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Michonne had never been very impulsive—she liked everything in her life to be well planned, and she was one of those people who kept calendars where she wrote down all her appointments.
But, mysteriously, she found herself in a situation she definitely hadn’t planned for. And she was completely lost, unsure of what to do in the face of something she hadn’t thought through or considered. However, before she could let her thoughts take over her entire mind, Rick sucked and bit the skin below her ear, and everything drained away, no negative thoughts as she surrendered herself in a way that surprised her.
It was only after a while—and a deliciously long time, since Rick seemed addicted to exploring every inch of Michonne—that she truly stopped to think about what had just happened. She and Rick. One of her best friends. Probably the man Andre adored most after his father. A caring, loving person she didn’t want to leave her life—and when she thought that, Michonne felt her breath catch for a moment, for she’d never realized how much meaning life would have lost if Rick were no longer a part of it.
She turned her head and stared at Rick’s profile; a happy smile, almost reaching his ears, was the most striking detail; his curls were a perfect mess left by her hands, and one of Rick’s arms was raised, fiddling with his hair, both nervous and happy. But what made Michonne’s chest tighten the most was the pinkness all over him—his face, his ears, his neck, his chest. She bit her lip to hide how utterly adorable she found the pink tips of his ears, and it was at that moment that he turned to face her, his smile surprisingly widening.
“Hey,” he said, a happy laugh escaping his lips.
Michonne mirrored his smile, “Hi.”
“You look... amazing,” Rick continued, and Michonne realized how silly he was being at that moment. She wanted to smile, thinking she’d been able to disable the always composed and serious Rick Grimes.
“I look amazing with all this sweat and the loose strands of my ponytail?” Michonne retorted, incredulous, and gave a short laugh.
But Rick didn’t seem the least bit put off by Michonne’s words, still with that idiotic smile on his face: “Yes. Absolutely breathtaking.”
And in a gesture that almost took Michonne’s breath away, Rick brought one of his hands to Michonne’s face and gently tucked a dread strand of hair behind her ear. Then, he slid it gently down her cheek, until he reached the tip of her nose, which he nudged lightly with a smile on his face.
Michonne couldn’t help but smile slightly. Her thoughts, however, returned when Rick slightly got up from the bed to turn off his cell phone. She reminded herself that this wasn’t her house, and that she should probably leave and leave Rick alone. But, she didn’t even have time to get up to leave before Rick began speaking:
“So, ‘Chonne, if you want to take a shower, you know where the bathroom is. There are some sweatshirts in the top drawer of the closet if you want to change into somethang more comfortable. I’ll just change the sheets and get us a snack, okay?”
She was probably staring at Rick with wide eyes, and maybe that was what made him blush again, but this time with embarrassment, and he scrambled to say, “I mean, if you want to stay here, of course. It’s fine if you want to go home.”
Oh, how she wanted to stay there in Rick’s apartment, spend the night with him, sleep with his scent, and wake up in the morning next to him. But those thoughts were too dangerous, as was everything they had done that night—so she made the most rational decision and said, with practically no force in her words:
“I think I better go.”
Rick’s blush of embarrassment only deepened, and he scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. But, he managed a deep breath and a decidedly fake smile, saying,
“Yeah, I’ll put on my sweatshirt and walk you to the door.”
Michonne simply nodded, focusing her full attention on getting dressed. She bit her lip when she saw that one of the buttons on her blouse had popped, and a section of the stitching was coming apart—she’d made a note to never buy from that blouse store again, as it certainly didn’t look like reliable fabric.
When she stood up, Rick was already leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, wearing sweatpants that were too low for Michonne’s thoughts. She sighed and smiled, walking to the bedroom door, and Rick followed her to the apartment door. They both completely ignored the lamp and the books on the floor, as well as the dishes on the counter that had been thrown aside.
As soon as they reached the door, Michonne realized she’d made a colossal mistake, because she had no idea what they were going to say to each other. Oh, fuck, she thought, I totally screwed up with my best friend.
“Well, that was…” Rick began, but let out a laugh and lowered his head. “I don’t think I have any words for what that was.”
Rick looked up, his eyes irritatingly blue, and Michonne wanted to shake him and beg him to stop being so terribly adorable.
“Do you want…” he continued, the pink returning to his face as his hand scratched the back of his neck. “Well, maybe you want… to repeat?”
“Yes,” Michonne replied, too quickly for her liking, but if Rick noticed, he didn’t comment. “I mean, it’s the perfect situation, isn’t it? We’re both single and can unleash our libidos with each other.”
Maybe she was completely losing her mind, but Michonne couldn’t shake the feeling in her heart that Rick seemed to have lost a bit of his smile after what she said, but he quickly regained his composure, not wanting to leave any doubt that he would never accept anything from her.
“Sure,” Rick replied, a firm smile on his face. “Well, let me know when you get home, please?”
Michonne felt her lips twitch into a smirk, and she nodded before turning her back on Rick and leaving the apartment, feeling strangely sad.
