#sub rick

The sweat gathered along his hairline before beading down his temples. It coiled through his curls, causing them to slick against his forehead. His breath was ragged, trying not to further disassociate. The man’s voice trailed far away, only reaching his ears when muffled and incoherent.

His mind spiraled, only able to understand his current reality in its most basic form. This was how life was now. He would show up whenever he wanted. He would take whatever he wanted. Rick would be whoever he wanted.

Still rooted in the most elementary, his body instinctively started to ache. Something deep within his lower abdomen stirred as he kneeled before the man that had bashed through his family. His confidence. His sense of morality. His sense of self.

After that night…after what he’d done…after what he could have done…Rick knew he shouldn’t feel this way.

Yet he did.

He tried to fight against the tension that lingered in his muscles and made his cock twitch, every second making him harder than before. His core tightened as his body yearned for more…it was sinful.

Submission often looked more graceful. It was often cold steel cutting into vulnerable flesh. A docile lamb waiting for slaughter. However, Rick wasn’t feeble and weak. He was pale blue, bloodshot eyes holding back tears yet to fall. He was a bundle of nerves straining to be contained. He was the embodiment of exhaustion coated in sweat.

Left with nothing worth saying, his lips parted aimlessly. The look on his face would be foreign to him. He couldn’t even imagine the pathetic display laid before Negan. He didn’t want to.

“Nothing to say?…well, let me repeat myself in the hope of us coming to some kind of understanding.” The man sucked through his teeth as he paced. “You see…you’re special, Rick. It’s not enough for me to take half, hell, it wouldn’t be enough for me to take everything you folks got!”

That ache within him throbbed as he tried to reconcile the pleasure it brought. Submission may be graceful, but surrender hardly ever is. A bitter taste filled his mouth as his knees planted further into the floorboards beneath him. This was a type of surrender. It made his stomach turn, knowing that he was only here to do as told.

It was nauseating how good it felt…giving up the control that kept everyone he cared for safe…It was repulsive how much he craved it.

Grabbing Rick’s chin and forcing his eyes up, “You have got to face the music, sunshine! Eyes forward…class is in session!” Negan boomed above him. Rick’s head moved in sync with the man’s guidance and remained in position after he removed his hand.

Negan’s gaze contrasted his in every way. It was confident and hungry, fostering an overwhelmingly helplessness in Rick’s chest. Even as he broke his focus to grab a chair, the presence of it lingered on his skin.

His movements were antagonizingly slow as he deliberately dragged the chair closer, turned it to face Rick, and sat down. He reached into one of the pockets on his leather jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping it against his palm twice before opening it. He licked his bottom lip and winked at the pitiful display of the man in front of him, “Things’ll kill you, ya know?” A complacent chuckle left his chest before resting a cigarette between his lips, reaching in another pocket for a lighter.

Rick tried to focus on the soreness that trailed through his muscles, only to find his mind drifting to thoughts of Negan’s lips…their softness…the wet warmth of his mouth…how it would feel to have his cock…He shook his head trying to dislodge the thought.

“Are you even listening to me?” The reverberation of the man’s voice broke through the internal conflict that brewed within Rick and his gaze returned to meet Negan’s.

He nodded, the movement vigorous and uncoordinated. Voice shaky and breathless as he answered, “Y…yes, Negan.” A single tear breaking through the line of defense and streaming down his face. The stern glare that deepened Negan’s features shifted and twisted into a grin as he laughed, causing Rick to flinch slightly.

Swiping his tongue across his top teeth, he lit his cigarette before continuing, “As I was saying…stripping you of all of…” Gesturing around, “This. Just simply wouldn’t be enough to quench my thirst. Now that’s my mistake, Ricky boy. I own that. Fuck me, man, I thought it would! But after today? Well…I just know it is not enough.”

Rick tilted his head like a confused dog, his bottom lip trembling as he searched for words to right any wrongs, “I…found the guns, I-I gave you one that wasn’t even accounted for…I kn-know the rules. We know the rules.” Hands also working in tandem to plead his case. Despite the desperate frenzy that whirled within him, he held Negan’s gaze. Even though a part of him wanted respite from its intensity…another, more primal part reveled in the feeling of being consumed by him.

“You may be listening. But you are most certainly not hearing me, Rick. It’s. Not. Enough.” Rick flinched at each click of his tongue before seeing him take another drag of the cigarette. Negan’s head dipped back as the smoke left his lips.

As he stared at the ceiling, he groaned, “But…” The word was sickly sweet in its presentation. Negan was playing with Rick. Cat and mouse. Hunter and buck. But it wasn’t that simple. Usually, one pursued and one reacted. But Negan framed it in a way that made Rick both the pursuer and the pursued. That one word made him want to chase…or be chased. Whatever would pay the penance for his unknown sins. Instinctively, Rick’s eyebrows raised at the prospect and his eagerness was on gross display.

