[cherrycherrylady2024]

Hello my lovelies, long time no see! I'm working on the last installment of "Christmas with the Grimes", but in the meantime...how do we feel about a little Bullseye/Dex fic?

I'm obsessed with Daredevil: Born Again and I have so many ideas for both him and Matt (and maybe Frank too) so lmk

But do not fret, Christmas with the Grimes will be finished soon (: Just thought I'd try something new now that I have more free time!

(I graduated college yippeeee!)

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes

Note: Merry Christmas ya filthy animals! And yes...there will be another chapter...because I have no willpower

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 7.3k

Warnings/notes 18+ MDNI: NSFW, kissing, teasing, like lots of teasing, dirty talk, handjobs, fingering, dry humping/grinding, finger sucking, slight choking, edging, Rick being a hoe in the truck, exhibition/public sex kink if you squint? jealous(!) Rick, SHANE CAMEO WTF?!!! This chapter is so dirty there is...very little plot lol MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

Chapter 11: You’ll kill me if you stop

Closer. You needed to get closer. The world had melted away to a faint background hum, and all that was left was you and Rick. You felt suddenly feverish; maybe you were coming down with something. Ironic punishment. Or is it Karmic…? Either way, your nails grazed Rick's back, occasionally digging into his tanned skin to hear his delicious reaction. It was a mix between a low hum in his throat and a breathy groan, and you couldn’t get enough of it. Plus, he would shamelessly grind against you as you did so. God, this man was ridiculously enchanting. It’s like you’re under a spell when you’re around him. You wanted to rip his clothes off right here. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who felt that way. One of Rick’s hands had made its way back up your sweater, caressing your skin lovingly, while the other (which held your waist) had drifted down to allow a finger or two of his to dip beneath the waistline of your pajama pants. Just letting them rest there. As if he couldn’t get enough of your skin that was available for him to touch, so he had to seek out more. Greedyyy!

You were both breathing heavily, hungrily, but you couldn’t keep your mouths away from each other. Even if you both apshyxiated, it would be worth it to just kiss him one more time. You rutted your pelvis forward into him, but the parallel friction while you both stood didn’t keep you satisfied for very long. It wasn’t enough. You whined into Rick’s mouth, and, as if communicated telepathically, he picked you up. His hands slid to cup your ass before plopping you on the counter, deftly avoiding the mug of tea. Before you could even get comfortable, he roughly jerked you forward to the lip of the counter, so that you had the perfect–

“FUCK--!” you moaned, clutching at his curls. You were cut off by his ravenous kiss which swallowed the rest of your sentence. Your thin pajama pants left little to no barrier between your aching center and the rough denim of his jeans, covering his stiff cock just beneath. His hair was slightly damp from the sleet, a curl or two falling onto his rugged face. You moaned again into his mouth before he pulled away, keeping your foreheads together. His lips were parted, panting, as his icy eyes fucking BEAMED into yours. Everything about him was hypnotizing. You couldn’t keep your eyes off his pretty pink wetted lips, slightly pouted from your insatiable make out. They pursed as Rick uttered a soft but insistent, “Shhhh, babydoll. None ‘a that right now, okay?” You didn't immediately respond, your brain lagging like you were running on Windows 97. You just wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to be in his bed again. You began wondering how it could be possible to sneak up there right now. A quickie? Now that would be-

He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head, intensifying his gaze. Maybe he was a mind-reader. “Okay?” He repeated sternly.

Oh my god. “Yes sir,” you responded automatically.

You blinked. Hello? Who said that??? Not you!! In the .2 second it took for Rick to register what you’d said, your brain was already in a frenzy. Why did you say that? You could literally count on one hand how many times you’d said the word “sir” throughout your lifetime, and yet for some reason, right now is when it breached the surface of your brain and spilled out. Maybe it was the sheriff thing from earlier that put it in your head? Or just because he’s your friend's dad?

Or maybe you’re overthinking it.

Maybe you said Yes sir simply because he’s hot, giving you orders, and you appear to be in actual fucking heat.

A dry, humorless chuckle from Rick interrupted your thoughts. His expression was the furthest thing from humorous. His jaw clenched as he exhaled, a low growl in his throat, his eyes boring into yours. So… he liked it. DUH! AHHHHHH RICK GRIMES YOU FREAKY AHH!!!

“S’that what you’re callin’ me now, honey?” he smirked lightly, but his eyes were still locked on yours like he wanted to consume you. You forgot how to speak, your lips opened, but no sound eeked out. He snickered lowly, degradingly, and it was as if the gravelly vibrations went straight to your pussy. His crotch was still pressed against yours (his bulge rubbing against you perfectly, hence the earth-shattering FUCK you let out moments ago), and you were finding it difficult to stop your gyrations, however light they may be. You couldn’t help it; you needed more of him at all times.

Your heart was fluttering in your chest, beating against your ribs as if it was trying to get closer to him, too. “I like your lil’ names,” Rick whispered as he bent once more to kiss you, drawling out the vowels.

“It’s cute.”

His lips moved against yours. He was so close, but he cruelly left a centimeter or two to taunt you. It’s cute. Such a simple phrase, and yet it was absolutely dripping with condescension, sarcasm, and barely concealed lust. Like he was trying to get under your skin. Your cheeks flushed red as another small sound left your throat. You closed your eyes and bowed your head to face the ground, feeling like you might melt if you met his gaze. You could just hear the smirk in his tone as he hummed under his breath. It’s like you were under a microscope, a specimen for him to play with, experiment on, see what makes you tick. As if he didn’t already know.

“Oh, now you’re shy?”

Rick’s fingers lightly gripped your jaw, turning your face back to him. Your eyes were still downcast, though, feeling strangely overwhelmed. He bent slightly, the scratchy side of his face meeting yours as he whispered in your ear,

“Ya sure weren’t shy last night.”

He was egging you on. Breaking you. And, shocker, it was working. 

Rick was a man of few words, typically, so when he chose to use them like this, even the smallest things set you off. You fucking loved when he talked dirty. His little remarks, sometimes teasing, sometimes downright degrading, but paired with that shit-eating smirk and southern drawl. It made your face feel hot, your breath stutter in your throat, and your hips grind against him feverishly.

Your head nearly fell back in ecstasy as he roughly thrusted against you in surprising return. Even through both of your clothes, it’s like you could feel the outlines of his hard cock, the ones you had memorized so lovingly with your tongue the night prior. Your mouth watered involuntarily, and you swallowed thickly. Your lips brushed together once more, breathing in each other's air intimately, erotically, quietly panting, and groaning as you rutted against each other. You weren’t stopping, and neither was he. Jesus, you wanted to kiss him, though. As pretty as the sounds he was making were, you wanted nothing more than to lurch forward and envelope his lips with yours. So, you leaned forward slightly, going in for a kiss.

He pulled away, that fucking smirk lighting up his face.

Not this time, you thought. Your hand shot out, your fist now harshly gripping the material of his collar. Before he could say anything, you jerked him forward by his lapel, sending him tumbling against you. He groaned as your mouths harshly met once more. You kept his shirt balled up in your hand roughly, pulling at him desperately. Now forced even closer together, you both began to feverishly rut against one another. As if it were your first time again, that unrelenting shameless need growing like a bonfire between you. The sounds of your mouths echoed around the kitchen, and you silently prayed they didn’t make their way upstairs. With any luck, Judith was in her DayQuil coma right about now, oblivious to her father’s slutty little groans into your mouth. Your hunger was ceaseless; you couldn’t be closer if you tried. Well…with your clothes on.