𓇼
“Okay, girl, you’re going to have to help us here,” Sasha said, signing with a certain aggressiveness that made Connie laugh. “You had mind-blowing sex with your best friend, who you’ve been hiding a crush on for years, thinking none of us noticed, and yet you suggested something casual?”
Michonne shook her head, furrowing her brows and saying, “I don’t have a crush on Rick.”
“That’s not what you told him last night,” Rosita said, and all the girls laughed, even under Michonne’s hard glare.
“Connie, please help me here?” Michonne begged, turning to face Connie.
She shook her head and sign, “You made me win the bet, so I can’t help you.”
“Bet?” Michonne asked, extremely confused, and when she looked at her friends, they were all stifling laughter and slightly embarrassed. It didn’t take long for her to put two and two together. “You bet on my sex life!”
“Well,” Maggie began, barely controlling her laughter. “On yours and Rick’s.”
“We bet on how long it would take for you two to finally resolve this unbearable sexual tension. Connie won by saying two more months, and she also won a good amount of money,” Rosita added, turning to her and asking, “By the way, have you thought about what to do with that money?”
Connie didn’t answer, but she looked down with a goofy smile on her face as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. The girls all whistled, laughing and teasing.
“Daryl’s going to be a lucky man soon,” Magna said, and Connie threw a pillow at her. Then she turned to Michonne and retorted, “Take it, Mich, you knew this was going to happen soon.”
“No! I didn’t!” Michonne protested, and Sarah rolled her eyes.
“Girl, you’re so stubborn. Rosita, please!”
“Mich, please. I work with you. Every time there’s a court case and Rick is one of the detectives being questioned, you practically smile at him,” Rosita snitched, and Michonne bit her lip. “I’ve never seen you crack a smile when you’re in your lawyer persona. Besides, when you go to question him in court, no matter how much you keep your work away from personal affection, it seems like you and he are engaged in some weird foreplay.”
Michonne had no choice but to hide her face in her hands and lean back on the couch, listening to her friends’ laughter.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said, shrugging. Still, she could taste the sweet poison of her lies.
The girls burst into another fit of giggles, and Maggie said, “If you say so.”
𓇼
rick:
hey :)
so the kids gonna stay with lori this weekend
wanna come over?
Michonne gave a stupid smile when she read the messages, resting her chin on her folded legs.
you:
hey cowboy
just let me confirm if mike will pick up andre
he loves to be late
rick:
oh okay
but u can bring andre
if u want, ofc
miss the little guy
been a while since i last saw him
Stupid, stupid, terribly stupid. Michonne personally wanted to go up to Rick and punch him, because he absolutely had no obligation to be... well, to be the way he is.
you:
he misses you too actually
theres a new game that his father gave him and he says hes not playing until you come over
his dad almost had a heart attack
rick:
please lets arrange this
have to let him beat my ass in a game
and yeah i get that
lori and shane its losing their minds bc judith talks about you all the time and carl is only interested in the comic books you gave him
you:
as i mom i know how she feels
but its temporary you know
and they love her
rick:
yeah
its just
well, you know it wasn’t the best circumstances ever since we found about the whole cheating stuff
i know shane wants that paternity test
but lori pushed him away when judith was born, and she…
well? i assume she loves me a lot?
you:
she does
you know, you have this head tilt
is adorable
she does all the time
remember when she was a baby and was obsessed with feeding you?
cutest thing ever
rick:
god i love my little 7 year old girl so much
but whhhhhy they have to grow up :(
you:
its so sad, right?
i am so afraid of this with andre
hes my baby
i just know im gonna be that type of mother that treats their 30 year old children like they are babies
rick:
thats so adorable chonne
love how you look so different outside of the court
you:
oh yeah?
rick:
absolutely
im sure that if you show them your smile no one was gonna try to come against you
kinda hate when your against my case
its so hard to focus on anything that isnt you
Michonne bit her lower lip, and felt an unbearable heat run through her body. She didn’t know whether to love or hate the effect Rick had on her, especially with words as small and simple as those.
you:
don’t worry
i find it hard to focus too when u decide to put on that stupid black outfit.
kinda offensive the way they hug your biceps.
rick:
god
tell me mike answered
As if the universe were in their favor, Michonne received a message from Mike, saying he was on his way to pick up Andre.
you:
your lucky
gonna be there soon.
rick:
good
drive safe x
Michonne smiled at the last message and hung up her phone, heading to Andre’s room. He was already halfway dressed, excited to spend the weekend at Mike’s, and Michonne thanked the heavens that he was actually coming to pick Andre up.
While Andre lay on the couch, reading his picture book loudly, Michonne put on the clothes she’d just finished drying, not really getting dressed up due to the short time.
“Mommy, you’re so pretty!” Andre complimented, with that childlike kindness and honesty.
Michonne’s smile practically reached her ears, and she planted a kiss on Andre’s forehead, barely having time to oblige him before the announcement rang and Andre yelled a loud “Daddy!” and ran to the door. Michonne laughed and went to the door, unlocking it for the two of them, and they immediately hugged, telling each other how much they missed each other.
“Hey, Mich…” Mike greeted, his breath catching as he saw her. “Wow… You look… beautiful.”
