#possessive!rick

[itsgrimeytime]

show me || Rick Grimes (TWD)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

dialogue prompts: “Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” (2) + “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same as I do, then I’ll leave you alone.”  (36) + “I’m tired of being on the sidelines.”  (43)

Summary: You and Rick had something, you weren't quite sure what it was. After a few drunken mistakes during one of the dinner parties at Alexandria, Rick wants to make things crystal clear.

TWS: TENSION, blood, gore, gun violence (violence in general), alcohol, drunkness, drunken kisses, kind of dark!Rick, jealousy, possessiveness, protectiveness, all things consistent with TWD.

[[A/N: The vibes are in with this one, girlies. Kind of listened to Boyfriend by Dove Cameron for this one. SO... Be ready for that. Thanks for reading!!! ]]

Your head hurt after the night before, you couldn't quite remember why. Well, other than the drinks.

It had been the first dinner party after Alexandria, you were nervous and just kept sipping. Somebody kept giving you more, even though, you remember distinctly Rick (big hands and blue, blue eyes) warding them off. They continued when he wasn't by your side -beer after beer and maybe something... else? You couldn't really remember.

You gathered pretty quickly that Rick was mad at you that day, something about the way he composed himself -the steaming rage enveloping him, and it only continued for days.

Day after day, and nothing. Usually, you could read him like a book, but now, all you got was well, that he was mad at you. Not even to get you started on the way everyone else was distinctively ignoring your questions like Rick had told them to.

So, you stepped out of your comfort zone -you went straight to the most honest Alexandrian you knew. Or the one who would speak to you over Rick's head -Deanna.

There was something deep in your chest that told you somehow this was betrayal, but you had been driven far past that point. (One blue-eyed glare and complete head turn to ignore you past that point.)

"Hey," you spoke, a little uneasy.

"Hello, Y/N!" she smiled, big and bright, "-I'm glad to see that dinner has been going so well-"

"That's actually what I was here to talk to you about," you echoed, direct in your tone, "-last dinner party, I... I don't remember what happened."

"Nothing bad, I can assure you," she hummed, continuing to walk down the street, "-I'm well aware of anyone overstepping."

"Right, well, I'm glad, but-" you spoke, a little impatiently -eyes darting around, "-I don't remember."

"Nothing wrong with getting a little drunk," she spoke, something in her shifting, "-we understand the change is-"

"Deanna," you interrupted with finality, "-please, just tell me what happened."

She paused in her steps, turning around to fully face you -head on, and something in you shrunk at her inquisitive gaze. She looked at you a bit like a puzzle for a moment, before her eyes seemed to light up in understanding like she knew exactly what the issue was.

"Let's..." she began, slowly, "-Let's talk inside, shall we?"

You merely followed her up the steps and into her house, like a sheep to its shepherd -you were desperate. If she could help, you would just about do anything.

"I was wondering just what was with him," Deanna muttered to herself, "-makes so much sense now."

She led you to her living room, where the room was much the same in her own home, but she had photos -framed and set pristinely of faces you didn't quite know. Ones you doubted you ever would.

"Sit," she motioned, "-we have much to discuss."

"Much?" you questioned.

"Well, no, it's-" she started, but faltered for a moment, "-rather complicated."

"Complicated?" you questioned further, raising your voice.

"Look, I'm going to just tell you to avoid any further confusion. You kissed someone, can't remember who now-"

You paused, faltering for a minute, "That's it?"

"Rick saw," she finished as if it was some big reveal.

You and Rick had a thing, a very slight thing that neither of you had really even commented on or talked about. Hell, you hadn't even kissed the guy, but there was something there, a deep buzz under your skin. And something in the apocalypse was something, sure, but not if he didn't talk to you about it. Not if he-

You stopped your train of thought, "So?"

"Aren't you-" she seemed to pause, being taken off guard, "-Aren't the two of you together?"

"I'm sorry?" you asked, "-No, we're not... not really. He doesn't- It doesn't matter, drunkenly kissing a guy is no reason to get this pissy."

"It is if you're together."

"Deanna," you started, "-don't push your luck. Look, I have to go sort this out, do you-"

"Oh, no, please," she answered, quickly, "-I can't get a word in with the man right now. Fix it, go."

That's how you wound up here, ready at his door -he couldn't ignore you at his own home. You'd get him to listen.

"Rick," you addressed, direct as soon as the door opened and you saw the blue of his eyes, "-hey."

