friendly embrace. "long time no see." you jocked, a little breathless after the endless weeks of walking.

"are you okay?" he stuttered, in disbelief that you had returned. "i mean shit, we all thought you were dead." he continued.

you nodded, your body relaxing as you pulled away from each other. "yeah, just a little sore." you lied.

you were covered in bruises and scratches from the untamed terrian you had been hiking through in the last few weeks, you were sure the bottoms of your feet would be bleeding or covered in blistered.

"lets get you inside." he insisted, ushering you towards the gate.

at the wlf camp, it was mandatory for everyone going into the camp to have a medical check to make sure no one was bringing in an an infection. all you wanted to do was lay down, but you knew you had a full day of finding people and telling them you were in fact still alive.

"hows abby?" you asked owen as you walked towards the medical tent.

owen furrowed his eyebrows, "ah," he hesitated for a moment, looking across at you before mumbling, "not well."

your heart shattered. you had no idea that a simple little trip would be so detrimental. you knew that as soon as you were cleared from the med bay you were going to find abby.

"well i'll let you go." he weakly smiled, stopping a few feet away from the entrence to the med bay. "i'm glad your back, hopefully it'll get abby out of her sour mood." he lightly joked, offering you a hopeful smile before walking back to his station.

the green canvas medical tent stood in front of you, buzzing with activity as numerous soldiers wondered in and out for checkups. pushing the heavy canvas door to the side you walked inside the chillingly the told tent and looked around. it was like everything was frozen in time before you left, not a single thing had changed.

"and they said you were dead," nora smirked, leaving her patient's side as she approached you.

"they tried, but they could not kill me." you replied theatrically, smiling as nora pulled you into a tight hug. "how've you been?" you asked quietly, holding onto the hug a little longer.

you could feel nora nodding before she numbled, "i should be asking you that." she weakly laughed.

"y/n?" a familiar voice questioned from a few feet away.

raising your head from the crook of noras neck, you scanned your horizons to find mel standing in complete shock. you smiled as nora pulled away to stand besides you. you and mel had never been all that close, especially when her and owen started dating not long after he and abby had broken up. the whole thing never sat right with you.

"issac said you were dead." she said in disbelief.

you let out a weak, breathy laugh. "he never found a body, did he?" you quipped, trying to make light of the situation.

before mel could respond, you felt a pat on the back from nora, "let's get you checked so we can take you to abby." she smiled.

following nora to her medical table, leaving mel behind, you ask, "how's she been doin'?"

"lay down," nora instructed. following her instructions, you laid down and pulled up your sleeves and the bottoms of your pants. "she's been struggling," nora said quietly, going over your skin and checking all the scratches and marks that had been left behind. "she's been in a real shitty mood since you left, actually, well before issac even said you were, well dead," she continued. after giving you a nod, clearing you of any bites, you sat up as nora continued to do her inspection. "after issac said you were gone she really dialled in on that joel guy from saint mary's." nora also informed you as she took your temperature.

"she found him?" you quickly asked, knowing how long abby had been looking for this guy.

nora took the thermomieter out of your mouth, reading your numbers before calmly replying, "she's got a rough area of where he might be, i think she said somewhere down in wyoming." nora shrugged.

"holy shit." you mumbled. "and she hasn't immediately gone after him?" you asked, as nora began to fill out some paper work.

"nope, she said she was waiting for a more exact location." she replied, finishing the last of her paper work before looking at you with a smile. "enough about that though; lets get you out of here."

walking around the wlf camp with nora, you had noticed hundred of eyes watching your every move. if issac had told everyone you were dead, then seeing you walking around camp very alive would be quite a shock. as you walked into the buzzing cafeteria, your eyes were scanning for abby. you grew nervous as you tried to find her, doubts crawelled into the back of your mind as she was nowhere to be seen.

but then you saw her. she was sitting besides manny, and she looked like she was in a fowl mood. abby's eyebrows were pinched together as she focused on her food rather than the friends surrounding her. just before you could call out to her, it was almost like she knew you were close as her eyes lifted to look around the room.

abby froze. your bottom lip began to curl as tears welled in your eyes. in the blink of an eye she stood up from the cafeteria table and began to run towards you, attracting the attention of almost everyone.

quite literally jumping into abby's arm, you wrapped your legs around her torso as you both tightly held onto each other. refusing to let go as you sobbed into her shoulder.

