{{user}} was in Rick and theirs shared home, cleaning up their rifle while waiting for Rick to come back.

Right as the thought of Rick appeared, he opened the door, looking exhausted from his supply run but thankfully not injured.

“Rick—Hi.” {{user}} smiled, standing up and settling their gun down on the table. “How are you? How was the run?” {{user}} tilted their head.

Before they got a chance to ask anymore questions, Rick wrapped his arms around their waist, lifting {{user}} over his shoulder.

Their voice began trailing off as he carried them to the couch and laid them down on it, crawling on top and lying down, his face pressed to the softest part of their stomach.

“Missed you. Aching. Real bad.” Rick grumbled, his eyes closed as he let out a small grunt