He seemed to still at your voice -frozen for a moment, before wordlessly moving around the kitchen. He was gathering up dishes, at a sure pace before, but now he'd begun much faster. As if he was trying to get away from you.

"Alright, enough-" you said, waltzing up to him, and turning his face to yours, "-why are you mad?"

Rick looked at you for a moment, and something in you almost grew shy at the attentiveness. Blue eyes dashing along your face like you were fresh water and he had been stranded in the desert.

And then, he stopped. Lifting his soapy hands to take yours off his face -a slow, gentle movement. The opposite of someone mad, you noted.

"Do we need to talk 'bout this?" He echoed, a little helplessly if you were honest.

"I don't know," you answered, "-you tell me. Can you not be mad if we don't talk about this?"

"I'm not," he sighed, turning back to the dishes -this time doing them leisurely, "-I'm not mad. I just..."

"You just what?" You asked, pointedly.

"I just think you can choose better people to kiss," he grumbled out so low you weren't even sure you'd heard him correctly.

But something in you fired off like a rocket.

"Seriously?!" You yelled out, a sort of toned frustrated yell, but still a yell, "-you are pissed because you don't approve?"

"That's not-"

"Well, I got good news for ya, Sheriff, I don't even remember who I kissed last night-"

"That's because he made ya so drunk-"

"-And on top of that, I can kiss who I want, when I want. It's not like you have any control over that-"

"I want to," he grumbled out, even lower.

You stilled, "I'm sorry...?"

He didn't speak for a moment, washing the soap off his hands -you watched the water trail down to his elbow. Scrubbing away at the dish towel, he dried them and turned to face you.

Rick's steps were slow and sure, you could hear the clink of the tile under his boot. And your heart started pounding with anticipation, maybe he was mad. Why was he getting so close-

He was just in front of you now, finger trailed under your chin, "Tell me to stop, if you don't want this."

You turned your head down to look at the tile, something in your breath catching that you could barely breathe. You just needed a second-

He flicked your eyes back to him, and you could feel his breaths on your lips, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel the same as I do, then I'll leave you alone."

"Rick-"

He raised an eyebrow, "I asked a question, Y/N."

"How do you feel?"

He roamed closer, eyes dashing between the two of yours and your lips, "I think you know, sweetheart."

You opened your mouth.

"But," he interrupted, "-if ya insist."

Rick pulled back slightly, hand leaving its trail to, instead, hold your wrists -gently, as his thumbs rubbed into your wrists. With another breath, he kissed your palms -pressing his lips there ever so slightly.

"I'm tired of being on the sidelines," he spoke, low and soft, "-I... I want it to be us. Together."

"Together?" You echoed.

"Like you stay in my house, you sleep in my bed, we go to dinners together instead of so... so far apart-"

"And you can tell me who to kiss?" You added, playfully.

"And I'm the only one you can kiss," he corrected with the smallest of grins, but there was something hard in his eyes. Something serious.

"So," you spoke, expectantly, "-kiss me then. So, I can see what I'm stuck with."

"Stuck?" He laughed, slowly leaning in, "-Oh darlin' you're gonna be far from stuck."

[newathens]

and you expect me not to be insane about them?

[hot-gremlin-pissboy]

Another cursed image be upon ye

[horse-surgeon-barbie]

if no one else got me, I know the Rick and Morty Character Guide (2020) got me

[londonknights]

you know he had to do it to em

[pondhue]

thinking about him

[ademotorcycle]

Drops this on the floor and runs away... @potetosaradas

I also made a stupid little playlist, it’s not particularly original or good, just a bunch of songs that reminded me of them

[slavhew]

Hello!

If you're not too busy, would you mind listing some of the things you think count as death flags for Mr. Spender?

There's the obvious fact that he's the "old" mentor to group of young protagonists, but what else do you think would count?

OHH BOY ok so I'd think I'm a crackpot for this but since we're talking about Zack "Foreshadowing" Morrison. I have some thoughts

No harm in leading with the (chronologically) first thing that jumped out at me:

This one IMMEDIATELY made me antsy whenever I came back to it after my initial read, and considering Zack has referred to it on twitter in the past as one of their favorite jokes it's definitely not been forgotten about.

Second, the sheer amounts of near-misses, jokey or not, of Spender narrowly avoiding specifically lightning

Again, not much, but it's weird that it happened thrice, latter two of which had real gravitas rather than an one-off joke.