You jerked at his collar again, hoping you weren’t (or lowkey were) choking him. He huffed against your lips, trailing off into nearly a whine. Chasing that intoxicating sound, you pulled the material just a little tighter until- 

RRRRRIPPPP! Your lips parted with a pop as you both pulled away, looking down in surprise. Either this was the cheapest shirt known to man, or you had Hulk strength. Zig-zagging along the seam of his collar before spreading to the material right under was a rough tear, virtually unfixable. You both stared at it for a moment, catching your breath. His eyes met yours as you both began to smile, then laugh lightly. “Oops,” you muttered non-comitally, releasing the fabric. You patted his chest where the rip was, and he chuckled again. A little bit of his skin was exposed through the tear, and you found yourself dragging your finger along it absentmindedly in the quiet moment. His skin was so warm. You could feel the hearty thrum of his heartbeat in the inch or two of his chest on display.

You leaned forward slightly, inhaling his scent before placing a kiss on his revealed skin. His chest rose as he took a much-needed deep breath. You moved to his neck, one of your hands finding his hair, tugging gently at first as you lightly kissed his throat. God, he smelled so good. You couldn’t help but lightly buck your hips as you inhaled. Sandalwood, musk, a little smoke, something heavy and spicy but not overbearing; all complementing the scent of snow and outside that clung to him warm skin. Snow has a smell!! 

He swallowed, then, his eyes drifting closed. This big ol’ country man with his strong arms, scruffy beard, and crazy hard cock pressed against you, totally under your control. It’s a nice feeling. As you kissed his neck again, deeper this time, his hips rocked into yours instinctually. You smiled, kissing him again and again. You let your teeth drag against his skin, feeling his rough hands grip your thighs with more ferocity. Maybe he’d leave a bruise, you hoped. Jesus, what the hell was going on with you? Were you ovulating or something??? If you weren’t so turned on, you’d be embarrassed; you were acting like an animal, you were–

“Fuck,” Rick groaned.

Your hand had slid down, cupping his bulge at the same time as you bit down harshly on his neck. You didn’t even have to think; it was like your hands and your mouth had a mind of their own, moving and sucking and palming instinctually. 

He wasn’t just letting you have control; he wanted you to.

You were frenzied in your movements, the urge to keep going overwhelming all of your own needs. You needed to feel him, and so you flew through the process of unbuttoning his jeans single-handedly, and slipping said hand down his pants. Ricks own hand flew to meet yours, and for a second you thought he’d push you away for having gone too far. But to your delight, he unabashedly helped you slip past his boxers, and you wasted no time in wrapping your hand around his aching cock. You were immediately met with a low moan from the man above you, as he rocked his hips into your grasp. “Oh jesus, y/n–” he began, only for it to trail off into a particularly whiny huff of air. He was so hard you almost felt bad for him. Almost. But, clearly, he was right where he wanted to be. You stroked him rhythmically, his sounds and breaths and the way his hands continued to explore your thighs with the strength of a swedish massage, were only turning you on further.

Rick was panting now, and you could feel his thumping heart beat beneath your lips, thrumming across his skin. He was hot to the touch, his groans becoming more and more breathy, needy—clawing their way out of his parted lips. You released the hold you had on his hair, bringing your grip around to his neck. Despite his immediate movement, this was not an invitation to kiss you. Not yet anyway. You slid your hand up to his jaw, wrapping your fingers around the underside, allowing for two of your digits to slip past his lips, hooking onto his teeth. You angled his head back again as you felt his teeth drag over your finger tips, before his warm mouth enveloped them fully. Glancing up at his beautiful face, there were simply no words to describe it… but here’s a few. His cheeks: flushed with color, his lips: wet and pink wrapped around your fingers, his eyes: fluttering as his brows knit together in ecstasy. His mouth fell open, releasing your fingers, as you continued to pump his heavy cock. You swipe your finger now and again over his sensitive tip, eliciting a shudder from Rick.

“G-gonna come if you keep doin’ th– ah–that, baby…” he could hardly finish a sentence, so it seemed like the perfect time to make him talk. Your free hand trailed across his chest, only flustering him further as you tugged at the rip in his collar, tearing it wider and slipping your fingers through. “What, this?” you emphasize by brushing your thumb over his head once more, causing him to buck his hips. “Y/n…”  he chuckled breathlessly, almost a warning. You played dumb. “Oh, do you want me to stop?” you slowed your movements but maintained pressure, and Rick swallowed thickly, cocking his head, his jaw set tight. He finally met your gaze, and in his blue irises was a craving so deep you could drown. A craving for you. 

Rick Grimes was a mess, clearly teetering on the brink, your taunts only edging him closer and closer. Contrasting your words, you picked up speed, “I guess we are in your kitchen. In broad daylight too. Plus the tea is getting cold…” Jesus what is up with you today? It’s giving dommy mommy vibes. Rick arched his brows and grit his teeth, almost as if in pain, “Don’t, I-” he trailed off. You’d never seen him like this. He was almost trembling with need beneath your touch. His free hands grabbed at your hips, disregarding any semblance of gentleness as his fists balled up the material of your clothes. Like you were a lifeline, the only thing to keep him from drifting off. He was making it too easy, though, with these fill-in-the-blank sentences, “Don’t what?” you prodded.

The world stilled as he met your eyes, and really, you didn’t even need him to speak. It was written all over his face. His voice was husky, dripping with lust, with need, almost hoarse:

 “Don’t stop. P-please. You’ll kill me if you stop.”

You could taste the words on his tongue as you crashed your lips into his, letting out a contented sigh as he groaned at the contact he’d been waiting for. Your forearm was getting the workout of a lifetime, yet as his breaths came harder and harder, you wished you could go on forever. Your mouth didn’t leave his, even when he couldn’t control the measured sounds that erupted forth; you swallowed them up greedily, chasing his lips. Finally his hips and groans began to stutter, and you felt proud as this grown man came undone under your touch. You continued stroking him as he came, those sexy noises morphing into heavy breaths when he finished. Neither of you had really thought through what happens next.

You each caught your breath, your foreheads pressed against eachother as you finally withdrew your sticky hand from his boxers. Rick kissed you then. A deep, passionate kiss, with so much left unsaid behind it. But the meaning was there. You both understood. There was no mistaking it.

It was love.

Your moment was cut short as reality hit, and white-hot fear crept sickly down your spine. It’s funny how arousal can dull your better judgment. BECAUSE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! It’s been at least 15 minutes since the tea was done, Judith could have come looking for it at any second. And what if-

“Honey? You okay?”EARTH TO Y/N, COME IN Y/N!!! Rick was studying your face, sensing the frenzy happening behind your eyes. You took a breath. There are things that could’ve happened, and there are things that didn’t happen. If they didn’t happen, then there’s no sense in worrying about what-ifs. Right? That seems right. You could envision a therapist saying that, which means you must be okay. Right?

