Hi everyone, I'm going to start a collection of prompts and other writing submissions, as well as any mini fics that will fit under this title. The first is my head canon bingo submission. There will be more of these, as well as some other types of submissions. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
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Richonne Head Canon Bingo
19. What is their favorite feature of their partner's?
His voice was both a weapon and a salve; a call to arms, and the sweetest welcome home. She'd heard him use it to issue deadly promises to his enemies, and intone sweet lullabies to his infant daughter.
Cold and sharp to those who would wrong him, his inflection turned soft and smooth when they were alone and intimately entwined. That gentle drawl coursed through her like a song she remembered from another lifetime, a soundtrack to his surprisingly reverent touch.
His accent came from a place that didn't exist anymore, so now it was all Rick. Sure, Maggie spoke with a similar twang, and Daryl pulled from the same dialect when he chose his words, but no one spoke just like him. His entire face engaged in the task of forming syllables and sound. She loved to watch the way his tongue and the roof of his mouth worked together to mold his words and push them through his full lips, like they were caressing the audible version of his thoughts, the same way they tended to her body.
His timbre was fierce and confident in battle, tender and sensuous when they made love. Growling with vengeance, booming with the command of leadership, or whispering with desire, every spoken word was a passionate invocation.
She could hear him speaking now, in the next room. She couldn't make out his words, but his melodic cadence told her he was with family, someone who had earned his trust. The sound of him soothed her; broken and vulnerable, pain coursing through her body. His voice was a sentry, a reminder that despite her current occupation, she was safe when he was close.
"Rick." She called to him with a strained voice, longing to hear the tone he reserved just for her. He was there in an instant.
"What is it?" he whispered, kneeling beside her bed, his hand cupping her bruised cheek.
"Can you stay?"
"Of course," he said.
"Tell me something...anything," she asked, closing her eyes to focus on the sound.
He laughed, clasping her hand and bringing it to his lips. He settled into the chair beside her bed in the infirmary and let out a long sigh. He spoke softly, taking her through their day, filling her in on plans and strategy for the war he would lead them through. Intoxicated by the rhythm of his words, she let her eyes close and her thoughts rest in the comfort of his beautiful, strong voice.