The Walking Dead // Imagines (Complete)

Rick // it's my favourite razor

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Rick

Your pov:

During the course of the apocalypse I'd learned the importance of stealth. Before Alexandria, I used this skill to avoid walkers, strangers and death in general. Now, I was using it to steal Rick's razor.

It took a few attempts to get my hands on it; it seemed Rick was determined to repay me for catching him in the bathroom. But after two failed tries, I managed to grab it from its position by the sink, shove it down my baggy jumper and hide it in my room. Third time lucky.

Since I'd admitted I preferred him with facial hair, he'd began to grow back a little stubble but, as I found out the day after I'd committed the theft, this didn't stop him from wanting the razor. It didn't take long for Rick to notice the absence of his possession and it took even less time for him to identify the culprit.

"(y/n)," Rick spoke gruffly as he entered my room without knocking. Luckily, I was only sat on my bed rummaging through my backpack.

"Come on in, Rick, don't bother asking," I mumbled sarcastically, flashing him a grin.

"Hypocrite," he stated. "Where is it, then?" I smirked as I realised what he'd worked out.

"Where's what?" I asked, trying to feign innocence and hide my smile. I continued searching my bag, pretending to look for the item I'd found minutes ago.

"You know what," he sighed, but after a quick glance in his direction I quickly registered that he was as amused as I was.

"I do not." I had to hold back a chuckle at the fact we'd just rhymed.

"C'mon, (y/n), I already told you I'd grow it back." Rick began searching all the obvious hiding places in my room: under my bed, in my wardrobe, behind the curtains. I felt slightly anxious about him looking through my bedroom, despite the fact I had absolutely nothing to hide. Except the razor, of course.

"If you're growing it back, why d'you need the razor?" I questioned.

"So you do have it," Rick retorted with a smirk on his face. We stared at each other for a moment or two before I burst into laughter, realising that my unconvincing cover had been blown.

"Fine, I have it," I said, still laughing a little. "But you have to find it."

Rick looked at me in impressed disbelief before shaking his head and examining the room for possible hiding places. Before I could stop him, he strode towards me and snatched my backpack from my bag.

"Rick!" I exclaimed in shock. "It's not in there." I kneeled at the end of my bed and grabbed the bag from his hand, glaring at him with a pout. He laughed at my childishness before continuing to look around.

Wanting to check my movement hadn't disturbed the pillow the razor was sitting under, I tried to subtly look behind me - a big mistake. I turned back to Rick who was staring at me with a small smile, glancing between myself and the pillow. We lunged for it at the same time and after a few seconds of scrambling and squealing (from me), Rick was sprawled across my bed with the razor held triumphantly in his hand. I was still knelt but at some point amidst the struggle, my hands had ended up pinning him down by his chest. I swiftly removed them and sat back, sighing.

"You can't hide anything from me, (y/n)," Rick gloated. I raised my eyebrows ever so slightly and he mimicked my expression, an endearing smirk still plastered on his lips.

"I think I'm pretty good at hiding things, actually," I replied suggestively. Rick stood up and headed to my door and I followed, wanting to know what his next move in our stupid game would be. We walked into the bathroom and I watched as he placed the razor in a cupboard, firmly shutting the doors. He wasn't quick enough, however, and I noticed something slightly odd.

"Rick," I grinned, leaning on the door frame.

"What?" he groaned jokingly, smiling back and fixing his tousled hair. My mind couldn't help but consider how suspicious we currently looked, clothes messed up and cheeks red with a mixture of embarrassment and warmth.

"Why'd you need that razor when you have two others?"

His eyes snapped to mine and he wore an expression not too dissimilar to a rabbit in headlights. The smirk had been wiped off his face temporarily, but as he watched me gazing at him, it reappeared.

"It's my favourite one," he murmured, though it came out more like a question than a statement.

"You have a favourite razor?" I teased back. "They looked the same to me."

"I... I can't think of anything to say," he laughed, averting his gaze from mine and looking up at the ceiling momentarily.

"Rick Grimes, speechless?" I teased. I walked over to him slowly "I don't believe it."

"Shut up," he said quietly, still chuckling with a mortified expression.

"Did you just wanna play fight with me?" I flirtatiously asked. He looked at me for a moment before grabbing my hand and pulling my body to his. Our faces were inches apart and my breathing became erratic due to my nerves. Before I could come up with another snarky comment, his lips were on mine.

My hands immediately went to his face and his to my hips as he spun me around so that my body was pressed against the sink. As we kissed, my heart pounded and mind raced, in slight shock that this was actually finally happening. After a few minutes, I pulled away, suddenly aware that the door was wide open and we happened to live with Rick's teenage son. I wriggled out of Rick's grasp and walked over to shut it.

As I turned around, the sound of running water reached my ears. I was slightly taken aback to see Rick, who had removed his top, testing the temperature of the shower. For the second time that week I was stood at the bathroom door, faced with a topless Rick.

"I'm taking a shower," he stated, still wearing that unbelievably attractive smirk. "Care to join me?"