“Yes sir I am,” you murmured playfully, mimicking his southern lilt, “Are you?” He laughed gently then, relief washing over the inkling of worry that had sprouted up across his handsome face. He buttoned his pants and made a face, shifting uncomfortably in his ruined boxers, “Never better.” You laughed in return and slid off the counter, suddenly becoming aware of just how wet your own undergarments were. Rick seemed, yet again, to read your mind as a knowing smile crept onto his face. “Aw, I’m sorry sweetheart…” he said soothingly. He stepped forward and wrapped you in a hug, letting his hands trail down your body. You inhaled sharply as his palm met your hip and his thumb brushed up against you inner thigh, gripping just enough to make your pussy twitch. “I was bein’ greedy, huh?” he murmured into your neck, planting a few kisses over your sensitive skin. You’d been so focused on him, you forgot how unbearably turned on you were. You could hardly speak, that fog of arousal was rolling in once more, filtering out the noise in your head. You pressed your body against his, leaning into the feeling. The only thing that broke through the brain fog like a shining beacon of sensibility was “Tea,” you groaned. Because you are incredibly brave and strong, you pulled yourself away from his warm embrace, pouting up at Rick through your lashes. He smiled in return, “I’ll make it up to ya.”

~~~

After nuking Judiths tea in the microwave, you carefully climbed the stairs with the steaming mug. You were relieved to find Judith’s door closed, blocking out any…sounds that came from the kitchen moments ago. In case she was sleeping, you gently opened the door. The tv was on, and Judith was technically awake, though she looked about a half second away from a catatonic NyQuil induced slumber. Rick had delivered her cough drops and cold medicine on the nightstand, and you pushed them aside to make room. She turned to you then and gave you a look, “I cannot believe my father.”

You froze momentarily. “You- what? What are you- what do you mean?” you stuttered out, obviously appearing calm, cool, and collected. Judith didn’t seem to notice, blame it on the NyQuil, as she stretched and reached for a tissue. She leaves you hanging as she blows her nose wetly. Finally, she gestures to the bag of cough drops, “Honey flavored. Eugh.” You breathed a sigh of relief, then chuckled, sitting on the edge of her bed, “Yeah ew, you need the berry ones with the streak. Wells I think. Oh my god, I used to eat those like candy.” Judith nods along. “Same, I don’t know why he’s trying to poison me” she groaned, snuggling deeper under her blankets. “On the bright side I think your congestion’s getting better, you don’t sound so dumb any more,” you joked, opening one of the honey cough drops to try. “Awww thanks,” Judith chuckled. You swish the honey cough drop around in your mouth. Yuck.

Just as you were about to spit it out, you hear Rick’s footsteps coming down the hallway. He raps his knuckles lightly on the door before poking his head in. He’s changed his clothes, now wearing just a grey t-shirt and jeans, and fucking pulling it off. “How’s my patient doing?” he asks. Judith lolls her head towards him, “So so good, but you got me the wrong cough drops.” Rick cocks an eyebrow, “What’s wrong with the honey ones? It’s all the same sugary junk anyway.” You laugh, talking through the cough drop still in your mouth, “It most certainly is not. These are gross.” Judith nods again, and Rick sighs like only a girl-dad does (I’m gonna do whatever you want, but I will complain about it and act like I don’t want to!)

 “Well I happen to like honey,” he says, popping one in his mouth. Any notion of spitting the cough drop out swiftly left your mind. Judith sighs dramatically, “Ok that’s fine, I guess you just want me to die of a sore throat. No biggie.” Rick gives Judith a look as a smile plays on his face, “Is this your way of telling me to go back to the store?”

“Maybe…” Judith replied. Rick sighs and nods, then turns to you, “Do you need anything while I’m there?” You thought for a moment, but, alas, you’re an expert packer and forgot nothing. “No I think I’m good.” Rick gave you a pointed, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it look, emphaizing his words just slightly, “Are ‘ya sure? I’m not going back a 3rd time.” You caught his drift, “Oh! Um actually, I do need some stuff. Do you mind if I just come with? I need some fresh air out of the sick bay…” Judith scoffed at your remark, then loudly blew her nose again as Rick smiled.

~~~

You changed quickly, putting on a matching bra and panty set beneath your thick sweater and jeans. It was no powder-blue negligee, but you had a suspicion,  based on the look in Rick's eye when you suggested going along, that he would not mind one bit. You still sucked on the cough drop, all the way downstairs to where you met Rick at the front door. He was pulling his jacket and hat on and watching you descend the steps. “The honey ones are gross, huh?” he teased. You smiled and crunched the cough drop loudly, “Disgusting.” 

Rick opened the front door, granting entry to a wave of frigid air that nearly knocked you off your feet. Suddenly, you had the distinct urge to run back to bed. Rick could certainly keep you warm. Shaking it off and pulling your coat on, you stepped outside, followed by Rick. You tried to keep your teeth from chattering all the way to his truck, but failed the moment the cold leather seat made contact with your thinly denim-covered ass. “Oooo fuck,” you winced, screwing your face up tight as if it would keep out the cold. You were absolutely frozen, hugging yourself for warmth to no avail. Suddenly, something soft and warm was plopped on your head unceremoniously, sending heat to your cold ears and cheeks. You opened your eyes, which were half blocked by the thick fur-trim of Rick’s hat. You shift to look at him. Hatless, he only turns the ignition, the truck purring to life. The unspoken domestic moment, along with the seriously insulated hat, melted away the freezing air at least for a little bit.

Do you think he’ll do the thing where– Rick slung his arm around the headrest of your seat, checking over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway. HELL YEAH!!! 

You nearly grinned at your wish coming true, but then again, of course he would do that. You stared at the side of his face, so focused on his task at hand; but all you could think about was tucking back the strands of his thick chestnut hair that had fallen when relinquishing his hat. He pulled out into the empty, powdered street and ground the old pick-up into drive. Though your upper body was warming up, jeans were clearly the wrong choice for this weather, and your legs nearly vibrated with cold shivers. You tried to take your mind off it, watching the picture-esque houses go by, but JESUS IT WAS FUCKING COLD HOW DO THEY LIVE LIKE THIS?! Though you had changed schools 5 times by the age of 16, you never lived anywhere with a lower temperature average than 50 degrees, so this was brutal. 

“You okay?” Rick’s southern twang quipped, bringing you back from your mental complaining. You turned to find him glancing at you, a small smirk on his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I-I’m fine,” you couldn’t control the shiver in your voice that Rick clearly heard. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, his warm hand situated itself on your frozen upper thigh, giving it a little squeeze before settling. You inhaled sharply, remembering just how needy you were from earlier - a fact that clearly had not slipped his mind. “Cold?”

You nodded feverishly. Oh Rick, how ever could you warm me up, I wonder??? His thumb absent-mindedly stroked your thigh before his touch departed. Thankfully, he returned only a second later, after turning the heat on full blast. His palm now rested strategically higher on your thigh, only an inch or two away from– before you could stop yourself, your hips shifted instinctively, towards his hand. You bit your lip, snapping your head to look out of the window, anywhere but Rick’s gaze, and surely, the smug smile that dripped from his voice as he teased, 

“You gonna be okay, honey? Or do we need to stop and get you warmed up?”

That, mixed with his pinky and ring finger extending the extra inch to rest on your aching pussy, was enough to make you swoon. You let out a shaky breath, glancing down at the sight of his thick, warm fingers gently tracing the material covering your slit. You expected to be met with his blue eyes studying yours, but instead, he was watching the road; his skilled fingers operating on a mind of their own. The fact that he wasn’t even looking, he just knew what he was doing to you, like it was so natural to him, oh GOD. Once again, your hips twitched, followed by your thighs clenching around his fingers, needing more friction. Your hand flew to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment. You sink into your seat, bringing his hand with you. He barely touched you. This was pathetic! “Sorry…” you murmured, looking anywhere but him or your lap. You swallowed thickly, pleading internally for more. 

“Why’re you sorry, baby? I’m the one who didn’t give my girl what she needs.”

…

Wow. A lot to unpack there. 

“Baby,” used outside the bedroom.

The teasing, giving you what you need. Oh, and “MY GIRL?!?!”

How could one person construe a sentence that makes you keel over like this? I mean, it’s really not fair. Before you could conjure up some retort, his fingers applied heavy rotating pressure right on your clit; the notch of your jeans only aiding him in his cruel endeavor. You moaned. Right there. In his ancient truck. With his fingers simply massaging your clothed pussy. The sound was partially obscured by your hand, but there was no doubt that Rick heard. And he probably fucking loved it. Loved the way you melted around him like silly putty. And, fuck it, you loved it too. Was it embarrassing sometimes to give in to him so easily? Sure. But it was also fucking freeing. Why pretend? 