"i thought i'd lost you," she mumbled. "issac said you were-"

giving abby a kiss on the cheek you whispered, "i know, i know. i'm here now."

slowly, as the pair of you had remembered you were still in a very public place, your feet dropped back to the floor. "you aren't ever leaving my side again." she demanded, loosening the hug for just a moment to look at you. "god i missed you so much." she breathed, on the brink of tears as she pulled you back into a tight hug, her big arms almost curshing you.

once you and abby found yourself alone in the quietness of her bedroom, you could finally rest. your shoulders slouched as you sunk into abbys bed. after explaining your story to everyone the silence was nice, but you had one burning question on your mind.

“so tell me about this joel guy?” you asked softly, treading on thin ice as you had come to learn how sensitive abby was about the subject.

her eyes met yours, filled with rage and a desire for revenge. “i don’t know much,” she started, clenching her jaw. “but he’s down in wyoming in with some group. no idea how big or small but my guy said that hes close to a town called jackson.”

“never heard of it.” you shrugged. “how do you know this?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

abby looked down at her lap were here hands rested. her fingers fiddling with her cuticles and nails before she bitterly responded, “a firefly.”

a thick silence came between you and abby. she had finally found the man she had been looking for four years and you could feel the need for vengeance radiating from her.

“i’ve never been to wyoming.” you spoke softly, trying to force a sweet smile as abby looked up at you. “i heard it snows there.” you grinned, making a soft smile ghost over abbys lips. “do you remember the last winter we had a saint mary’s?”

abby nodded, a warm and familiar smile creeping onto her lips. “yeah, we basically spent the whole winter attached at the hip.” she laughed.

“do you remember why?” you teased, causing abby to shake her head as she couldnt recall why. “one night in the middle of winter, and we got our hands on some alcohol from before.”

“oh thats right!” abby cut in, the sudden remembrance of the event making her smile grow.

you giggled at her eagerness before continuing. “thats when nora had the bright idea of playing a game.” and just like that, abbys fondness of the memory had turned into embarrassment. “i think it was called seven minutes in heaven,” you continued sarcastically. “i think nora had heard learnt about it from one of her sisters or something, but in the second round you and i were chosen to go into closet.”

“oh god.” abby groaned. “how do you even remember this?” she grumbled.

“i’ve got a very good memory abs.” you snickered, playfully nudging your shoulder against hers. “and if my memory serves me right thats the night you confessed how you felt about me.” you continued to mock.

abbys head fell back against the wall, the embarrassment now consuming her as you continued to mock and tease. “i-i just think you’re really hot and ive liked you since forever!” you giggled, retelling it in the best impression of abbys voice you could give.

“you’re an asshole.” abby rolled her eyes, finally looking back at you as you continued to giggle.

“oh but you’ve liked me since forever though!” you teased, pouting your lips only to cause abby to roll her eyes once again. “Feels weird,” you muttered, breaking the silence. “Being back. Like I never existed here.”

The sudden shift in energy had caused abby to sit on the edge of the bed, her thigh brushing up against yours as she quietly mumbled. "You did." Her hand reached out to touch your knee, her touch delicate and calming. "You do." She whispered.

You looked at her. Really looked at her. She was trying to be strong, as always—but you could see it in her eyes: the cracks. The guilt. The grief. The need. The air between you shifting—tightening. She looked down at you just as your fingers brushed her cheek. Neither of you spoke.

There was no need to. When you leaned in, she met you halfway—her mouth warm and familiar, a sigh escaping her lips the second you touched her. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. It was months of searching, months of waiting all collapsing into this one fragile moment.

Her hands found your waist, your fingers tangled in her hair, and she pulled you into her lap as if anchoring herself to something real—something that hadn’t changed. The kiss deepened, teeth grazing lips, breath hitching as your bodies pressed closer. Her no long white tank top was the first to go, your top not far behind, layers peeled away like defenses neither of you needed anymore.

The world outside was chaos, but in this room—in this moment—it was just you and her. Just heat. And history. And want. And when she laid you back against her sheets, hovering over you with that same look she’d given you in the dark of Saint Mary’s all those years ago, it felt like everything had come full circle. Like maybe, just maybe, not everything had been lost.

[sadslay]

Your Rick grimes reader got me thinking: Rick grimes x vampire reader who’s at the cdc with Jenner? Perhaps an old history between reader and Rick who’s come with Carl (maybe Lori died or they’re a blended family with Shane and Lori)(?). Please let me know if you can’t do it

omg this is so fun i will try my best bby! lmk what you think

- BLOOD⋆☆ 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings— mentions of blood & disease, i kind of got carried away so everything happens kinda suddenly, 2.6k words

part two

All you had ever known were the walls and corridors of the Atlanta centre for disease control. You had never felt the warmth of sun against your skin. You had never smelt the summer breeze that carried the fragrance of blooming flowers. Led lights that hummed at every waking hour was all you knew. Because you, were a succubus. A vampire. Created by disease riddled blood that was centuries old you were cursed with this sickness from the moment you were born. An insatiable quench for blood had consumed you for decades.