“That’s what I told her!” Andre shouted happily, and Michonne laughed, barely containing her adoration for her son.
“Thanks, Mike. Is everything ready for Andre? You can call me if anything happens,” Michonne said as the three of them left the house.
Michonne checked everything Mike needed to know about Andre for a good weekend until she reached his car, parked in front of hers. Mike nodded, and Andre quickly jumped into the backseat when he saw it.
“So… Are you going out with the girls?” Mike asked, and Michonne raised an eyebrow. “You know, we could always schedule a weekend together with Andre.”
“I don’t think so. Andre is just getting used to the whole divorce, separated parents, and being bounced around. It’s not a good idea to confuse him further,” Michonne retorted, realizing only at the end of her speech that she had momentarily slipped into her lawyerly stance. It was extremely rare for that to happen away from the office and the courtroom.
“Sure, you’re right,” Mike agreed, but after a few seconds, he returned to his original question: “Give my regards to the girls.”
Michonne let out a small laugh and nodded. She waved goodbye to Andre through the window and smiled at how excited he was for the weekend. And to Mike, just a simple nod, and then she walked to her car, already feeling her breath catch for what awaited her that night.
𓇼
“Shit, ‘Chonne,” Rick groaned, breathing only through his mouth. “Hold ‘n, ‘darlin.”
Michonne smiled dangerously, feeling chills run through her body as she heard Rick’s accent only deepen. She moved her hips slowly, as if telling Rick what he was doing to her, and when he tightened his grip on her waist and arched his back, Michonne groaned, her spot further hammered home by the way Rick responded to her provocation with his body.
It was her turn to gasp for air when Rick’s hands slowly moved down to her ass, each squeezing tightly against her cheek. God, how Rick had squeezed with all his strength—Michonne had gotten used to the squeezing of her ass every time she had sex with someone, but God, no one had squeezed as thoroughly and forcefully as Rick. She bit her lip and thanked the police training academy a thousand times, even though she hated the whole organization.
Except for Rick, of course.
Michonne lowered herself and placed each of her hands on Rick’s shoulders, taking advantage of his trembling pleasure to pull him up until he was sitting on the bed. It wasn’t her smartest move, because they were practically at the edge of the bed, and Michonne felt her body losing strength, tilting toward the floor.
But Rick’s arms were faster, wrapping his arms around her until his hands were on her back, pulling her back to him. Michonne tore her lips away, but no sound came out, feeling that pleasure again when her hips inevitably shifted.
“Rick,” she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. Rick lowered one of his hands to her waist, squeezing her tightly, and his lips occupied themselves with kissing and biting her neck. Michonne couldn’t explain it, but it was hard to contain all the excitement, especially after the hand that was squeezing her waist moved up to place that pressure on one of her breasts. All she could respond to was her fingers squeezing the waves of hair at the nape of Rick’s neck with a strength she hadn’t even known she could muster in such a situation. And the other response was low moans from her shallow breathing, which was driving Rick crazy in a way she couldn’t even imagine. “Rick, I can’t take it anymore.”
Rick gently cupped the back of her neck, pulling her face until they were both facing each other.
“Okay, ma’am,” he whispered, and smiling, he quickened the movement of his hips, as did Michonne’s. She tightened her grip on his hair, her eyes rolling back in her head. It had been almost two weeks since they’d had sex for the first time, but Michonne felt as if she were having sex for the first time, and discovering the pleasure that could be had. She didn’t know if Rick was there with her, but she couldn’t even care, too far from reality to think.
All it took was the movement of Rick’s thighs, one of his fingers playing with her clit, and his mouth sucking on her breast for her to finally feel her body releasing everything after so long of being stimulated. Michonne threw her head back, letting out short, loud breaths that were too loud for her.
Rick buried his face in her neck, sucking and biting it for a few seconds until Michonne felt him cum inside her, soon dripping down her thighs, as he gripped her back and made her smile. She thanked the heavens for the preventative chip injected into her arm, because she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to not feel everything Rick had for her.
She wanted to say something to him, even if it was just a smile and an embarrassed “hi,” but Michonne didn’t have time for that, because Rick gently held her and laid her down on the bed, earning a grunt as he pulled out. He placed both his wrists on the bed and began to roam her body with wet kisses and the occasional bite here and there. Michonne didn’t know exactly what he was planning until she felt his lips sucking on her clit, while he threw both her legs over his shoulders, practically pressing his face against hers.
“Rick,” Michonne called, and Rick lifted his face to look at her, the blue of his eyes almost disappearing due to how dilated his pupils were.
“Let me, ‘Chonne,” Rick murmured breathlessly. “Miss ‘ur taste.”
Michonne whined and nodded. Happy as if he’d just won a million dollars, Rick lowered his head, and when his lips found her clit again, while his hands tightened their grip on her thighs until his fingers sank completely into her flesh, Michonne moaned and pulled at his hair, feeling like she was in serious trouble—but also in damn heaven.
