Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead. All characters are property of the creators of the television show and graphic novels.

Author's Note: Before you read, keep in mind that this is Carick to start with Caryl as endgame. Just keep that in mind. It will be peppered with sexual situations between Carol and Rick and Carol and Daryl.

Reckless

Chapter 1: Still Mine

There it was. The big, tan water stain above the four post bed. It had started as a small spot over a year ago, and slowly, over time, it had turned into an ugly eyesore and the first thing she'd woken up to almost every morning since. No matter how many times she'd asked him to do something about it or call someone to do something for him, he still hadn't gotten that goddamn thing fixed. She was surprised the ceiling hadn't caved in already.

The squeal of the shower door brought reality crashing into her in half a second. She sat up, pulling the sheet up around her chest, and she watched as he came walking back into the room with a little swagger in his step. He hadn't even bothered with putting a towel around his waist. His hair dripped water down his muscular back, and she suddenly remembered why she'd ended up back in his bed.

"Shower's free," he grunted, bending over to pick his clothes up off the floor.

"Thanks, but I'll shower at home."

"Carol."

"I'm good. Really. I need to get home." She gathered the sheet around herself and got up off the bed. He stared at her for a minute, an amused smirk pulling at his lips. "Don't look at me like that."

"We're gonna do this again?" he asked. Carol turned her back on him and started kicking her discarded clothes across the floor and into the steam-filled bathroom he'd just walked out of. "Why don't you just admit you wanna come home?"

"I have a home," she bit out. "This was a mistake." He crossed the room then, reaching for her hand. The sheet fell from her body, and he pulled her into his arms. She gasped at the feel of his warm, wet skin against hers, and her stomach twisted into knots.

"Third mistake we made this week," he chuckled. She sighed, and while she knew she should protest, the familiar feel of his arms around her, the smell of his favorite soap on his skin, and the way he was looking at her with those eyes that always had a way to turn her knees to jelly was more overpowering that her desire to push him away and go home. He kissed her then, and she moaned against his lips, pulling her arms around his neck and giving into him like old times.

But as he started walking her back toward the bed, she came to her senses, and her eyes flew open. She pushed back against his shoulders.

"Stop. Stop. We're not doing this."

"We already did it, sweetheart. We did a lot of things." Carol groaned and pulled out of his embrace. She glared at him and bent down to scoop her clothes up. "Honey, c'mon. How many times do I have to ask you to come home?"

"How many times do I have to tell you I won't? You're not my husband anymore, Rick. This is done. This is…it's your fault. That's what it is."

"Oh really?" He choked out a laugh. "I suppose I made you drive all the way over here and jump in bed with me." Carol flinched. "You miss me."

"I don't."

"Then why do we keep ending up right here? Huh? You say you don't miss me, you come here to argue about the divorce or custody or whatever else gets you all riled up, and then we end up right back here between the sheets doing what we do best." Carol sighed and looked away, and Rick sat down on the edge of the bed, his cock twitching with interest when Carol took a step in his direction. "There's a reason you still come to me when you have an itch to scratch. You know it's good. You know we're good."

She put her hands on his shoulder, and his hands moved up her bare thighs and over her hips. He leaned forward, pressing his face against her stomach and breathing in.

"Fuck, you smell so good." Her knees shook then, and she closed her eyes as his hand slid between her thighs, stroking her and finding her already soaking wet for him. "So damn good." She bit her lip then, and she gently pushed back on his shoulders. He looked up at her.

"This is the last time," she murmured, eyes locking on his.

"You say that every time," he pointed out.

"I mean it every time," she bit out. Rick slid back on the bed a little, and she crawled over him, her breasts swaying against his chest as she dipped her tongue into his mouth. He groaned, gripping the back of her neck gently as her hand moved to curl around his cock.

"Fuck, Carol," he panted between kisses. She straddled his hips then, pumping his cock a few times until he was hard against her palm. And then she slowly slid down, taking him in and throwing her head back as he filled her. She cried out softly and dug her nails into his shoulders. His hands moved up her hip, gripping her firmly there as she started to ride him.

He looked up at her, watching the way her nipples turned to little pebbles, and he couldn't resist pulling himself up to suck one of the little buds between his lips. He gave it a little tug with his teeth and soothed over the bite with his tongue. She cried out then, and he flipped her over onto her back. She reached for him. He pulled out of her, kissing down her neck and between her breasts, and he cried out in frustration as her walls pulsed around nothing.

"Rick," she bit out. "Fuck." She arched back as his tongue swirled around her belly button, and she reached down to tug at his hair. He looked up then, grinning at her as he kissed lower, and she glared at him.

"Tell me what you want."

"Fuck me."

"You don't want…"

"Rick!" she cried out. He grinned then, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh before crawling back up and kissing her hungrily. Her hands moved down his shoulders, and she cried out again when he slid back inside in one swift motion. He bent down, peppering kisses to her neck as her nails dug into his ass. He nipped at her earlobe, and her walls squeezed around him.