You were raised in the Atlanta CDC, and you were given the best education anyone could have received. Initially you were fed a carnivorous diet as the head scientist believed it may have been enough to quench your thirst for blood. And for the first few years of your life, it did, but as you grew you became malnourished and the only thing that kept you healthy was blood. As you reached adulthood the tests became more invasive and higher in risk. Jenner – the leading scientist on your case – would feed you diseased blood to see if your body could conquer the illnesses.

Hepatitis, Malaria, Bubonic plage, Syphilis, every disease they had in the lab was fed to you. Fed to you to see if you would survive and every single time, the sickness never even affected you. You never experienced a single symptom, so that’s when Jenner had created his own disease. A disease that was never meant to make it out of the lab and was strictly designed to create a counter vaccine. But not even Jenner could have predicted the outcome of his little experiment. Jenner had created an airborne disease that would wipe out ninety percent of the world’s population in a matter of weeks.

Two months later and any last hope of a government or civilisation being restored, you and Jenner were the only ones left at the CDC and much to his discomfort, Jenner had given you some freedom within the last few weeks as his psyche began to dissipate. During the days Jenner would mindlessly work to find a cure for his own creation you would roam the halls of the CDC, exploring rooms and corridors you had never seen before. In the last few days Jenner had been especially on edge as the oxygen and energy supply was beginning to run out and it would be a matter of days until the generators finally shut down.

Most nights you found yourself roaming in the foyer of the entrance to the CDC wishing you could see the soft glow of the moon but when your routine had become interrupted by an alarm sounding and Jenner running out from elevator.

“Get back!” Jenner demanded, firmly holding onto a shotgun you had never seen before.

“What’s happening?” You shouted, making sure Jenner could hear you over the loud ringing alarm.

But before he could answer, the doors began to open, and the smell of the outside world rushed in. The death and decay from the dying outside world burnt the inside of your nose and hit the back of your throat. After a moment, your eyes landed on the group of survivors. Their clothes tattered and covered in filth.

“Anybody infected?” Jenner demanded, his voice deep and stern and he pointed the gun in the direction of the survivors.

A man stepped forward, wearing a sherifs uniform that was a mix of beige and brown. He looked tired but remained calm as he answered Jenners question. “One of our group was. He didn’t make it.” He answered truthfully, his southern twang piquing your interest as everyone at the lab was typically from the city.  

“Why are you here?” Jenner asked, his questions cold and lacking in any sympathy. “What do you want?” He continued, slightly lowering his weapon as he had finally noticed the two children they were travelling with.

The rise and fall of the survivors’ chests stirred something electric in your core. You couldn't tell if it was the scent of their freshly oxygenated blood, or something deeper, more primal. But all these new bodies made your heart race.

“A chance.” The sheriff pleaded, his arm wrapping around the small child behind him.

“That’s asking an awful lot these days.” Jenner quipped, briefly looking over to you before looking back at the survivors.

The sheriff looked at you with desperation in his eyes and just slightly you had noticed a shift in his eyes as they looked you up and down. “I know.” He spoke softly, his eyes not breaking from yours.

Jenner completely lowered his gun. “You all submit to a blood test. That’s the price of admission.”

Blood. Jenner knew you had been growing hungry as the blood supply was beginning to run low, but he also knew this would be an opportunity for you to feed. Despite the constant testing over the decades, Jenner had grown attached to you, and despite your nature and his job on rare occasions he’d treat you like his child. And with less then a week of air and electricity left, he felt accomplished to give you one last feed.

“We can do that.” The man agreed, looking back at his people as they nodded, eager to get into safety.

“You got stuff to bring in, you for it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed.” Jenner spoke grimly, his words ringing a deeper level of truth that the survivors did not understand as they grabbed their things in a panic and made their way inside.  

As Vi – Jenner’s AI he had designed a few years ago – sealed the doors you followed Jenner like a shadow as you and the survivors all piled into the elevator. Introductions were made in the short elevator ride down to the fifth floor. The floor you were most familiar with. As Jenner took their blood for ‘testing’ you lingered in the shadows, watching how they all interacted with each other, but one survivor kept catching your eye. Rick Grimes. A single father to Carl – one of the young children amongst the group – and a divorcee of Lori.