You rocked your hips, purposefully this time, into his touch, letting out a breathy sound at the sensation. Fuck it! You lolled your head to look at him, nibbling your lip just slightly, widening your lust-filled eyes up at the older man. Your brows arched pleadingly, complementing the perfect crimson blush that spread across your cheeks. The heater only exacerbated the warmth you felt under Rick’s control, and you felt yourself starting to sweat lightly beneath your many layers. Maybe I should just take everything off, you thought, mindlessly writhing beneath Rick’s touch. Rick had just come to a red light, allowing him to look at you fully. You blinked slowly up at him, sinking deeper in your seat, your eyelashes fluttering closed in pleasure. Rick only watched, looking down his nose at you, a smile playing at his lips and a fire burning behind his eyes. Hopefully, you were out of view for the other cars, because this debauchery could surely count as public indecency.

The red stoplight glinted in his eyes as he watched you fall apart. You tried to swallow your words, but it was too easy to let them slip around him. Too natural. Too true. “Rick,” you gulped, “I-I want you to pull over.” You took a shaky breath, staring right back at him, “I need you to.”

The light turned green. Rick’s expression barely faltered, though you could see his mind working, his jaw clenched so tight he could snap a retainer. He sighed, studying your face, oblivious to the green light and the beeps! that rang out from the car behind you. Finally, though, he looked away, turning left at the light. “Okay, honey. I will.” You breathed a little sigh of relief; you needed him so bad it was consuming every rational thought in your mind. Quickly, you came to a stop, and Rick put the truck in park. He looked down and grinned at you. 

“Be right back.”

“Wait what-?” He opened his door and got out before you could even sit up. Where did he take you? What the fuck was he–? 

You were in a Walgreens parking lot. How romantic.

It was desolate. You scoffed, adjusting your jeans and exiting the truck as well. He was a few paces ahead of you, but you caught up quickly, following a trail of his quiet laughter. So pleased with himself. Asshole. As you reached Rick, you gave him a smack on the arm, half-meaning it, half-just wanting to touch him. He continued to snicker, shielding himself as you approached the store. Once you entered, though, his demeanor shifted. He was still smiling, that warmth radiating off of him, but it was like a small chasm had sunk in between you all a sudden. A mental space bubble, keeping you at arm's reach and no closer. No one else in their right mind would have noticed the small change, but, if you’re being honest, it stung a little. Simultaneously, he still smiled back at you, nodding to follow him. 

At least he wasn’t completely icing you out? That’s a low bar y/n. Well, yeah, but he is the sheriff's deputy, which probably comes with pressure in a small town. Also, you’re half his age. Not even. There’s that too. 

You followed Rick to the flu + cold aisle, astonished at the vast assortment of cough drops. “And you still picked honey?” you questioned, gesturing at the rainbow of flavors. Rick shrugged, “I’m old.” Oh god, he was, wasn’t he? That shouldn’t turn you on so much. But like, yeah, it does. It really does. As he searched for Judith's berry ones, “With the stripe,” as you reminded Rick, you strolled to the next aisle. Hopefully, this wouldn’t take too long; you were very eager to get back to the truck and finish what Rick infuriatingly started. Soap, shampoo, blah blah blah- oh! Well, how serendipitous, you thought, coming face to face with the…sex? section? Condoms, lube, Jesus even vibrators– they can sell that in Walgreens? You were distracted by the options.

Rick probably had condoms. Right? On the one hand, it might look strange when you come up to the cash register together, a box of Magnum Trojans in hand. On the other hand, if Rick had condoms, then that means he probably has a use for them; and the thought of Rick having sex with anyone else gave you an unpleasant drop in your stomach. You decided to stay on the safe side, selecting a tried and true brand. It wasn’t long until Rick’s boots thudded to a stop by your side, and his muttered voice reached your ears, “What are ‘ya doin’?”

You almost laughed. What did it look like you were doing? “Christmas shopping. You?” You could almost hear Rick grinding his teeth. He was giving you the side eye, then slid his gaze down to the package of condoms in your hand. “Put those back,” he stated. “Why?” you asked innocently. Rick’s eyes darted behind you for a second before returning to your gaze. He was checking if the coast was clear. Before you could overthink the obvious, Ricks finger tips grazed your own as he took them out of your hand and returned them to the shelf, “'Cause this kind’s better.” He selected another brand, taking it off the shelf and handing it to you, all in one fluid, practiced motion. Oh lord, he totally fucks, doesn’t he? Your stomach churns a little with that idea, and with the sight of Rick Grimes handing you condoms. Let’s be honest, a few days ago, you were pining for him, thinking your only chance was in your fucking dreams, and now we’re here! Yay! Stop-trying-to-ruin-everything-challenge y/n, Level: IMPOSSIBLE! You took the condoms from him, glancing at the box, as if your mind wasn’t going a mile a minute. Stop overthinking it. He’s a grown man, and he knows what he likes. Get over it. Because you really, really need to fuck–

“Rick?”

You saw the man before Rick turned, and soaked in his image instantaneously. Were all the middle-aged men in town hot? What is in the water here? Though the stranger was attractive in his own right, that’s not to say he and Rick looked anything alike. Where Rick’s eyes were a brilliant blue, this man's were an alluring deep brown. His skin was slightly olive, and his hair was thick and black. He was about the same height as Rick, but they held themselves very differently. He had a strong, chiseled face, with a nose that had clearly been broken more than a few times. But damn, did it look good on him. 

In the half-second before Rick turned, the stranger's eyes met yours for the first time. He quickly looked you up and down before returning his gaze to yours, a smile spreading across his face. There was something irrevocably handsome yet boyish about this man. The enticing nature of his smile, mixed with the mischievous twinkle in his eye, left you with a few butterflies in your stomach. You were still holding the condoms. Oh good! You weren’t sure whether to put them back, hide them, or do nothing. In the end, you dropped your arm to your side, but there was no hiding what you were holding. You were in the sex aisle after all. He didn’t drop your gaze, his eyebrow raising just slightly. God, this guy was-

“Shane!”

Shane, evidently. Yeah, he looked like a Shane. His smile grew wider as he strolled over to you two, his hand absentmindedly resting on his belt. Oh, that’s right. He’s in uniform. And not some goofy khaki shit, this was all-black, paired with a matching thick bomber jacket with a wool trim. His badge was pinned on it, right next to the breast pocket, which housed a pair of Ray-Bans. You tore your eyes away from Shane, directing your attention back to Rick. He was smiling, but there was something uneasy about the energy resonating off of him. Was he embarrassed?

Shane sidled up to you both, his grin poorly concealed. Being even closer made your butterflies erupt again. You studied the details of his face as he looked slowly between you and Rick, putting the dots together. Rick seemed to forget how to be normal for a second, resulting in a momentary awkward pause. I mean…this was kind of awkward. Rick cleared his throat, “Oh uh- Shane, this is Judith’s roommate, y/n. Y/N this is Shane, my partner.” Rick barely looked at you, all of his attention laser-focused on Shane. Was there something you weren’t seeing? “And best friend, Rick. Jeez” Shane replied playfully, before turning to you. 

“So you’re the one I heard so much about.” 

The air left your lungs. Rick…talked about you? At work? To Shane? You didn’t know whether to feel flattered or ashamed. What did Shane know? Is that why he was wearing such a shit-eating grin? Though truthfully, there was something about it working for you. The way he cocked his head, watching the blush spread across your cheeks.

“I-I guess so,” you chuckled weakly, feeling as if you were under a microscope with Shane's piercing gaze. Jesus, you were still holding the condoms. Maybe you should just run. Yeah, that might work! Shane smiled, “Don’t be embarrassed, ice skatin’ aint for everyone. Though I’m surprised Rick didn’t mention I was the captain of the–

Shane and Rick spoke simultaneously then, “All-state hockey team in high school.”