𓇼
Rick was a demon in bed, but Michonne had never seen a more adorable side of him after he was exhausted. He had buried his head in Michonne’s neck, his hand lightly caressing her stomach while their legs were intertwined. Rick let out a deep, contented sigh when Michonne brought her fingers to his hair, and unlike before, when she was pulling it, she simply gave him a slow, loving caress.
“Can you stay the night?” Rick asked, giving her a peck on the neck.
Michonne swallowed. Last time, she’d rushed out of Rick’s apartment—but now, what harm was there? They’d both agreed it was just to satisfy the sexual urges they couldn’t get to because of the busyness of everyday life. It’s not like spending a night at his apartment would make them a couple or anything.
“Only if you give me some food. I’m starving,” Michonne replied, and Rick let out a loud laugh, standing up and planting one last kiss on her shoulder.
Not more than twenty minutes later, Michonne was wearing one of Rick’s sweatshirts and a pair of black socks that came up above her ankles, and she was trying not to show how comfortable she was. To make matters worse, Rick’s couch was perfectly soft, and if she hadn’t been hungry, she would have fallen asleep right there.
Rick had made a beautiful plate with various fruits scattered around: watermelon, grapes, strawberries, bananas, cantaloupe, and even blackberries. He sat down beside her without any shame, grabbing one of the cushions to support the plate and handing her a bottle of water. Michonne smirked, because Rick always remembered that she liked to eat anything with water—he always asked for a bottle when they went out with his friends, before she even had the chance.
“I’m surprised you actually have fruit at your house, and not a bunch of junk food,” Michonne said, stopping her gaze from the random show playing and focusing on sucking the last piece of watermelon without spilling any on Rick’s super comfy sweatshirt.
He chuckled at her words and replied teasingly as he placed the now-empty plate on the coffee table: “That’s what having two kids does to you.”
Michonne looked up at him and rolled her eyes. She groaned as she felt the red liquid dripping down her neck—muttering a soft “shit,” she finished the entire piece and was ready to try to clean up her mess, but she was oblivious to the fact that Rick was watching her the entire time. In a quick gesture, Rick brought one of his hands to the back of Michonne’s neck to better utilize it, and traced a path from her collarbone to her lips, licking up all the liquid.
Michonne felt her breath hitch, and to her dismay, Rick didn’t kiss her deeply, just tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth and extended his face to be within reach, their eyes level.
“You’re an absolute freak, Rick,” Michonne managed to choke out, and Rick let out a genuine laugh and touched his forehead to hers, but looking down, the tips of his ears extremely red.
“I can’t explain what you do to me, ‘Chonne,” he murmured, and Michonne smiled, bringing her hands to the back of his neck, finding his curly locks. It was at a point where Michonne suspected the gesture was automatic.
“You know, I’m not mad,” Michonne said, letting out a laugh, and Rick lifted his face, smiling as soon as he saw her smile.
Tenderly, Michonne cupped Rick’s face in her hands, lightly caressing his cheek with her thumb and planting a short, simple kiss on Rick’s lips, smiling. Rick seemed taken aback, but it wasn’t long before he was smiling, and in the most adorable gesture that increased Michonne’s heartbeat, he lightly bumped his nose with hers several times, a goofy grin on his face.
“Come on, let’s watch a movie,” she said, still smiling.
𓇼
Michonne opened her eyes when she felt comfortable fabric draped over her, followed by a warm, calm breath on the back of her neck, and the weight of an arm around her waist.
In the dim light outside, Michonne recognized Rick’s apartment. The television was off, and the clock on the wall read almost 1:30 a.m. She had fallen asleep during the movie and hadn’t even realized it.
Michonne glanced over her shoulder, and Rick was sleeping with a slight smile on his face, his chest rising and falling with soft breathing. She couldn’t help but smile, and with no one around to see her, she let any worries about their situation creep into her mind—she just wanted to enjoy this moment.
Carefully, Michonne turned until she was facing Rick, and rested her head on her hand, while the other hand stroked the strands of Rick’s hair that had fallen across his forehead. Gently, she pushed them back, then dedicated herself to the subtle art of stroking his curls. Rick murmured softly in satisfaction, his eyes still closed, and his face moved slightly, smiling.
Michonne had often appreciated Rick’s beauty. But all those times had been from afar, and now she was seeing Rick completely up close, with barely any space between them. As if it were possible, he was even more handsome up close than from afar. There was a certain beauty about Rick that she couldn’t explain to anyone else, only appreciate.
She remembered the conversation with her friends, and that time, she couldn’t ignore the obvious signs of their connection. Rick had always been an incredible and kind friend to her, but Michonne couldn’t deny that there always seemed to be something more between them—the touch of fingers when they offered a beer or handed a briefcase in court, the hand squeezing her shoulder in any difficult situation, the way Rick was always so comfortable with Andre, just as Michonne was with Carl and Judith. Something had always been happening to them, and now it had finally come to fruition.
But Michonne didn’t know what this could mean for their future. And part of her simply didn’t want to find out, just keep walking. She knew Rick was with her, and in a strange way, she trusted him in a way she’d never trusted even her past boyfriends. Maybe it was because they’d been friends before this, but Rick simply gave her that impression.