You had quickly picked up on each dynamic in the group as everyone around you ate their first meal in days. Shane – Ricks friend before the fall of humankind – and Lori seemed to be flirtatious with each other, especially as the bottle of red wine got passed around the table. You and noticed Rick intentionally avoiding their conversation. That’s when you noticed him starring at you.

“What’s your name?” Rick asked, eating a small spoonful of food before putting down his utensil. “I didn’t quite catch it earlier.” His southern drawl smooth and inviting.

“y/n.” you sweetly replied, the smell of his blood on the tip of our tongue as you leant in closer to him.

Rick smiled, taking his glass of wine and taking in a sip. “How do you know Jenner?” He asked, turning his body towards yours.

“He’s, my father.” You lied. Smiling to hide your truth, you extended your hand to touch Rick’s knee. “Steph-father, I know we look nothing alike.” You giggled, hoping it would be enough to convince Rick.

The touch of our cool skin against Ricks denim jeans sent electricity up your fingertips. For the first time you had been allowed to drink wine, and its effects were hitting you harder than you had expected. Rick had also noticed the effects of the wine beginning to take effect after having little to no food for the past few days, it hit him quicker then he had expected.

“You certainly do not.” He glanced down at your hand, then back into your eyes, lingering there. He’d never seen eyes that dark before—haunting, magnetic. You stirred something in him, something he hadn’t felt in years. It was raw, instinctive… primal.

Rick’s jaw flexed as your fingers drifted lightly over the denim of his jeans, the touch subtle but impossible to ignore. He didn’t shift away—just watched you with that guarded, unreadable stare, the kind that made it hard to tell whether he was curious or cautious.

“I imagine you’re exhausted,” you said, voice soft, almost teasing, as you traced slow, lazy circles against the rough fabric. “Long days. Long… everything.”

Rick gave a quiet hum, lifting his glass but not drinking from it. “Yeah. Something like that.” His voice was low, rough around the edges—like gravel in warm honey. He turned slightly, angling his body toward yours, but his posture stayed tight, alert. Controlled.

You smiled, resting your elbow against the table. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How quickly a little bit of wine helps you relax.”

He studied you then—really studied you. His eyes lingered on your mouth for half a second too long before flicking back to your eyes. “We just met,” he said, a quiet reminder. But it wasn’t a dismissal. If anything, it sounded like a question.

“I know,” you said, tilting your head.

Rick didn’t answer right away. The silence between you stretched, thick and humming with something unspoken. You were both strangers, sitting too close, saying too little—and yet, everything in his body language said he felt it too. The pull. The tension. The temptation.

Finally, he let out a slow breath and set his glass down.

“You always touch people you just met like that?” he asked, his tone careful—measured—but his eyes flickered with something darker.

You gave him a slow smile, dragging your fingers back down to your own lap. “Only when I want them to remember me.”

You’d always had a way of luring men in—like a siren cloaked in soft skin and quiet laughter. It wasn’t learned; it was instinct, something ancient woven into your being. Men never saw the danger, not at first. They came willingly, drawn your eyes lingered a second too long, the way your voice curled around their name like silk.

You didn’t need to bare fangs to make them bleed for you. It was easier this way—letting them want you, letting them think it was their idea. By the time they noticed the cold in your touch, the hunger in your gaze, it was already too late. And Rick… Rick smelled like fire and sweat and blood just beneath the surface. Warm, human, pulsing with life. He didn’t know it yet, but he was already sinking. Already yours.

The steam from the showers curled through the corridors, thick and heady, cloaking everything in heat and silence. Laughter echoed in the distance—distant, irrelevant. Your focus was razor-sharp, homed in on Rick. He was all you could think about—he filled your mind, your senses, your need.

He had slipped away to the far end of the showers, choosing the stall most hidden from view, separated from the noise, the others… from temptation. But you were already moving toward him, shedding each piece of clothing with deliberate grace, like a ritual. Every step forward felt heavier, hotter.

Rick tried to steady his thoughts, to tame the fire that had been smouldering inside him since the moment your eyes met hours earlier. He scrubbed at his skin like it would keep his thoughts clean, but when the curtain drew back and you stood there—bare, bold, electric—his restraint shattered.

You slid into the stall and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. Your cool skin met his heat, sending a sharp jolt through both of you. The moment your bodies met, Rick’s breath caught in his throat. His hands hovered at your waist, hesitant for only a second before gripping your hips like he’d been starving for touch.

The water rushed down around you both, hot and relentless, soaking your skin and plastering your hair to your face, but neither of you noticed. All that existed now was the space between heartbeats—and how quickly that space was closing. Your fingers threaded into his damp hair as you tilted your head, lips brushing the corner of his mouth—teasing, testing.