And third, Spender himself. He's repeatedly shown himself to be kind of a self sacrificing idiot, as well as prideful to a fault. Granted, it's both him and Mina trying to take on all the responsibility of saving Mayview and its inhabitants from their fate.. But Spender is exactly that right measure of doesn't-value-himself-enough (chest footprint aftercare or lack thereof), having an obscene amount of power (enables his loner act + pride) and poor judgement that has the capacity to put him at great risk. And it has!

Spender has not only shown low enough self-esteem to view himself as the de-facto scapegoat for the safety of the town, but also prideful enough to make very bad calls that end up in people, often himself, hurt (COUGH FORGE INCIDENT COUGH)

This is all conjecture, but it's definitely enough to make me worried about him :') Even if all this doesn't mean he'll necessarily die he's definitely getting (even more) seriously injured at some point. I love the guy but he's so far doing a horrible job of convincing me he wants to live bad enough to circumvent at least that

[vilentia]

Jealous and possessive Rick Grimes

Rick's past with Lori and fear of losing you can make him possessive and jealous when other guys flirt with you.

You and Rick have been in a relationship for several months, and things have been going well.

Rick has a past with Lori, which makes him somewhat possessive and jealous when it comes to you.

You don't usually notice when someone is flirting with you, so you don't realize what's happening when another guy starts talking to you.

Rick is immediately on guard, and he makes it clear to the other guy that you're his girlfriend.

You get a little annoyed by Rick's possessiveness and try to calm him down, but he's already worked up.

Rick's fear of losing you is a big factor in his jealousy, and he can get pretty intense when he thinks someone is trying to take you away from him.

You try to be patient with Rick and help him work through his issues, but it's not always easy.

You've had conversations with Rick about his past with Lori and how it's affecting his relationship with you.

You've also made it clear that you're not interested in anyone else and that Rick is the only one for you.

Despite the arguments, you and Rick have a strong connection, and you love each other deeply.

You try to remind Rick that you're not Lori and that he needs to trust you.

Rick struggles with his jealousy and possessiveness, but he's working on it.

You've talked about setting boundaries and how to deal with situations like this in the future.

You've also made it clear that you won't tolerate any disrespectful behavior from Rick or anyone else.

In the end, you and Rick always manage to work through your issues and come out stronger on the other side.

[invisiblegarabgetruck]

tw : blood and a lil bit of gore

💣🗡️💣🗡️💣🗡️

I'm obsessed w/ them rn (oh no)

also alt ver for the first pic (i forget hermit jerry cape)

[pinkandblueblurbs]

it has been too long since i wrote abt spitting during sex….. i am now pondering whether spitting in your mouth is more of a rick or daryl thing

[itsgrimeytime]

Don't Let Me In (with no intention to keep me) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Based on the song: 'It Will Come Back' by Hozier

Available on AO3

Summary: That day, your camp was raided. Gunfire and hostages, so many of you were lucky to be alive. After Rick and a few others gained control of the situation, you realize you were hurt. It was just a few scratches, there were others with worse. Rick highly disagreed.

TWS: TENSION (both kinds), blood, gore, gun violence (violence in general), being held at gunpoint, implied murder, death, revenge, murder jacket!Rick, kind of dark!Rick, possessiveness, protectiveness, all things consistent with TWD.

[[A/N: KIND OF SPICY, but not really??? It's hard to explain. This is really just the 'who hurt you' trope between you and Rick with nothing left to lose. Needed this kinda vibe after all the fluff recently. For bestie @murder-jacket !!! Enjoy :)) ]]

Your head was spinning, and it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Rick and a few others had gone off on a supply run -resources were whittling down and the group needed more. But of course, the one time most of the weapons are gone is when a group decided to swarm. It wasn't exactly like you were empty-handed, but without some of your best shooters... you were almost desolate.

You held onto Carl like it was the last thing you'd ever do, squeezing his shirt so tight in your fingers the fabric was morphing into a shape. In a distant part of your mind, you knew you were muttering to him -promises that everything would be fine, that they'd be back before he even knew it.

And then, one of the men turned to you.

"So," he spoke, waltzing up a slow pace towards the two of you, "-you're the sweetheart, huh?"

You stiffened, hesitating wrapping your fingers around Carl -you could probably just push him away... keep him safe. At the thought, Carl stood against you tighter -protective even, but you wouldn't let him do anything stupid.

"Quite a beaut," the man spoke, trailing the tip of his gun to under your chin and tilting up your face to match his, "-aren't ya?"