“Hmmm—aren’t you going to sleep?” Rick murmured softly, startling Michonne a little. His eyes were still closed, and he pulled her even closer. “We can go to bed.”
Michonne let out a weak laugh, and Rick opened one of his eyes, smirking. She could see how sleepy he still was.
“I don’t want to move," Michonne replied, running her finger from the bridge of his nose to the tip. “But we’ll wake up with backaches tomorrow.” Rick laughed, bringing his face closer to hers to bump the tips of their noses, an act so full of adoration that Michonne smiled and buried her fingers deeper in his curls.
“I’ll give you a massage, deal?” he whispered, and Michonne lowered herself onto the couch to lie against his chest, smiling.
“Deal.”
𓇼
Michonne was still feeling the heat in her body when she got home after breakfast with Rick. She felt like a high school teenager again, with one of those insufferable crushes that made her giggle constantly.
But she was ready to spend a whole night alone at home, putting all thoughts of Rick out of her head. Until all her friends started texting nonstop, arranging a night at Maggie and Glenn’s apartment. Michonne sighed as everyone talked about needing to clear their heads on Saturday after a long, boring week of work. She was ready to make up some excuse—or just tell the truth—until Rick replied.
rick:
fine glenn
i’ll be there
Michonne bit her lip, feeling dizzy from wanting to go just because Rick was going. At that moment, a message in the girls’ group popped up.
rosita:
yeaaahhhhhhh
guess now mich’s coming
sasha:
thank you, rick grimes, for taking our girl out of the house !
you:
i didn’t even say if i’m coming.
tara:
so you’re not?
you:
well
maggie:
oh, you’re down BAD.
rosita:
can already hear the bells. . .
magna:
don’t put me to wear a dress on your wedding.
you:
oh, shut up.
But even though she tried to fool her friends and herself, it didn’t take long for her to answer the other group.
glenn:
what about you, mich?! :)
you:
i’ll be there, glenn x
Michonne was sure all her friends knew what was going on between her and Rick—all her friends already knew, and she didn't doubt that Rick had told his friends. Especially the way Daryl looked at her as they all sat down on the comfortable rug in Maggie and Glenn’s living room, with a weird sideways grin that Michonne responded with a scowl, which made him laugh.
Rick sat next to Carol, knees drawn up and a beer in his hand. He looked good enough to eat, and Michonne had to look away from him to control her urge to jump him.
“Hey, you two, no talking about work here,” Abraham said, catching Rick and Carol’s attention. “Time for a truth or dare, huh?”
Michonne let out a short, teasing laugh. “What are we, fifteen?”
“Come on, Mich, it’ll be fun,” Connie signed, and after a wink, “Reminisce about old times.”
Smirking, she nodded and nodded. It didn’t take long for the game to begin, Abraham’s empty beer bottle in the middle of their circle, spinning around and around. The problem with being in a group of friends where many had hooked up here and there at college parties was that few were still shy around each other—Michonne felt like she was the only one shy around Rick, probably because the two had never even kissed at college parties.
The dares and truths went from pair to pair, Michonne managing to escape in the first few turns. At some point, Connie had lost her shirt, which made Daryl look extremely tense at Abraham, while his arm was practically covering her collarbone and her bra; Rosita and Tara were flushed after Tara confessed her not-so-hidden crush on Rosita; Eugene was breathless after Sasha dared Rosita to kiss him; Glenn was shirtless, and Maggie didn’t seem the least bit bothered, her eyes barely hiding how much they were roaming his torso.
She was laughing at the dares and truths that were being thrown back and forth, feeling a slight calm after a good bottle of beer. Until Rick was dared to take off his shirt, his necklace with the small guitar pendant sticking out from under his shirt. Michonne remembered the feeling of running her hands over his torso, gripping his shoulders, scratching his back, leaving bite marks on his waist—her eyes widened when she saw his waist, covered in exposed purple marks from her teeth.
Abraham whistled as soon as he finished taking off his shirt, saying louder than usual because of the two beers he’d already had: “Someone’s taking really good care of our big boy here.”
Michonne could clearly see what Rick looked like when he blushed, the blush rising from his chest to the tips of his ears. Her stomach fluttered, and she decided that if they ever had sex again, she’d make sure the room was brightly lit—she really wanted to see what that blush would look like when she held him in her hands.
The bottle spun, and unfortunately, the tip landed facing her, the bottom facing Daryl. He gave her a dangerous smirk, and she narrowed her eyes at him; but she knew it was useless. Daryl never backed down when he’d made the decision to make life miserable for others. Besides, he was the person who knew Rick best. Tonight, those two things didn’t quite fit together.
“Truth or dare, Michonne?” Daryl asked, and Michonne considered. Choosing truth would definitely not be a good idea; Daryl might ask her something she didn’t want to answer, especially in front of the others, and it would certainly be something related to Rick.
Sighing, Michonne replied, “Dare.”
Everyone whistled, and if possible, Daryl smiled even wider. Beside him, Connie was hiding her smile, as were her friends; they knew nothing good could come of a challenge from Daryl Dixon.