He let out a low groan, deep in his chest, the sound of a man losing a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to win. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, but his hands were already roaming your  back, drawing you closer, his voice laced with a tension that contradicted the words.

You smiled against his skin, pressing a kiss just beneath his jaw. “Then tell me to go.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he captured your mouth with his, rough and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long. The kiss burned—hotter than the water pounding against your shoulders. It was teeth and tongue and need, the kind that couldn’t be reasoned with.

Your back met the cold tile wall, a sharp contrast to the heat between you, and he was on you—every inch of him pressed flush to yours. His hands explored with a hunger that felt dangerous, reverent, like he was memorizing you. Every curve, every gasp, every shiver.

Outside, footsteps passed, muffled voices carried on the steam—but they may as well have been a world away. In here, there was nothing but wet skin, frantic breaths, and the thrum of something inevitable.

Rick pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, water trailing down the angles of his face. His voice was low, wrecked. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

You smirked, brushing your lips against his again. “Then don’t hold back.”

The moment held—suspended like a breath you hadn’t yet taken. The light caught the edge of his jaw, the faint stubble along his cheek, the hollow of his throat where his pulse beat steady and strong. You could hear it clearer than anything else now, thrumming beneath the surface, calling to you like a forgotten melody.

His scent hit you fully then—salt, iron, heat. It filled your lungs, your head. The hunger you’d been keeping down began to rise, slow and deliberate, curling like smoke inside your chest. You shifted subtly closer, your voice dropping just above a whisper.

“You smell… incredible.”

Rick raised an eyebrow, but something in his face tightened. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

You didn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, your body leaned in, your lips ghosting just beside his ear. The warmth of him soaked into your skin—alive, rich, intoxicating.

“I told you,” You murmured, barely audible. “I only touch the ones I want to remember me.”

Then, with practiced grace, you tilted your head—and moved fast. Your lips brushed his jaw as you shifted lower, fangs descending silently, hunger clawing its way through your throat. But just as your mouth hovered over the thrum of his pulse, Rick’s hand shot up—quick, instinctive—gripping your wrist in a firm, unyielding hold.

You froze, every muscle taut, caught between hunger and caution. His breath hitched—shallow, sharp—but it was his eyes that unsettled you most: sharp, icy, and unreadable, like a hunter sizing up prey that might turn on him.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was low, steady—no fear, only a quiet warning that sent a thrill racing down your spine.

Your fangs hovered just behind parted lips, barely visible in the shadow of your teasing smile, trembling with restrained hunger.

“Trying to remember you,” you whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

Rick held your gaze, unblinking, for a long, heavy moment—time stretching thin between you. Then, slowly, deliberately, he released your wrist, his touch lingering. You didn’t bite him. Not yet. But the hunger pulsed stronger waiting, watching, promising it wouldn’t be long before restraint gave way to necessity.

[sadslay]

THAT RICK ONE WAS SO AHHHHHHH OBSESSED i’m also just a bit nosie so how’s the man you liked going? my gf and i just broke up so i NEED all the drama

omg babes we broke up aswell 😭

i hope your okay mama <3

[sadslay]

do you like it?

[sadslay]

rick grimes please :)

ofc 🫡

- BARTENDER ⋆☆ 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — pre-apocalypse / young(er?) rick grimes, not edited

You had just turned twenty-one and had just arrived in the big city of Atlanta. Your whole life you had grown up in Epworth, a small town nearing the state border of Georgia deep in the mountains and isolated from any big cities. You had finally saved up enough money after working every day since you were fifteen to move to the big city and study medicine on a scholarship. Within a month of moving, you had settled into your student living and already found a job working at a bar just off campus.

Most of your nights were spent working, serving, and making drinks for the regulars. Occasionally you’d see a few professors or people that would attend your classes, but for the most part it was strangers every night, each one more interesting than the last. Tonight was just like any other night. It started by serving your regulars before a group of young men, no doubt freshly 21 and celebrating their right to drink.

Their rowdiness gave you a headache, but you knew—and hoped—that they would tip well if you had played your cards right. The first one that walked in had a head of thick, slightly curled hair; he had a fresh cut on his nose accompanied by a nasty-looking bruise, mostly from some sort of altercation. The second one walked in and sat down at the bar, right in front of your work station.

“Well aint you a pretty thang.” He smirked, his southern drawl surprisingly thick in comparison to his outward appearance.

You raised your eyebrow, watching his two other friends sit down on either side of him and let out a little snicker at his attempts to charm you. “Can I get y’all somethin’?” you asked, trying to sweeten your voice.

“A number and a drink,” the young man smugly replied, his friends once again laughing at his attempts.