"Look," you spoke, voice steady and calm (you'd been through much much worse), "-just leave him alone and I'll-"

"What?" He pushed, tone drenched in frustration, pushing the tip of the gun into your neck, "Do whatever I say? Surprisingly, I think we've got that covered."

The distant sound of gunshots echoed then, it was far from you -he had singled you two out. (Someone had luckily hidden with Judith, Carol had subtly told you before they separated you.)

You froze, trying to see by some grace if you could hear anything -was it your people? Or was it them? Were they dying? That was until you saw the look on the unnamed man's face.

His face was twisted in confusion, spun to meet the sounds -he was not aware of those shots. You could tell, and a tiny part of you hoped for Rick to have returned early.

He cleared his throat, turning towards the two of you -Carl still attached at your hip, "Leave the kid, you, come with me."

"That's not happening," you gritted through your teeth, hand tightening on Carl.

You couldn't protect him if he wasn't by you, you hadn't known what they wanted to do or why they were even here. Carl was not safe with you, but he was even less safe when he was alone. You wouldn't let him leave your side. You couldn't.

"Heroic, really," he tsked, seeming to regain his confidence -dragging the gun along your jaw to your temple, "-but I don't think I gave you a choice."

And then, there was movement behind him. You couldn't properly see what or who it was, but Carl -who was held tightly by your side, loosened. Relaxed, even.

That was... good. Maybe it was someone you knew.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The low drawl was gravelly, a tone he'd only found in anger -Rick. Even just his voice helped your breaths calm, the cool metal stark against your skin. You still stood as still as a statue, you'd give him no reason to shoot -no sudden movements.

"Well, look here-" the man exhaled, "-if it ain't the man of the hour."

"I don't think you heard me," Rick echoed and you could barely see him, but you saw a shadow of the movement -the click of a gun.

On instinct, your breath hitched -heavy in your chest, you realized then that you hadn't wanted to die. It was a terrifying thought, then, as the metal dipped into your skin; it was surely something to realize then.

"Frankly, I don't think you have the power here, Rick," the man spoke, not moving the gun from your skin and adjusting you to face Rick and Carl now, who had thankfully been ushered to his side.

You were looking at him now, eyes placed so delicately on his form and there was a steely gaze there -matched only by the man who held you in place. His jaw, covered in the beard he'd so recently grown, was set, pinched in the way it always was when he was in a situation he didn't want to be in. His jacket, once pristine, was now stained on the white with an ominous red, and part of you, without thinking, scanned him over at the mere thought that the blood might be his.

Rick's gaze flicked to you, just for a few seconds -looking for injuries, maybe, just like you were. There was a softness as he did so, the blue gaze affectionate and careful -they stuttered at your scraped forearms, jaw clenched and eyes determined. It didn't seem too bad, just stung against the cool breeze of the night -you doubted it was even bleeding.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" he began in response, tone aggressive in a demanding sort of way, "-did you call those gunshots earlier? Was that part of your master plan?"

The man quietened, and you could only imagine his face. Rick was angry, and in some twisted way, you were delighted he was this angry over you.

"Because, if I'm remembering correctly," he was stepping closer now, slow steady steps -his tone light, but there was something heavy there, something furious, "-that was my call."

The man was silent for a second, and you felt the coolness of the metal falter -he readjusted it, pushing farther into your skin. You hissed at the pressure, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rick still at the noise.

His eyes gleamed, flickering over you -trying to convey something to you (a safety) and then straying to your neck.

"You wouldn't," the man finally spoke, but there was no nerve behind it -he was scared. And as your eyes fluttered upon Rick, who looked just a bit like a man with nothing to lose, you wondered if you would be too.

He didn't give him the dignity of a response, trailing on, "I mean, don't you think they woulda come to you by now?"

That was when the man moved, faltering against you -he was shaking, and you could feel it. The cool metal was no longer directly against your skin but distant, the deep breaths now heavy in your ear -he was panicking.

"Look, you-" he straightened, trying to gain some sense of control then and pointedly looking at Rick, "-you let me go. Nothing happens to 'em."

He remained calm, or still, you guessed you should say, there was nothing behind those eyes that was calm. They were a heavy sort of gaze, intense and direct -if looks could kill, this man would be on his knees.

"What did ya say earlier?" he hummed, stepping even closer now, the crunch of the grass under his boots the only noise other than the heave of breaths. Rick was agonizing, steps deliberate, and the tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate you.