“A kiss. With tongue and all. For Rick. Oh, and sitting on his lap.”
Michonne couldn’t even hear her own heartbeat racing, as her friends screamed and cheered at the challenge. She stole a glance at Rick, and he was staring at Daryl, who remained unfazed.
“Come on, Michonne!” Glenn encouraged, and Maggie hid her laughter in his shoulder.
“Fine,” Michonne replied, feigning a monotone, as if this were something boring to her. Standing up, she went to Rick, wanting to rip out those blue eyes that made everything warmer and, strangely, comfortable.
“Don’t worry, we’ll turn up the music so you’re more comfortable,” Daryl said, and indeed, the music increased, until the noise of her friends became distant sounds.
Not wanting to delay or think too much about it, Michonne sat on Rick’s lap, and automatically, his hands went to her waist, his eyes searching hers desperately. Before anything else happened, they were both breathless.
“Let’s get this over with,” Michonne whispered, and Rick smirked dangerously.
“Sure, ma’am,” he replied, teasing her.
“Fuck you,” Michonne retorted, and before he could give another smart-ass retort, she captured his lips in a kiss.
It was desperate, wet, and messy, but with that passion that seemed to only arise when they were kissing. Kissing Rick wasn’t anything new, but it seemed like each time something new emerged between them, a new sensation, something Michonne couldn’t explain, but which she felt coursing through her entire body.
She didn’t even try to pretend they’d never kissed before, moving her hands from his shoulders to his hair, tangling her fingers in his curls as she always did. Rick groaned against her lips, licking her mouth possessively, making Michonne lift a few inches off his lap. But he didn’t let that happen—quickly, Rick lowered his hands to her ass and pulled her down, squeezing.
Michonne moaned, both of them needing to separate their lips momentarily to breathe, but soon returning to work, Michonne sucking on his lower lip, making him slightly move his hips, an almost imperceptible act. She was barely aware that her friends’ screams had increased in volume, drowning out the music—or had the music faded? She didn’t know, nor did she even care, too focused on the sensation of Rick’s fingers running down her back, and the long grunt he let out as she lowered one of her hands to his neck. Michonne didn’t squeeze or anything, just held it there, but judging by Rick’s response, perhaps that was an idea worth considering.
The alarm jolted them both awake, and Daryl’s voice shouted, “Time’s up. But if you want to continue whatever this was, that’s fine with us.”
Her breathing was terribly shallow, as was Rick’s. They stared at each other as if they’d just felt their worlds end and begin again in the same instant, both surprised and in disbelief at having done all that in front of their best friends’ hungry eyes. There was no better word to describe them than stunned. Speechless. Michonne took a deep breath, trying to catch her breath, and rose from Rick’s lap, heading back to her previous spot with her eyes wide open, a slight tremor running through her body. Rosita was smiling as she sat down next to her, but Michonne didn't even have time to react.
“Man, she made a mess of you,” Abraham said, laughing. Michonne stole a glance at him and bit her lower lip; she hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was watching from a distance, all of Rick’s hair was messed up, and his mouth was shiny and red from the lip gloss she was—or rather, had been—wearing. Rick smiled shyly and ran his hands through his hair, futilely trying to fix it.
After a round or three, which Michonne didn’t need to worry about, the pizzas arrived, and they busied themselves spreading out around the living room with pizza plates, chatting loudly and watching an episode of Love Island, making fun of everything that was happening. Michonne took a seat at the end of the couch, with Magna pressing lightly against her. She was afraid to open her mouth and say something inappropriate, still feeling the effects of the kiss; and when she looked at Rick, he seemed the same. Michonne felt happy that she had that effect on him too—it didn’t seem fair that he could mess with her head and remain unharmed.
Not paying any attention to the episode, she got up and went to the kitchen, washing her plate and the other dishes as a form of therapy for her mind. The light sound of laughter reached her, her friends enjoying watching an episode with the effects of beer on the body. The effects of the single bottle she had consumed had long since worn off.
She heard someone enter the kitchen, but knew exactly who it was when he approached her. Rick stood beside her at the sink, two plates in hand, breathing heavily—he was going to say something important, she knew. She knew his signals after two court cases.
“Michonne… I’m sorry. For Daryl,” he said, and Michonne lifted her face, staring at every gentle feature that made him both beautiful and adorable. She wanted to push him back hard, because he had no right to be like this.
“It’s okay,” she replied, taking the dishes from his hand and returning to washing. “I imagine you told your friends about me, as I told mine. So, I guess everyone in the room knows.”
“I didn’t tell ‘em anythang,” Rick corrected, and Michonne looked at him instantly.
She gripped the kitchen corner tightly, looking at him with her brows knitted together.
“Rick, it’s fine. I don’t mind you told them. Like I said, my girls know too.”
Rick shook his head and repeated, “Didn’t tell ‘em anythang.”
Now she was confused. Michonne had really thought he was omitting it to avoid worrying her, but Rick never lied—and when he rarely said something that wasn’t entirely true, he’d pinch his nose for almost imperceptible seconds.