“I’m workin' honey; if yer want my number yer gonna have to wait til i get off.” You quipped, resting your hands on your hips before responding. “But I can get you a drink. What would yer like?”

“Budweiser, please,” he ordered, to your surprise respecting what you had said. Most guys would continue to pester you until you threatened to have them escorted out. “Is that alright?” he asked, pulling you from your train of thought.

You quickly nodded before asking, “anythin’ else?”

“Two more, please,” his friends added.

The rest of the night had gone by quickly. The normal bustle of the bar had quickly ramped up after the local football game had finished and everyone had come in to celebrate the home win. Halfway through your shift, you had lost sight of the guy and his two friends.

By the time your shift had ended, it was close to three in the morning. Your feet hurt and your back ached, but now all you wanted to do was eat some greasy food and go to bed. But as you slung your bag over your shoulder and locked up the bar, you noticed a familiar face waiting just outside.

“I can’t believe you waited.” You scoffed, locking the doors to the bar before throwing the keys into the bottom of your bag.

The man let out a weak laugh, standing upright from his slumped position. “Yes, ma’am,” he smirked, standing a few feet away from you.

A silence fell between you. It felt like you were the only two people in the world as he took in every inch of you. “Where are yer buddies?” you asked, your voice as soft as a whisper.

“They went home hours ago.” He shrugged. “You never told me your name.” He noted after a brief moment of silence that boyish smirk still plastered on his face.

“y/n.” you spoke sweetly, amused by his charm.

“Rick,” he copied, dipping his head slightly. “Look, I know it’s late, but can I take you out to eat? or for a drink?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he became nervous you’d decline his offer.

You shrugged, “I could go for a bite to eat.” You smiled, “There’s a Denny’s just down the block.” You suggested causing Rick's smile to grow.

“It’s on me.” Rick smirked, his devilish smile growing on you with every passing minute. Together you began walking in the direction of the nearby Denny's, comfortably close; you could almost feel his body heat. “You’re not a city girl, are yer?” he asked, looking down at you before returning his focus to the road.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, the quiet jingle of your bag and jewelry echoing through the quiet night. “You’re a city boy, aren’t ya?” You giggled, giving Rick a quick look up and down to see how we had dressed.

Rick laughed with you, finding your laugh contagious. “So what brings you out here y/n?” he asked, ignoring your question, but your mind was quickly distracted by the way your name rolled off his tongue.

“School,” you answered simply after a heartbeat of silence. “I’m on a mentorship with some of the head scientists at the Atlanta CDC.” You continued, trying not to explain yourself too much, as people typically got squeamish with the line of work you wanted to pursue.

“CDC?” Rick furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s that?” he asked, seeming genuinely curious about your field of study.

“Center for Disease Control and Prevention,” you explained. "Don't worry, I can't get you sick." You quickly added, causing Rick to erupt with laughter.

The glowing red and yellow light of Denny's finally came into view. You slipped into a corner booth at Denny’s just past midnight, the kind that creaked when you sat down and smelled like syrup and nostalgia. Rick sat across from you, and even though you’d only just met a few hours ago, it already felt too easy—like you'd done this a hundred times before in another life. You wrapped your hands around the cold milkshake he slid across the table, and when our fingers touched, something sparked. It was just a brush—barely anything—but it lingered, warm and electric, and you couldn’t help wondering if he felt it too.

You talked like we were trying to catch up on lost time. You told him about the worst date you’d ever been on, and he nearly snorted his drink, and then he told me about failing his driver’s test twice, and you laughed so hard you snorted. Every time you caught him looking at you, he didn’t look away. His eyes were so steady, like he was trying to memorize you—and God, it made your stomach twist in the best way. You kept reminding yourself that you didn’t know him, that this wasn’t supposed to mean anything. But it felt like something. Something real.

Outside, the air was cooler than you had expected, and without saying a word, Rick slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. Your chest ached a little at the gesture. You walked slowly, like neither of you wanted the night to end, your arms brushing until his fingers found yours and didn’t let go. You tried to act calm and casual, but every step closer to your apartment made your heart beat faster.

When you finally stopped outside your apartment building, the silence stretched between you and Rick—heavy and charged. He looked at you like he was trying to decide something, and you swore you stopped breathing. Despite just meeting, you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“I guess this is where we part ways.” Rick smiled sadly as the glow from the early morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon.

You smiled, your mind still buzzing with energy despite the extensive amount of time you had been awake for. “I suppose so.” You frowned, briefly peering behind you to look at the elevator that went up to your apartment. “Unless you wanted to come in for a drink?” you shyly suggested.