Rick rolled his eyes as he finished his friend's sentence. Shane chuckled deep in his chest, glancing at Rick. Something was going on between them. Some joke. Some look that you weren’t privy to. Also, there was a moment in which you had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. The events of these past few days make your tumble on the ice feel like a million years ago. Guess that's what Shane had heard about. Though the energy that danced between the 3 of you made you think there was something more. You could just imagine them in their squad car, Shane teasing Rick about you. Rick trying to change the subject. But Shane seems to be the kind of guy who could see right through anyone. Even Rick Grimes. Your imagination was interrupted by Shane’s deep drawl,

“Well, girl, if you need some lessons while yer here, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Gurl. Oh Bliiige. More’n happeh tah oh-bliige. His accent was a bit more pronounced than Rick's, and you began to wonder if there was a version of Rick that spoke that way, too. Maybe when they were shooting the shit in their cruiser. Or havin’ a drank. Or maybe when he was angry. Like, really angry. A shiver spread down your spine at the mental imagery. Girl, get a hold of yourself, you are in a Walgreens! To be honest, you could sense some anger reverberating off of Rick right now. Why would he be mad at you? You didn’t even do anything, but-

Everything became clear all of a sudden. It was obvious, if you weren’t so self-deprecating, you would know his anger wasn’t directed towards you.

Rick was jealous. Like, deeply, arousingly jealous. You couldn’t stop the nervous smile that spread across your face. You spoke without a second thought.

“Sure, I’ll give it a second try. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Shane’s face lit up, “Atta girl.” 

Rick was like a statue beside you. Maybe that was mean, making a promise you had no plan to fulfill, all to see Rick’s hands ball up into fists. But Rick deserved a little punishment for leaving you so needy for him. I mean, what's a girl to do? And ohhhh lord, was he jealous. He couldn’t possibly think you’d actually ditch him for Shane, though. Right?

“We’ll see. We’re kinda busy. Christmas stuff,” Rick stated gruffly, his eyes not leaving Shane. His partner seemed to take it in stride, as if Rick’s annoyance was his life force.

“Ah, I see that.”

Shane looked down at the condoms in your hand, but declined to say anything further. The meaning was there. You were about to respond, not actually sure what you were even gonna say, before Rick stepped forward slightly. There was some sorta weird male dominance BS happening; and as much as the idea of that is goofy, it was hot seeing Rick being territorial over you. Ooooooo he likes you! “We should get goin’, Judith ain’t feelin' well,” Rick didn’t give Shane a chance to respond before clapping him on the shoulder and breezing past him, “See ‘ya.” It was maybe the least friendly goodbye you’d ever heard, but Shane didn’t seem to care; his attention was still focused on you, even as you trailed after Rick. 

“Alright then. I’ll be seein’ you on the rink, sweetheart.”