“Then why did Daryl asked that challenge?”
Rick huffed and began scratching the back of his neck, pacing back and forth in front of Michonne, which made her even more confused and nervous.
“Rick?” she called, and he stopped in front of her, arms crossed and one hand over his mouth, picking at his lip.
“Do you promise that if I tell you somethang, nothing will change? That you’ll still be my friend?” Rick asked, and by the tremor in his voice, Michonne knew that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was serious.
But she looked into his bright blue eyes, and as nervous as she was, she would never let him down like that. Smiling, hoping to comfort him, she replied, “Nothing will change, Rick. I’ll always be your friend, no matter what.”
Rick nodded repeatedly, as if needing to reinforce what she’d said. Michonne could barely contain her excitement, and when Rick looked up, his gaze meeting hers, she felt her stomach lurch.
“I like you, Michonne,” Rick began, his voice carrying a lifetime of feelings. “Everyone knows. God, it’s obvious to everyone, but not to you. I am crazy about you ever since you walked up to me in our first courtroom. Jesus Christ, I had everything prepared to say, and you left me speechless. I had to look at the papers to remember the case and what I had to say. You destroyed me that day. And instead of feeling angry, like I always did in court, I just… God, I felt like I could live the rest of my life with you walking all over me.”
Michonne felt her breath hitch as he began, and she listened to everything as if she were outside her body, observing everything. Every word his lips uttered only intensified her feelings even more, and when he finished, her racing heartbeat was all she could hear. Her entire body was covered in goosebumps, and it was as if her mind was paused, slowly processing everything Rick had just said.
She wasn’t impulsive. She never got involved in anything that deviated from her plan. And there was Rick, standing in front of her, telling her how much he liked her, messing up her entire life without even caring. Michonne had given up on her love life since she'd dated Sasha’s brother, and things hadn’t gone so well. But Rick seemed to have a mind of his own in her life, swooping in and disrupting her plans, her days, her every controlled thought.
And that sent an inexplicable rage through her.
“You bastard,” she said, the word barely escaping through her clenched teeth. “You idiot and scoundrel.” She slammed her fists into his chest, and with a puppy-eyed face, Rick let her have her way. “You’re the most—the most—real bastard! You bastard! God, I hate you.”
Michonne didn’t give Rick any time to respond, pulling him by the hair into a voracious kiss that nearly knocked him over. She felt his hands immediately go to her waist, surprised but not missing the opportunity. Michonne had never kissed anyone like that, not even Mike, with a desperation she couldn’t explain why she was feeling. Maybe it was because of what Rick had just said. Or her stupid anger. It could be anything, but she never wanted to leave that moment.
She rolled her hips, and Rick grunted, squeezing her ass so she was even closer to him. It was official for Michonne: Rick definitely had a thing for her ass. But she couldn’t complain, since she obviously had a thing for his hair—her nails scratched the back of his neck, and she felt the tremor that ran through his body. They separated only for a few seconds to breathe, then returned to work, and Michonne exhaled, disrupting the kiss, when Rick lifted one of her legs, and their hips connected perfectly.
“Rick, we’re— fuck, we’re in public,” she managed to say, between the sucks and bites Rick was leaving on her neck.
He pulled away from her face, his chest rising and falling, just like hers. Michonne pulled her leg out of Rick’s hand and watched as he closed his eyes, trying to recover from what had just happened. And, faced with the stupor of the kiss, Michonne began to despair, unsure of what to make of what had happened—Rick’s words, her words, and her attitude of simply... simply trying to solve everything with a kiss. But she was drunk enough from his kiss to say, her voice practically cracking:
“I thought it was just sex for you.”
Rick opened his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing, and immediately shook his head. “You were the one who wanted casual. I was ready to ask your hand in marriage that night.”
Michonne couldn’t help but smile, and embarrassed, she looked down. Rick’s ridiculous cowboy boots seemed strangely matched with Michonne’s black boots, like those opposites that are simultaneously magnets.
“I didn’t... this wasn’t something I planned,” Michonne began to explain, lifting her face to look at him. They were still hugging, and she didn’t feel like being anywhere but in Rick’s arms.
“I know, ‘darlin. That’s why I kept a secret this whole time. But then... you showed up that night with that stupid purple outfit, looking like you’d just stepped out of my dreams. And you wanted me that night, Michonne, and I felt like the luckiest man on earth.”
Michonne let out a weak laugh. “I wouldn’t have let that blonde girl have you. You’re mine.”
She was surprised by her own words, not even knowing where that possessiveness had come from, but it made sense, given all the countless times she’d looked at Rick with some of her girlfriends, or with girls here and there flirting with him. It wasn’t just jealousy, it was something more.
“Fuck, Michonne. You can’t just say thangs like that,” Rick retorted, his voice dangerously low. Michonne smiled, feeling his hands tighten around her waist.
“I don’t know what we’re doing, Rick,” Michonne confessed, and Rick looked at her with that same concern and adoration. She’d never noticed it before, but she was sure she’d never stop observing every detail about Rick, especially when it concerned her.