And then he was a breath away from the man, pistol up and located square in his forehead, "Frankly, I don't think you have the power here."

Maybe if it was another day or another person, Rick would've hesitated.

On this day with you there, he didn't.

It was quick, at least, your ear ringing and the side of your face covered in a sort of sludge you really didn't want to think about. And Rick was unflinching, at the blood that now smeared across his face -eyes set in a sort of stare that you'd recognized maybe once before.

Carl was the first to move, rushing to you, "You okay?"

You coughed, the adrenaline leaving a sort of dizziness in its wake and your stomach swirling with a kind of dread at what had happened mere feet from you, "I'm fine, I-I swear. Just a little shaken up."

Rick was close behind, without much thought ripping the hems of his shirt off -wordlessly, before taking his hands (that had just killed a man) and so delicately wrapping the cloth around your forearms. Bloodstained fingers pushing gently into your skin like you could break like you were something so precious.

"You don't need to-"

His eyes leveled at you, usually so fuzzily affectionate, now a sort of steely gaze -unmoving and intense. There was something there you hadn't seen from him before, protective to an extent you'd never seen. It wasn't like when he shoved you behind him when a gun was pulled, this was more instinctive.

"Carl, go get some water-" he was condensed in his speech, tone gruff but not necessarily rude -it was more direct in a brash way.

You remained still, watching simply as his hands circled around the scrapes -eyes focused on the motion, he hardly seemed to notice your gaze. It was a curious one, after such a clash in your head -how could he still be so gentle, after-

Carl was quick, a little canteen he kept on his hip filled with, what you assumed, was river water. The camp had been too far for anything else -especially with the speed unless it had been longer than you thought. The bandaging was methodical and with your head in such a state, you wouldn't be surprised.

Without so much as a word, Rick tugged another scrap shoved away in a pocket and wet it, "Thank you. You go check on the others for me?"

Carl hesitated for no more than a second, before heading back the way he'd just come.

Something in you flipped at the idea of you and Rick alone here suddenly -not quite unsettled or scared. It was more anticipation, as the air fizzled with a sort of spark you hadn't thought possible in the apocalypse. Or maybe ever.

Rick was unfazed, raising the makeshift rag to wipe your cheek -his calloused fingertips leaving a sort of trail across your skin. And your head still stayed in that sort of fuzzy spin that it was, a bit more affectionate than the one before. The metallic and somehow woodsy smell grounded you back to where you were, you leaned into his touch -just slightly.

"There ya are, sweetheart," he whispered, smiling in a small sort of way -fingertips trailing over your eyebrow, "-with me now?"

You only nodded, a bit too speechless at a touch so tender after something so... violent.

"Words," he clarified, blue eyes set into yours.

"Yes," you spoke, your throat scratchy and eyes dry, "-yes, I'm here."

Before he could say anything, you gently took the rag from his hand -rewetting it with the ease of a sip from the canteen. Your hand gently brushed across his face -wiping off the blood with the gentlest of movements. It felt far too intimate than it should've been.

Rick was silent, blue eyes in a steady haze across your face -surfing across your features in a sort of pleasant buzz. In the teeniest of moments, he leaned into your palm. His warm skin against your own sent something to your toes then, but you had a job to do.

When you finished, sweeping the rag across his nose with a swift motion -he took the rag, stashing it. In a sort of instinct, his hands went up to cup your face -determination settling somewhere deep in his eyes and a sort of worry in the furrow of his eyebrows.

"This will never happen again," he spoke -sounding somehow like a demand and a promise all at once, "-'kay?"

"And if it does?"

His eyes returned to the steely gaze -far away and distant from where you stood, and the heaviness there was enough to make your heart skip a beat. In fear? You couldn't tell.

Rick didn't stutter then, voice steady and with an unshakeable certainty -like you had asked if the sky was blue. His eyes shadowed in a sort of shade that spoke for itself.

"I think you know."

[asurrogateblog]

did y’all know that Rick fully re-recorded The Great Gig in the Sky by himself (and with Clare Torry on vocals) so he’d be the only one advertisers would need permission from to use it. anyway here’s an uncomfortably sexual banana commercial

[pinelessness]

oh thank god

[dam-bluecookies]

Luke Castellan is definitely based off Anakin Skywalker there's a lot I've thought about it and I'll elaborate in the tags

[chocolate-gore]

If you add Rick’s & Eddie’s haircuts together you get a full head of hair