You smiled widely and nodded, giving him a little wave goodbye. He smiled in return, and you spun back to follow Rick.

~~~

You were relieved when the teenager who rang up your items seemed too stoned to even notice the condoms as he bagged them. Saving you at least a little bit of your dignity. Not that you had much left. Rick didn’t speak as you walked back through the store. Or at checkout. Or in the parking lot. Maybe you should feel bad, or guilty, or nervous. Well, you did feel nervous, but only in the best way. You couldn’t wait to see what Rick would do, your imagination going wild. Rick slammed his door closed, maybe a little harder than the old door needed, before peeling out of the parking spot in one fluid motion. You look out of the window, concealing your smile, and counting down the seconds until–

“Shane’s a jackass,” Rick spat bitterly, almost to himself. You feigned innocence, “Really? He seemed nice to me. I thought you were friends?” Rick chuckled darkly, “Sure. We’re friends. He’s still a jackass.” You hmmed, not really responding, returning your gaze to the window. You could hear Rick's grip on the wheel straining, the truck chugging loudly as he hit the gas. 

“And you are not going ice-skating with him, y/n.”

You smiled, turning to him, “Oh, really?” Rick came to a stop sign, cocking his head to stare you down, “Really.” His demanding words (or word, really) sent tingles to your core, making you shift slightly in your seat. Rick took off again, gunning the engine. A lot of little quips came to mind, but you decided to let the subject lie. That is, until Rick slowed down, pulling into a hidden wooded thicket off the side of the road. He shut the engine off and unbuckled his seatbelt. If there was a plan here, you had no idea what it was. Rick ran a hand through his hair before turning to you. You would be a little afraid of the look in his eye if you weren’t mildly accustomed to it by now. Hunger. Of the most insatiable variety. You mimicked him, taking off your seatbelt, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. 

“Take off your jacket.”

There was a beat. A moment of unspoken desire that electrified the space between you. You slide your jacket off. 

“Take off your sweater.”

Your hands stumbled to the hem of your sweater, not thinking twice before slipping it over your head; even as the cold immediately seeped into your exposed skin. Rick’s eyes trail down your chest, taking his sweet time. 

“Take off your jeans.”

Humiliatingly, you did not put up a fight. Or even think of that as an option. You wanted him that badly. Rick just watched as you struggled to slip off your jeans in the small space you had. Though he hadn’t asked, you slipped off your winter boots as well, leaving you in the matching set you had lovingly selected. Rick drank it all in, his silence making you anxious. Please Rick.

“Come over here.”

***

notes: y'all deserve this XL chapter for being so patient!!! I hope you enjoyed (: I wrote this pretty fast so I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors. There will be another chapter...and maybe another after that who knows! XO

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes

Note: Hi guys long time no see haha so originally this was going to be the final chapter BUT I have so much more to explore in this fic so you can expect another chapter at least (: I hope you enjoy and that the wait was worth it!

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 4.8k

Warnings/notes 18+ MDNI: Angst (they have a fight omg omg omg), y/n is rly spiraling. Mentions of sex and oral sex bc duh! Sexual tension, secret relationship, BREAKUP?! Or maybe not who knows. Nipple play, neck biting, kissing, dirty talk, Rick has to make it up to y/n SOMEHOW! Lots of slutty (subby?) apologizing from Rick; my favorite part of this chapter personally (;

Chapter 10: Wanting

Jesus Christ. A deep sigh of relief slipped out of your chest before you could stop it. Luckily, it didn’t seem to disturb Rick as he quickly slipped out into the hallway, murmuring to his son, “It’ll be okay, Carl, let’s get ya back in bed.” The bedroom door clicked gently closed behind him, leaving you naked and alone in the darkness of Rick’s bedroom. You suddenly felt quite cold. You brought the covers to your chest. 

Your breath slowly returned to you as your heart rate decreased to a dull, unsatisfied thump in your chest. You had just come for God's sake, yet you had never felt so on edge. Like you were teetering on a cliff, awaiting… what exactly? The fuck were you supposed to do?

You weren’t sure whether to be embarrassed or just plain annoyed that the two of you had to stop AGAIN. He had finally agreed to fuck you. To be precise, you reminded yourself, his exact words were “Fuck your brains out.” Y’know, sure, maybe it was selfish of you, but sometimes it feels like every possible thing that can get in the way of you two does. Not to mention the 20+ year age gap. You sighed again and collapsed into the pillows. Staring at the ceiling, you began to feel that familiar pang of guilt in your chest, spreading throughout your body like a virus. You turned over, pushing away the feeling. 

Naturally, you turned to face yet another old family photo, framed on the wall. Rick, a younger Judith, baby Carl, and, of course, his wife. It was like she was staring into your soul. You groaned and turned the other direction. Why weren’t you allowed to have good things? It was so unfair. You’re a good person. Or at the very least, you try to be, and that’s a hell of a lot more than what most people can say about themselves. So why can’t the universe let me just fuck this man? You thought. I mean, what’s the big deal? 

…

What a preposterous question. Of course, it’s a big fucking deal, you remind yourself for the umpteenth time. Rick Grimes is your best friend AND ROOMATE’S father. Her loving, protective, sweet father... who, moments ago, had his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue–ENOUGH! You were going to drive yourself crazy. 

You stretch your body, your muscles starting to tense up in the aftermath of your orgasm. It feels like eons since he left. Realistically, it’s been maybe 5 minutes. What should you say when he comes back? Should you apologize??? Is it really even your fault? What if he doesn’t even bother coming back? You can easily imagine him dozing off in Carl’s bed, as he lulls his son back to sleep, leaving you alone to toil in your pity party, until you finally gather up enough courage to just go back to your room. It would probably take you an embarrassing amount of time. Even through the torment you were putting yourself through, you still couldn't get the idea of fucking him out of your head. At this point, you felt like a feral animal. It was embarrassing, really. He probably thinks you’re ridiculous. He probably-

Your tizzy was interrupted by the door slowly opening, revealing Rick.

He looked tired. He slowly entered, his feet shuffling against the floor as he closed the door and leaned against it. He rubbed his eyes, his back against the door. You sat up, holding the blankets to your chest. “I’m so sorry,” you blurted, unable to take the silence. He blinked and let his hand fall to his side, “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I shouldn’t be…. I shouldn’tve-” he trailed off. 

“Shouldn’t have what?” you prodded. Your voice sounded more panicked than it was intended, but you couldn’t help yourself from catastrophizing. You knew where this was going. What that meant. He means he shouldn’t have done this with you. He shouldn’t have brought you into his bed. He shouldn’t have even invited you to stay with them. You wanted to knock yourself upside the head. SHUT UP AND LET HIM SPEAK! You could very well be exacerbating this entire situation. But as his silence stretched, your mental spiral only picked up speed.

He must have never really wanted this. It was a huge mistake. You were a huge, hapless mistake. And he regrets choosing you. You must look like such a fool right now. Here you were, naked in his bed: a pathetic college girl, hellbent on wreaking havoc in his idyllic little life to get what you want. What is wrong with you? He only looked at you, his lips searching for the words. 

Suddenly, his gaze felt overbearing, crushing even. You couldn't take it, rolling your eyes petulantly to stare at your hands on the comforter. Maybe if you stared at it long enough, everything would be fine. It was cream-colored and puffy but crisp. The kind that never retains enough heat in the winter, and then makes you sweat in the summer. It smelled like him. Would you ever touch this comforter again?

“I think you should go to your own room,” he stated solemnly. 

An anvil dropped on your heart. His words hung in the air sickly as time seemed to stop.

You suddenly felt ill. Were you dreaming? Was this just a nightmare? You could barely bring yourself to move. You swallowed thickly, gritting your teeth. Using all of your willpower, you threw back the covers and slipped your house shoes on, your skin immediately prickling from the cold. You could feel his white-hot gaze on your body as you bent down to pick up your robe. You slipped it over yourself and tied it loosely, with shaking fingers. Forgoing the indignity of searching for your panties and negligee, you marched towards the door.

“Move, Rick,” you ordered. “Y/N-” he huffed, cocking his head, as if he hadn’t just destroyed you. He extended a hand, lightly grasping your arm, ostensibly trying to be soothing. Dick. His touch felt like a lick of flame; any more and it would consume you. You shrugged him off. “No. You don’t want me here, so I’ll go. Now, please, move.” You couldn't bring yourself to look at him as you spoke. He was still shirtless, and you tried to avoid eye contact with his broad chest or taut torso. Or the way his rough palms scraped against his coarse beard as he rubbed his face, exhausted. The way his boxers hung low on his stupid slutty hips. You had the overwhelming urge to either hit him or slip a hand down his boxers. Maybe both. “Y/N, you need to calm down,” he murmured, only enraging you further. “Calm down? No, Rick, I don’t think I will. What the fuck are we even doing here?” you snapped venomously. His eyes met yours, and you were surprised to see the pain that flickered across his face. Quickly, he steeled himself, and his gaze grew cold. 

“You’re right. Maybe this was a mistake.”

You fucking knew it.

You would’ve given anything for a quippy comeback, like in the movies or fanfictions, where you’re the dazzling protagonist with clever one-liners. But you realized that if you opened your mouth to speak, you would almost certainly cry. Fucking bastard. 

He stepped aside. 

You hesitated momentarily before wrenching the door open and exiting down the hallway towards your room. In the back of your mind, you imagined him longingly gazing after you as you strut down the hallway, wishing you’d turn right back around and come to him. One hand on the door, the other on his hip, regret seeping bitterly through his veins. Maybe even telling you to wait. But when you heard his bedroom door click closed only seconds after you exited, your face grew red in anger and embarrassment. You refused to look back; you couldn’t bear to see it.

By the time you reached your room, the tears had already begun to fall. 

~~~~

The grey morning light that seeped through your window, mixed with a rattling cough next door, was sobering. Judith was sick. Some cold or something, probably why she fell asleep so early the night before. Maybe you’d get sick too. Maybe you wouldn’t have to leave this room for the rest of the break. Maybe you could just be left to die alone in the guest bedroom! Okay, that’s a little too much. You wished for just a moment's reprieve, but your brain had already started working, remembering. It gave you a knot in your stomach to think about it. The look on his face as he said the one thing you’d feared most this entire time. Maybe this was a mistake.

You tried to relax, breathing deeply, shoving the thoughts from your mind. It didn’t help that you could distinctly make out the low vibrations of Rick's voice, emanating from Judith's room. You strained to make out a few words. “...fever?…flu shot-…. Ibuprofen… tea-…” etc. You found yourself wishing he were speaking to you. Seated at your bedside, his blue eyes gazing down at you, full of love and concern. His warm hand on your forehead.

You buried your head in the pillows and willed yourself to fall back asleep. 

~~~

By the time you had fully woken up, brushed your teeth, and decided you were starving enough to leave your room, it was 3:30 pm. The afternoon light was already fading to a deeper grey, and a mix of sleet and snow had begun to fall. Today was a sweater and pajama pants type of day. It was somewhat of a comfort that the weather complemented your mental state so perfectly.

You checked on Judith, keeping your distance. She was awake, doom scrolling, a tissue sprouting from one of her nostrils. “Oh, hello,” you said playfully. She let her phone drop to the bed, looking up at you grumpily, breathing through her mouth. The tissue wiggled as she talked. “Well, good borning! You look resded,” she sighed grumpily, her stuffy nose dampening her intonation. You smiled for the first time that morning. Afternoon. Whatever. You certainly didn’t feel rested. “And you look…so good,” you replied sarcastically. Judith laughed, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. After blowing her nose at both the volume and force of an exploding sun, “I know, right?” 

At least SHE was in high spirits.

~~~

You had offered to sit with Judith and watch something, but she ordered you downstairs for some more tea. Being the kind and caring friend who definitely did not hook up with Judith’s father last night, you scurried your ass down to the kitchen. Apparently, Rick had told her to quarantine in her room, which now made the rest of you her personal servants. Carl didn’t seem to be home, considering that you typically heard him before you saw him. Around every corner, you expected Rick to miraculously appear, causing your heart to race. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you saw him, his words still ringing harshly throughout your head. And yet that momentary flash of sorrow and pain that crossed his face when he thought that you didn’t want to be with him broke your heart. You hadn’t meant to end things between you, but it was completely fucking valid to question your circumstances. And that’s another thing, were you two actually over? Was there even anything to end? You imagined suffering through the rest of the break, avoiding him yet yearning for him to seek you out. No. You couldn’t go on like this; you’d rather go back to the fucking dorms at this point.