Rick sighed deeply and cupped her face gently with his hands, his fingers massaging the back of her neck, exposed by the amateur bun she’d done before going to eat. Michonne felt their breathing become practically the same, but closed her eyes when he leaned in evenly and kissed her, a quick peck on the lips and then a kiss where their tongues met and slowly danced. It wasn’t a pressing kiss, but a slow, delicate kiss.
Michonne licked her lips when they finished, their foreheads pressed together and so close they seemed to be one. She ran both hands down his arms and smiled when their eyes met. There was no point in denying it or pretending it wasn’t there, exposed to both of them and anyone else who wanted to see.
“It took me a while, but I’m here now, Rick. And I’m stupidly in love with you,” Michonne whispered against his lips, smiling as she watched his sparkling eyes, his heavy breathing, and his huge smile. He let out a laugh and grabbed her in a hug, spinning her around until they were both laughing at each other, fighting to plant kisses on every part of their faces.
“I really love you, Michonne,” Rick said through his smiles. Michonne laughed as he left kisses all over her face.
“Tell me again.”
“I love you. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life saying that to you,” Rick replied, a goofy grin on his face, and Michonne had no choice but to stand on her tiptoes and kiss him.
𓇼
Michonne watched Carl surfing almost as well as his father with a smile on her face. On the sand, Judith and Andre were attempting a sandcastle, and despite their failure, they both laughed nonstop.
The beach was practically empty, and the sun was hot, but not painfully so. Michonne couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so comfortable, her feet buried in the sand, her skin warm. No work, no worries in the way.
Rick appeared with her drink in hand, and Michonne took a moment to admire him. He’d competed—and won—with the beach to be the most beautiful sight. The summer Rick version wasn’t a surprise to Michonne, but that had been the time they’d gone to the beach, and she hadn’t known she needed to see him surfing like a pro, playing with the kids with a smile on his face, sunbathing and reading his book, and of course, with sunglasses perched on his head, his skin struggling between tan and red, and his hand always finding her thigh when they sat on the beach chairs.
But on that particular afternoon, he looked so handsome, Michonne wanted to bite off a piece of him. It certainly wasn’t a healthy emotion, but she no longer knew how to explain the feeling she was having that day every time she saw him.
“Here’s your drink, ma’am,” Rick said, with that drawl seductive accent of his.
“Good boy,” Michonne said, and Rick’s gaze deepened, as did his breathing. He sat in the chair next to her, already placing his hand on her thigh, and muttered,
“You like making me lose my mind, don’t you?”
Michonne laughed, taking a sip of her drink and placing it back on the table next to them, turning her attention to Rick and leaving a small bite on his cheek. “That’s my favorite skill.”
Rick tried to snort, but a laugh came out. Michonne linked her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder, the two watching their children enjoy the beach. Lori, Shane, and Mike didn’t have the best reactions when the two started dating and became an important part of Carl, Judith, and Andre’s lives; but they didn’t have much to do, because, to Michonne and Rick’s surprise, the kids immediately embraced the idea of them being a couple, and wouldn’t listen to anything to the contrary. Eventually, the other parents had to admit defeat, and while they still didn’t completely like it, they didn’t go against what their children thought and felt.
The summer trip had sparked a few arguments here and there, but once again, the kids’ wishes were respected. It was everything Michonne and Rick had wanted, ever since they agreed they were their own family. Michonne loved that idea more than ever—she’d always loved being her and Andre, but now she loved having Andre, Rick, Carl, and Judith even more. A family of their own.
Rick sighed contentedly, patting Michonne’s arm. “What do you think of a summer wedding, baby? We’ll have a year to arrange everything.”
In a sudden movement, Michonne pulled away from Rick, looking at him with shock. “What are you talking about?”
Rick’s previously confused expression turned to one of despair, his eyes widening, their blue even more pronounced.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. That’s what I forgot to do last night,” he said, leaning forward and running his hands over his face.
Michonne put her hand over her mouth, but couldn’t help but laugh even if she wanted to. Rick turned to her, still confused by what was happening.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, Rick. It’s just... you forgot to ask me in marriage?!” she said, her words coming out in the middle of her laughter.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Really, I can’t explain how much I’m sorry that I ruined—“
Michonne cut him off with a quick kiss, cupping his face gently, and Rick immediately melted into the kiss. She pulled away from his face just a little, smiling and stroking his ears.
“You know, for a detective, you’re terrible at hiding,” Michonne said, and Rick’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I know, Rick. I discovered the ring when I was packing for the trip. I just put it back and pretended I hadn’t seen anything. I had a feeling you were planning something else on this trip. But of all the ways to propose, I didn’t think you’d use that one.”
“Michonne,” Rick said, chuckling and shaking his head. “I should have proposed better. Even though you knew I was going to. I’ll propose properly, I promise.”
A huge grin spread across Michonne’s face, and she couldn’t resist another peck on his lips.
“Okay. But this is still going to be my favorite proposal ever,” she said, and Rick laughed, in disbelief at the bride he had.
Michonne pulled him in for a kiss, and she knew this was the first day of a lifetime of love ahead.