Rick's sad smile had turned into something of a devilish smirk. “It would be rude to say no.”

You both take the stairs to the second level, hearts racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the climb. There’s a quiet urgency in every step, in every glance stolen when you think he isn’t looking. Neither of you says much, but the silence between you is thick—charged with everything that’s been building all night. When you finally reach your door, your hands fumble with the keys just slightly, your pulse loud in your ears.

The door creaks open, and you step inside first, the familiar scent of your apartment grounding you just enough to stay upright. You lean back against the kitchen counter, pretending to be casual, but your breath is shallow, your fingers gripping the edge a little too tightly. Rick stands just inside, his eyes slowly sweeping the small space—your bookshelf, the throw blanket half-folded on your couch, the single mug on the sink. He takes it all in like it matters, like you matter.

Then he looks at you, and everything shifts. The space between you tightens. His eyes linger on your face, drop to your lips, then meet yours again—this time darker, heavier. Your stomach flips. You don’t move, don’t speak. You just hold his gaze, wondering if he feels the same pull, the same heat crawling up your spine. He takes a slow step toward you, then another, and you stay right where you are—waiting, wanting, daring him to close the space. And when he does, there’s no more pretending.

He closes the distance in two slow, deliberate steps, and before you can say a word, his hands are on either side of you, caging you in against the counter. His mouth finds yours like he’s been holding back all night, and the moment your lips meet, everything else blurs. His kiss is hungry—desperate—with a tension that’s been simmering since the moment you met. Your fingers grip his shirt, pulling him closer as his hands slide to your waist, anchoring you to him. The countertop digs into your back, but you don’t care; all you can focus on is the way his breath hitches when you press your body against his.

There’s a heat between you now, rising fast and wild, and when his lips move to your neck, you let out a soft sound that only makes him bolder. The kitchen fades away—walls, dishes, time—until there’s nothing but the feel of him, the taste of him, and the way he makes you forget everything but this.

His hands roam your sides with growing confidence, fingertips brushing beneath your shirt, leaving a trail of fire against your skin. You gasp softly against his mouth, and he pauses just long enough to meet your eyes—checking, asking without words. You nod, breathless, and that’s all he needs. His lips crash into yours again, rougher this time, like he’s been starving for you. You arch into him, your hands sliding beneath his shirt, feeling the taut muscles of his back, the heat of his skin under your palms.

He lifts you effortlessly, setting you on the counter like you weigh nothing, and your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, holding him there, keeping him close. The cool surface beneath you contrasts with the warmth radiating off his body as he presses himself between your thighs. Every movement is laced with need, every kiss deepens the ache already building low in your belly. You feel his breath stutter against your collarbone as he mutters your name—like a prayer, like a promise—his voice rough and low and barely holding it together.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as his mouth finds the curve of your jaw, your throat, and every inch of you feels claimed, worshipped. The world outside your kitchen might as well not exist. Here, it’s only him—his touch, his weight, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted.

His hands are all over you now—possessive, reverent—as if he’s still not convinced you’re real. Your breath catches when his lips graze the hollow of your throat, and you tilt your head to give him more, needing him like oxygen.

“God,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and low, “you drive me insane.”

You smile, dizzy from the heat curling in your belly, your fingers tugging gently at the hem of his shirt. “Then don’t stop,” you whisper, barely recognizing your own voice—soft, needy, trembling.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours, breathing hard. “Tell me if you want me to slow down,” he says, and there’s a hint of restraint in his voice that makes your heart clench.

You shake your head, lips brushing his. “I want all of you.”

His mouth crashes into yours again, and this time there’s no hesitation—just the wild, aching need you’ve both been trying to outrun.

a/n — this literally spawned into my little noggin during dinner time

[sadslay]

U write soon.?

im so so sorry i am very slowly getting to all my reqs but life has just been so god damn busy 😫

more coming soon bbg…

[sadslay]

Your daryl is so good!

omg thank you so much <3

[sadslay]

crazy how pedro puts everything into joel’s eyes.

like, his stare says it ALL.

pedro pascal, your emmy is coming

[sadslay]

lawd help me when this movie comes out

OH. He’s unbuttoning his shirt while kissing her.

