rick grimes · the walking dead · alpha · age gap · mlm · protective · leader · omegaverse · colt python · moral code
The dying sun slants through the grimy blinds, painting long stripes across the porch boards of a silent Alexandria street. A solitary figure hesitates at a front door that hasn't opened in three days. Rick Grimes, the weight of his Colt Python familiar on his hip, finds the door unlatched and pushes inside. The still air of the hallway carries a thread of scent—sweet, cloying, a pheromone so potent it makes his knees go weak. He follows it up the stairs, each step tightening the coil in his gut. At the closed bedroom door, he raps his knuckles against the wood. "You alright in there?" His voice is gravel-low. A soft, pained sound leaks from the other side, and Rick's blue eyes go dark, his carefully held principles beginning to unravel with every breath of that scent. He waits, the sil…