You had to make up, or that was that. 

You filled the electric kettle and flicked it on. Leaning against the counter, you tried to block the thoughts and memories from coursing through your brain. You were just exhausted at this point, both mentally and physically. A thought popped into your head.

Maybe I hate him.

You blinked at the idea. But can you hate someone and still want to have sex with them? Your brain responded, annoyingly. Still fantasize about them? Still wish he were here in the kitchen with you, pinning you against the counter? You huffed out a long and heavy sigh. The hardest part was that, besides the freaky stuff, you did actually care about him. Like… romantically. If you had just wanted the sex, it wouldn’t be this difficult. But there was a growing part of you that, though obviously impossible, imagined the two of you together. It was ridiculous, of course, but what’s the harm in imagining? Um, maybe because you’re driving yourself fucking insane? Still, though, you couldn’t help the anger that welled up inside of you. He had allowed this all—— no. He had ENCOURAGED this all to happen. That fucker. It was his fucking fault! He could have shut you down from the get-go. But nooooooooo, he was just as desperate as you were. Maybe more so! 

You didn’t notice the water had begun to boil, steam billowing from the spout. You fetched the tea bag and a cute green mug, then poured in the boiling water. As you did so, you decidedly realized that, yes, you can hate someone and still want to fuck them. But…you didn’t hate Rick. You couldn’t.

Last night was a shit show, but there had to be some way to fix it. 

You made yourself and Judith two nice, big sandwiches as the tea steeped. Adding milk and honey, you precariously carried the two plates and hot mug of tea towards the stairs. As you approached the front door, ready to turn towards the stairs, your mind began to wander.

Wouldn’t it be funny if-?

The front door swung open, the handle clanging against the previously dented wall. A tidal wave of freezing air and a few drops of ice-cold rain washed over you. That, combined with the surprise of your apparent fortune-telling abilities, caused your grip to fumble slightly, sending the nice hot mug of tea clattering to the floor. It promptly shattered, spraying ceramic all around your bare feet like little landmines. It went fucking everywhere. You had meant to wear your slippers, and your feet were already freezing. In the hubbub, you had barely taken note of Rick (because of course it was him!), framed in the doorway, bundled up so much so that you could hardly make him out. He quickly shuffled inside, closing the door firmly behind him. Seeing him now, all of your anger washes away. You just want to relax into his arms and be done with the stress and heartache. You just want to be with him. Even if you aren’t WITH him. Anything will do.

Shit, do you fucking love him?

He wrenched his scarf away from his face, “Jesus- sorry I-” he huffed, out of breath. “Datd bedder dot hab been by tea!” Judith exclaimed from upstairs. You couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle, shifting your feet slightly. “Hey-!” Rick reached out a hand to stop you, but, being you, you stepped away from his grip, only succeeding in stepping on more shards. “Shit!” you yelped. You jerked your foot away in pain, allowing the other to dig into the broken pieces, making you jump again. “Just-  stay where you are- stop moving,” he commanded. You froze, the tone of his voice all business. 

Is this his sheriff voice? Why’s it kinda- Your thoughts were cut off as he took the plates out of your hand, setting them on a nearby end table. He set down the plastic drugstore bag he had arrived with too, likely filled with cough drops and Vapo-rub. “Id everyding okay down dere?” Judith sniffled, more concerned from upstairs. “It’s fine, Judith, I got the cough drops ya like,” Rick responded quickly. Judith responded with a lackluster, "Yay."

You whimpered slightly, feeling the sharp pain of the ceramic in the sole of your foot. All of the air left the room for a second as Rick’s eyes, so icy blue it made you shiver, met yours intently. Just from the little noise you made. Oh my god oh my god oh my god think of something to say, think of something to say, think of something to say, something clever and hot and cool and just please GOD JUST THINK OF SOMETHING!!!!!!!

“Hi,” you whispered breathily. 

Jesus Christ. Somehow, Rick seemed caught off guard, and before he could help himself, the corners of his mouth crinkled into his signature smile. Oh god. “Hi,” he responded, “Just hold on, ‘kay?” You nodded and tensed up as his arms wrapped around you. “1…2…3,” he counted down before hoisting you up and into the air. You couldn’t help but yelp at his ever-surprising strength. “I gotcha, don’t worry honey,” he murmured, his hand wrapping around your legs, holding you bridal-style. Honey honey honey honey honey. His southernisms never failed to make your knees weak. He brought you to the kitchen. Why does it always have to be the kitchen? He set you gently on the counter, then proceeded to take off his hat, jacket, and gloves, leaving his heavy boots on. His cheeks were rosy, his hair tousled, his hands freezing as they gripped your leg. You yelped again, causing him to smile wryly without looking up, “Sorry,” he muttered. It’s actually cruel how sexy he is. He’s down on one knee, staring and inspecting the sole of your foot like it was the Mona Lisa. You swallowed hard, “It doesn’t really hurt.”

He glanced up at you, incredulous, “You have a piece of my favorite mug lodged in your foot, honey.”

Could you actually do nothing right? Hot tip: if you want someone to like you, maybe don't shatter THEIR GODDAMN FAVORITE MUG OH MY GOD. “Oh–I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” you stuttered. He didn’t respond, save for a soft glance and smile up to you, causing your heart to skip a beat. If he was still prickly about last night, he certainly didn’t show it. He retrieved the first aid kit once more, deja vu much? 

After plucking the, albeit small, piece of ceramic from your foot, he applied some Neosporin and a bandage. He patched up the few other small cuts, inspected his work, then stood and offered you his hand. Is it normal to sorta wanna be injured all the time so he could take care of you…?

No, no it is not.

“Thanks,” you said, slipping off the counter nimbly. You weren’t but a foot apart, and you could feel his gaze burning down at you. “I-I’ll make some more tea,” you mumbled, turning away. With a low hum, he stepped back as well. You tried to steady your breathing. In 2- 3- 4 hold 2- 3- 4- out 2- 3- 4- With shaky hands, you retrieved another mug from the back of the cabinet this time and steeped some more tea with the remaining hot water. Rick had retrieved a broom and pan from the hall closet, and you could hear the clinking of the ceramic pieces as he brushed them off the floor. In 2- 3- 4 hold 2- 3- 4- out 2- 3- 4- You stood frozen in the kitchen, unsure of what to do while the tea steeped.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Rick returned to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, surveying you. You turned away from him, stirring the honey into the tea as you made intense eye contact with the granite countertop. Your cheeks already felt red. The fuck is he doing? You were starting to feel that flutter of hope returning, the way his cold hands caressed your calf, the way he easily lifted you up and away from the broken mug, the way you could FUCKING FEEL HIM STARING AT YOU RIGHT NOW!!!! I mean, Jesus Christ, what was his goal here? What was-

You were so caught up in your own head, unaware as he crossed the kitchen to stand directly behind you. Your only clue came when you suddenly felt his cold fingers graze the side of your neck as he tucked your hair away. You quickly inhaled, his touch never failing to shock you. In 2- 6- 4 hold wait  2- 12- 9- out 2- 6?- 4- % 

BREATHE BITCH!!

Before you knew it, his lips were nearly a centimeter away from your ear, “I’m sorry, honey.” Before you could respond, his lips met the tender skin of your neck, and you shivered. It was a slow kiss, his pink, slightly cold lips warming against you as goosebumps erupted across your flesh. “I’m sorry…” he whispered, kissing you again. Unlike yours, his breath was slow and steady, like this was the most natural thing in the world. You couldn’t help but remember your dream from the first night, and felt the sudden urge to tell him all about it. 

How clairvoyant you are! 