“I’m kind enough to offer a solution to this particular situation-I know. I am just too gooda’ man for this kind of world. Ain’t I?” Rick could only nod and Negan knew he was past verbal affirmations. The man seemed delighted at his suffering, only meeting it with laughter as his elbows came to rest on his thighs. The pounding in Rick’s chest was embarrassingly loud.

“You see, Rick…I have done things I’d like to forget.” Taking another drag before condescendingly blowing the smoke into Rick’s face. “And I think you can get me closer to God. Maybe even help me get away from myself.”

“H-how?” His voice croaked out while his mind raced. Flashes of his axe and Carl’s arm stretched wide danced in the back of his mind. God hadn’t actually wanted Abraham to kill his son. He had only wanted to see that devotion put on display. Was he on display?

His thoughts were quieted as he caught the flicker of Negan’s eyes over his body, becoming aware of how hard he was. His cock strained against his jeans and all he could muster was gratitude for not having to suffer sooner as those thoughts were replaced by the feeling of his cock pressed painfully against his zipper.

“I think you know. And, oh boy, do I think you want it too! Rick.” He tossed his cigarette aside and grabbed the man’s face again, locking their eyes. “I wanna fuck you like an animal. I mean…I need to feel you from the inside. Can you do that for me?”

It almost pissed Rick off…the sincerity of the question. He knew the ask was genuine. He could deny the man or even go as far as to strike the man for his proposition and there would be no repercussions.

But the fight within him was gone. It was gone the moment he was dragged by his scruff like a dog from the RV. The moment he settled in the feeling of not being in charge. Not being responsible.

It felt condescending, not in tone but in act, as it forced him to choose again. Forced him to chase instead of be chased.

All he could muster was a nod and Negan patronizingly patted his check, “Goooood boy! Be a doll and fetch me something to slick my dick with. Don’t get me wrong, I want to split you in two. But only metaphorically…I’d be doing myself a disservice if I put you out of commission this early on.”

Rick forced his face to remain neutral as a grimace tried to manifest at the man’s words. Negan painted it as a choice though it was only an illusion. Despite the humiliation, his body acted on its own. Rising from the kneeled position and moving towards the kitchen.

He grabbed the half-empty bottle of oil and turned back, only to be met by Negan’s shit-eating grin. “It is truly inspiring to know you can do as you’re told.” A hand grabbing Rick’s hip and yanking him closer. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the feeling of not being in control.

Negan laughed as his body rutted against the sensation and it pierced through his skull. He ground his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the sensation as Negan started to palm him through his pants. “Tell me…should I bend you over the counter or would you like something a little more intimate?”

A desperate moan ripped through Rick's throat. “I…I’m not…”

Cutting him off with sternness, “Tell me, Rick. Or should I just decide for you?”

“You need…you need to decide.” Rick whined, not being able to state his point more elegantly. The friction of his jeans…the warmth of the other man’s hand…he whimpered in response, “P…please…”

Negan’s hand moved from his hip and tangled in his hair before pulling him in roughly for a hungry kiss. His mind went blank and he felt his body freeze, unable to reciprocate. Only he hadn’t frozen. His hips moved in tandem with the push and pull of their tongues slithering against one another. Soft whimpers and moans left his lips in between desperate gasps. He felt the coil starting to tighten as he got closer, “Fuck…Negan…”

Suddenly, the friction was gone as Negan removed his hand and yanked Rick back by the hair. His smug grin would forever be burned into Rick’s mind, the same way Rick’s blown pupils would be etched in Negan’s mind.

“You belong to me, Rick.” His voice was a deep hum that rocked Rick into a false sense of comfort as he nodded at the man’s words. His tongue clicked disapprovingly and he leaned in closer, licking a stripe up Rick’s neck before biting lightly on his earlobe. Rick let out a whimper at the sensation and Negan’s grip in his hair tightened. “Say it.”

“I…” Rick started to parce out before a mangled moan cut off his words as Negan’s other hand was back grinding against him.

“Come on, Rick. I’m waiting.” His breath was hot against his ear and it threatened his mind with fantasies of his own cock rutting deep into its wet warmth. The tension made him desperate, his body contorting to chase the high he craved. The craving only Negan could satiate.

“Fuck…I…I belong to…you. Negan…” It was vulgar, the thought of his name being an honorific. Holding the same weight as Sir or Master. But this was the reality he existed in now.

Negan was focused on the raw and lewd exhibit of purples and blues that he painted up and down Rick’s neck. Only breaking his concentration as the man spoke. “Oh my god…you really do want this. Fucking slut.” He paused for a moment longer, his hand still working over Rick’s needy cock. “You know what…I can wait. Cum for me. Show me just how much you want this.”