"You always come back to this," he growled, pulling back and thrusting in deep again. She whimpered, and he pulled out a little. "You and me." He thrust in harder, and her toes curled. "You feel so fucking good. So hot. Fucking tight. Wet for me. You're always wet for me."

"Yes," she panted. "Rick, fuck me." She sunk her teeth into his shoulder, and he thrust into her again.

"Still mine?" he asked, bringing his hand down between them, stroking her as he pulled out of her. She bit her lip, and he slid two fingers into her, pumping them inside as she writhed beneath him on the sheets. "Still mine?"

"Fuck," she panted. "Rick…" She threw her head back against the pillow, and Rick claimed her lips in a kiss.

"Tell me," he groaned. "C'mon, baby. Tell me." She tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth, and he grinned, inserting a third finger and stroking her as her walls fluttered around him, all silky smooth and warm.

Her hands came up, burying in his hair, and she kissed him hungrily, wrapping her legs around his waist, rocking her hips against his hand as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. In moments, she was in spasm around his fingers, clenching and soaking him as her head fell back against the pillow again.

"Tell me," he growled, kissing the hollow of her throat.

"Fuck me," she bit out.

"Tell me," he whispered, kissing between her breasts as he brought his hands to her thighs, spreading her out beneath him.

"Rick…"

"Still mine?" She bit her lip and nodded then, as he came forward and pressed his nose against her curls.

"You gotta speak up."

"Yes," she gasped.

"Yes what?" he asked, spreading her folds and dipping his tongue inside as her thighs clenched around his head.

"Fuck!" she cried out. "Rick! Yes!" She gripped the bed sheets and rocked her pelvis against him. The stubble on his chin was rough against her thighs, and she was positively dripping for him.

"Tell me, baby," he murmured, thrusting two fingers inside of her as he teased her clit with his tongue.

"Still yours," she panted. "Fuck. Rick, just fuck me." He grinned then, using his fingers and tongue to make her come again before crawling back up her body and pulling her leg around his hip. He thrust into her, hard and fast, and when Carol tensed beneath him and buried her face against his neck, he knew she was close. He thrust harder and faster until he couldn't hold on any longer. He let go but reached between her legs to stroke her clit and push her over the edge once again. When the tension melted out of them both, Rick rested his forehead against her shoulder before rolling off of her.

Carol stared wide-eyed at the ceiling above them, at that fucking water stain that irritated her very soul. And then she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes before running her fingers through her hair.

"Hey." She turned her head to look at him. He was on his side, head propped in his hand. "Stay tonight."

"You know I can't." He leaned in then, pressing his lips to hers, and she sighed, giving in to his kiss. She rubbed her hand up his arm, gently squeezing his bicep until he pulled back from the kiss. "We have to stop doing this." She sat up in the bed, and Rick sat up behind her.

"I know," he said quietly, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades. "But it's nights like this it feels like old times again."

"It's not like old times." She turned and put her hand against his cheek. "It's never going to be like old times." She got out of bed and started for the bathroom. She decided to take a shower after all, but when Rick stepped up behind her in front of the mirror, kissing her neck and gently running his hand over her breast before dipping between her legs, she gasped.

"Is it just…me…" Rick breathed against her neck, "or is it better now?"

"Hmm?" she asked, closing her eyes and leaning back against his chest as he teased her throbbing core with his fingers.

"It's better now. Better than it ever was."

"Fuck," she panted, relaxing against him, heading rolling forward.

"Sex was never this good when we were married."

"No," she panted. "It wasn't." She moaned then, and Rick stopped touching her. She whimpered at the loss of his touch, and she turned to face him. He grinned then, and she pushed against his chest, walking him backward toward the shower.

She shut the shower door behind them and pressed him back against the shower wall, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him hungrily. He chuckled against her mouth, and she pulled back.

"Maybe divorce was for the best after all."

"Shut up," she panted against his mouth. He threaded his fingers through the back of her short, dark hair, and she broke the kiss long enough to kiss his throat and place a tender bite to his Adams apple.

"Make me," he grinned. And she did.

...

Carol locked the car and leaned against it for a moment, taking in a long, slow breath before she looked up at the house she now called her home. She'd moved in just under a year ago. The divorce hadn't been finalized long after that.

She could still remember the day they gave up. She remembered the pain and then the hollow numbness that followed when she realized her marriage was over.

It had started out as little arguments. Stupid, silly arguments just every once in a while. And then it was the little things. The irritating things that neither of them could let slide, the financial burden of starting a family, the constant presence of the other. Then the big fights started. They always started over silly things that were of no importance but always turned out to be about something bigger entirely.

It got to the point where making the marriage work was exhausting. First it was couples counseling. Then it was planning little date nights, just the two of them. Then it was actively trying to talk things out. And when one felt they were making progress, the other felt they were failing. It all circled back around and around, and the arguments got worse until that last night.

The last night, Carol told Rick she couldn't remember what it felt like to love him. The last night, Rick told Carol he almost had an affair. Almost. And they had cried and held each other and decided that what used to be a loving marriage had crumbled into something unrecognizable. While Carol still loved Rick, it wasn't the kind of love it had been when she'd fallen for him. It wasn't the kind of love it had been when she married him. It wasn't the kind of love it had been when they started their family. And for Rick, he had never felt tempted, never felt desperate enough to look outside of his marriage for a connection. When he'd been tempted, he knew something had gone wrong.