[sadslay]

how goe liking the man?

https://www.tumblr.com/sadslay/755482022440501248/sorry-i-have-been-inactive-my-cunty-slay-queens-i?source=share

scary… lots of thinking and thoughts that im sure are not normal

[sadslay]

guyz i just found out my wattpad account is gone

some absolute masterpieces will be lost and i will never get to finish some fan fics that were literally written by the gods

[sadslay]

you ignore mt request, i hope you right soon my friend and i wait

im sorryy!! i am slolwly getting there, im having the shittest creative block <3

[sadslay]

the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object

[sadslay]

m0re daryl pleaase

- HALLOWEEN NIGHT ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings - not really any? its just hella short im so sorry it was meant to be published for halloween, and i planned on writing so much more but writers block has me in a chokehold 😔

brown and deep auburn leaves crunched beneath your feet as you snuck around to the back of the dixons home. it was a small cabin in a remote part of town, the walls were damaged after years of neglect and piles of junk and rusted motorbike parts surrounded the walls and surrounding land.

you had been a neighbour to the dixons for a few years now. william dixon and his two sons had moved in a few years prior after the death of his wife who died in a house fire. it took his sons, merle and daryl a few months to warm up but after a few failed attempts of merle trying to hit on you and the odd occasion you’d actually get a more then a few words out of daryl, the three of you have been inseparable since.

tonight was halloween night. you had rented some movies from the near by town and picked up some discounted candy before sneaking your way onto the dixon property. william dixon wasn’t all too fond of guests, especially when it was a young girl around his sons.

approaching the back of the cabin you swung your bag over your shoulder before stepping up onto a few chopped logged stacked up against the wall, you tapped on the window a few times before peering inside.

“dixon!” you whispered, finally catching his attention.

looking up from his box tv that looked like it belonged in the eighties, a smile flashed across his face as he stood up to open the small window. “you’re late.” he spoke softly, taking the tapes and candy from you.

pushing the plastic bag through the window you let out a sigh of frustration. “it would have been quicker if you or your idiot brother gave me a ride.” you mumbled, beginning to hoist yourself upwards through the small window.

“merle dicked off to some party.” daryl spat bitterly as he helped your through the window. “saw it as an opportunity.” he said raising his eyebrows before wandering back to the couch. daryl began to look through the bag of tapes and candy, pulling everything out one by one. “these are all horror movies.” he scoffed.

dropped down to sit beside daryl you let out a quiet laugh, taking the tapes from daryls hands. “it’s halloween dixon, its like the law to watch scary movies on halloween.”

“night of the living dead?” daryl chuckled, looking at back of the tape to read the movies description. “for reasons unknown, the recently deceased are,” he paused for a second to let out a laugh before continuing. “are raising from the grave as flesh-hungry zombies. fleeing from the undead horde- this sounds so stupid.” he laughed, passing the tape to you before looking through the mixture of candy.

“it’s not stupid!” you exclaimed, “its a classic.” you added, standing up to put the tape in the vcr.

“a classic?” daryl scoffed, opening a bag of chips. “ridiculous.” he mumbled.

you giggled, sitting back down beside daryl. “you’re ridiculous.” you quipped, grabbing the remote to turn up the volume.

leaning your head up against his shoulder as you took a small hand full of chips from the bag sitting on his lap. as the opening credits of the film began to play, you and daryl settled in for the night.

around you the room slowly grew dark as the sun set beyond the georgian mountains. the soft glow of the television was enough for you to see the soft outlines of daryls face as he tentatively watched the movie.

“yer payin’ attention to the movie?” daryl huffed, not taking his eyes off the screen.

you sat up, letting out a soft giggle looking at daryl as he finally pulled his eyes away from the screen.

“you got eyes in the side of ya head or somethin’?” you asked, causing a smile to creep onto daryls lips. you were met with a scoff causing you to roll your eyes. “i was just makin’ sure you were watchin’ the movie.” you informed him, lying through your teeth.

daryl had been a long time crush that had been slowly, and deeply festering since you’d first met him. it was something unrecognizable at first, your heart would skip a beat or your cheeks would flush a deep shade of pink and slowly it turned into flirty comments from one another to lingering touches. but something you didn’t quite realize yet, was that daryl had been yearning for you.

every waking moment of his day you were always on his mind. if he wasn’t with you, he’d be thinking about you, thinking about what the two of you could be if he had the balls to make you his own. in fact, daryl had been thinking of halloween night for weeks. he had been subtly hinting to merle about a party in town and when he finally took the bait, daryl knew that he had to do something. tonight was the night.

the stillness in the room was palpable. the film slowly drifted into the background and all you could focus on, was daryls face under the soft moon light peaking through the dirty cabin windows. you both slowly leaned in toward each other. daryl could smell the strawberry shampoo you use, and it drove him near insanity. he had longed to touch, and hold you for so long and now you were finally close enough for it to happen, and he wouldn’t back out this time!

[sadslay]

i wish i was a nepo baby but no i'm a girl writing about a fucking pixel