The next morning, Carol filed for divorce and started looking for a new place to live. It was decided that their five-year-old daughter Sophia would stay with Carol, though she went to her dad's on the weekend. Rick had Carl, his ten-year-old son from a previous relationship that Sophia was very close to, and he also spent the weekends with his dad, so it worked out great.

But every time Carol and Rick would get together to talk about the terms of their divorce or the custody agreement, they would argue, and then they'd fuck and then she'd go home hating herself a little more for letting herself be so foolish. The problem was that it felt so easy with Rick. It felt easier now than it had before the divorce. It was better now, more passionate, more erotic. But the problem was, Carol knew, Rick was getting attached, and now he wanted her to come home, and she knew that was the biggest mistake they could make. The last thing she wanted to do was put Sophia in the middle of it all and drag her through that again. It was bad enough the first time.

Still, there was something about sex with an ex that felt wrong and sexy all at the same time, and it was also a great distraction from the process of moving on, which she knew she should be doing. The idea of putting herself back out there and going through it all over again was terrifying, especially when her only experience at married life had ended in flames. She was thirty, and she was supposed to just start all over again? It was terrifying.

She took a deep breath and checked her watch. It was ten thirty. Sophia would be asleep. She started up the steps to the house when the screen door from the house next door slammed open and shut. Carol gasped, and her hand flew to her chest. The porch light turned on, and a man came stepping out with a cigarette in his hand.

"Didn't mean to scare ya," he said quietly.

"It's ok," she said quietly. "I didn't know anybody was living here."

"Just moved in this afternoon," he said with a nod, peering at her in the darkness. Carol stepped up onto her front porch and moved over to the side rail to get a better look at her new neighbor.

"Oh. Well, welcome to the neighborhood," she offered with a little smile.

"Anything I should know about the place?"

"Mmm, sorry. I've only been here about six months myself." The man nodded and took a long drag on his cigarette. He looked down and scuffed the toe of his boot against the porch floor. "I, uh, my name's Carol Gri—Mason. I'm Carol Mason."

"Daryl Dixon," he said with a nod.

"It's nice to meet you," she said tiredly.

"Likewise," he nodded. The screen door behind him opened again, and a beautiful woman with dark hair came stepping out wearing what looked like a man's button down shirt and not much else. Her hair was messy, and it was pretty obvious what they'd been doing.

"Oh, hi," the woman said with a little laugh. "You must be the neighbor."

"I'm Carol," Carol said with a smile.

"I'm Lucy Morgan. I see you've already met Daryl."

"Yeah. It's nice to meet you both," Carol said with a little smile and a wave. "I have to get going, pay the babysitter."

"Oh, sure. Nice to meet you, Carol," Lucy smiled, linking her arm with Daryl's and giving him a little tug toward the door. He stumbled briefly and tossed his cigarette into the bushes down below. "C'mon, babe. Let's go back in." Daryl followed her back in, but not before chancing one last glance at his new neighbor. She gave him a little wave before letting herself into her own house.

Rosita Espinosa was curled up on the couch with her phone in her hand and a silly smile on her face. The second she saw Carol, she sat up and put her phone away.

"How was she?"

"Great," Rosita said with a bright smile. "She fell asleep after one story, and I got all of my homework done."

"I appreciate you watching her."

"Anytime, Mrs. G…I mean, Carol," Rosita said with a sheepish smile. "You're single handedly financing this semester anyway. Thanks for thinking of me."

"Sophia loves you, and you're great with her. Are you free from three to six tomorrow? I have to work over."

"Absolutely."

"Great. Thank you." Carol pulled a fifty out of her purse and handed it to Rosita. She saw her out and locked the door before heading upstairs to shower a little more thoroughly than she had at Rick's place. By the time she was crawling under the covers, it was a quarter after eleven, and every muscle in her body ached in a very good way.

She sighed and rolled onto her stomach, burying her face against the cool side of the pillow. She let out a slow breath and turned her face toward the window. She reached out and touched the empty side of her bed, gently picking at a loose thread on the quilt. She still wasn't used to sleeping alone, but it beat going to sleep exhausted from crying and arguing. It beat waking up in the morning with a headache and wondering what the next argument would be about.

She hated that she ached for him, but with him it was so simple. It was good. It was great, even. She still craved him, but it was different now. She certainly didn't love him. And she honestly didn't know if she was capable of falling in love again. Worse yet, what if she could fall in love again? That was even more terrifying. The last thing she wanted was to go through it all over again just to end up right where she was, sleeping alive, confused and dealing with her life in ways that were definitely not constructive.

She turned to face the wall and closed her eyes and hoped for sleep to take her under. All she could do was hope. All she could do was tell herself everything would be alright until it actually was.

Author's Note: I know this is very different than what I usually write. Please let me know what you think! Thanks!