 You began to relax into it, clenching your thighs together, unbearably turned on by his simple ministrations. He continued to murmur apologies as his mouth made its way down your neck to your shoulder. His hands had snaked around your stomach, gripping you gently in place. His fingers explored slightly, enough that you could push him away with ease. Maybe he really thought you would. If he did, he was seriously overestimating your willpower. You steadied yourself with one hand on the counter, the other found his and you lightly interlaced your fingers. He sighed into your shoulder, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think it was a sigh of relief. “Your hands are so cold,” you murmured... Bella Swan is that you? SHUT UP CAN YOU PLEASE JUST-

“Mmm,” he hummed, moving to the other side of your neck. His body was now completely wrapped around you, his large frame enveloping yours, getting as close as humanly possible without crawling into your skin. You felt penned in, but in the best way possible. He must know that Judith could walk down at any minute, right? Or Carl? Where the Hell was he? As your anxiety threatened to ruin the moment, it dawned on you that this was the first time either of you had done anything like this in the light of day. Before now, it felt like a dirty secret relegated to the shadows of 2 AM. But this was…shameless. Maybe he really didn’t care anymore. Maybe you don’t either.

Maybe you’d both outgrown it. 

You slipped his hands beneath your sweater, and he heaved a warm, contented sigh into your neck. You began to smile, drawing his hands around your warm stomach, leading them up to your naked breasts. He immediately cupped his hands around them, groaning lowly, and deepening his kisses on your neck. He must be really, really sorry. How could he possibly ever make it up to you? Your smile widened. 

He continued to ramble, mostly apologies, some praise, some expletives. His tongue and teeth lightly grazed your skin, enough to clearly be purposeful, but not overboard. He was obviously sorry about last night, but you began to wonder if he may even be apologizing for what he’s doing right now. Not in a regretful way, but almost desperate. Like the only thing he can do is apologize, because he knows he has no control over himself anymore. God, that’s so fucking hot. You shuddered, clenching your thighs harder, pressing back into his hips. He returned the gesture, rocking his own hips into your ass, just enough to make you bite back a moan. You were transported once more to your dream, and you closed your eyes, trying to remember. 

“Y/n,” he muttered, snapping you out of your daydream. His grip tightened slightly on you, “I need ‘ya to know that I didn’t mean what I said last night. ‘Bout this being-” You interrupted him “A mistake?” He huffed and buried his face in your neck, making you giggle. “Yeah, that. I’m sorry, honey.” You smiled and stroked his hand. He was using his sexy voice (which could quite possibly just be his normal voice), but the twinge of remorse was enough to make you (or anybody) swoon. “I forgive you, Rick.” He let out a deep breath that you hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and he squeezed you into a crushing hug. You laughed lightly again; it felt like a weight had been lifted. “Now, how are you gonna make it up to me?” You questioned playfully. He laughed, “Didn’t ya already forgive me? That’s not how that works.” Off your tempestuous glance, he changed his mind. His tone softened even further, turning almost submissive. 

“Please, what can I do baby?” 

God, he’s good.

You sighed, heat rising in your cheeks.

"I'll do anything. Anything 'ya want," he continued. He knew just how to push all your buttons. That gravelly voice, begging to please you. To do anything. With his accent it was more like anythang. He continued to stroke your skin, his fingers grazing over your perked nipples now and again. You swallowed a moan poorly and felt him smile against your neck. “That’s a good start,” you whisper, arching your back into his touch.

As men so often do when you express that they’re doing something well, he stopped.

His hands withdrew to your waist, and before you knew it, he had turned you around to face him, your back pressed into the counter. You would’ve been annoyed had he not been a) Rick Grimes, b) looking down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Like he’d do anythang for you. He really would. 

Before you could get a word out, he bent at the knee, his hands still around your waist beneath your oversize sweater. Without grandeur, the man ducked his head into the garment, coming face to face with your naked stomach. It was a little silly, his head vanishing beneath your sweater, but there was nothing funny about the way his lips caressed your skin. The way his beard tickles you slightly as he moves up towards your breasts. His breath came quickly against your skin as he grew more ravenous. You swallowed thickly, your head lolling back as your eyes closed. His hands held you in place as his tongue found your hardened nipple, and sucked it greedily into his warm mouth. Your exhalation turned into a whiny moan as he did so, and you bit your lip to quiet yourself.

As if he heard nothing at all, he continued to suck at your tit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. The wet sounds made against your skin were muffled slightly by your sweater, but reached your ears nonetheless. It was pornographic. His mouth traced over your skin, moving slowly to your other breast. This time, he let his teeth run along the soft indentations of your skin, eliciting a breathy whine from your throat.

He gripped you tighter, and you wondered if his fingers would leave impressions in your skin. Grooves, maybe, a personalized etching of his hands on your hips. Where they always should be. Where he can slide right into place. 

“Rick,” you whispered dreamily, almost to yourself. “Hm,” he replied casually, his mouth sucking on your sensitive skin. You nearly gasped when his teeth came down on the plush side of your breast, nipping hungrily.

“Kiss me.”

He obeyed, trailing a few wet kisses down your stomach, before reappearing from beneath your sweater. His cheeks were flushed, his lips wet and panting, his pupils blown, his curls a mess. There is a finite number of words in the English language that can describe his beauty; most of them don’t even do him justice. But you don’t need words. All you need is him, looking down at you like he is now, your eyes communicating with each other on their own. He stepped closer, his body parting your legs like a hot knife through butter. In such close quarters, you could feel the puffs of air he exhaled as he waited for you to make your move. Innocently, you reached to tuck a curl back into place. Before you could, his hand gripped your wrist speedily, stopping you, “Leave it.” His husky voice reverberated around your eardrums, like a siren song clawing its way into your brain.

He pulled you in by your forearm, and your lips crashed together. 

The last time you had kissed was literally last night, and yet this felt like something different. Something even more real. You had made it through an argument for the first time, and you still came back to each other. It had to mean something, right? His other hand found your waist, pulling you in somehow closer. Your mouths danced in tandem, as if from years of experience. Like you knew each other to the core. Your face would probably be red from his scruff scraping hungrily against you, but who the fuck cares? Nothing in the world mattered anymore. Your tongues slid against one another, licking and biting and sucking. Anything to get more. More. More. MORE! You could get lost like this. Your mouths consuming each other, your hands slipping beneath his shirt, grabbing at his back, his chest, his neck, his torso, anything ANYTHING to bring him closer. Groping his broad shoulders, you wanted to climb his hard, strong body.

You wanted to squeeze him. Scratch him. Kiss him. Love him. Bite him. It didn’t feel real. You wanted. 

And you wanted so fucking badly.

***

Notes: Yayyyyyy I'm so glad I finally finished this chapter, and I hope you guys like it! Let me know if y'all have any suggestions or anything, and I'm hoping to post the next chapter soon!

[cherrycherrylady2024]

CHAPTER 10 IS INCOMING!!! Batten down the hatches y’all, shits bout to get real 😏 (sorry it’s been like 4 months 🙂)

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes

Note: GUYS I'm so sorry for being MIA I don't have any excuses but I really hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm planning the next one already :,)

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 4.7k

Warnings/notes 18+ MDNI: SLIGHT somnophilia but not rly Rick just gets a boner while he's dreaming, teasing, biting, orgasm denial? lingerie, fingering, kissing, making out, dry humping/grinding, finger sucking, oral sex F/receiving, slight hair pulling, nipple play, thigh riding, restraint, masturbation, praise, degradation, slight choking, dirty filthy talk lol, language, little dom/sub play? idk. orgasm interruption, secret relationship, caught in the act, they want each other so bad. Ummmm i think thats it this chapter is very tense/full of teasing mhm yeah ik thats right! Might be my fav so far <3

Chapter 9: Because

You didn’t know how long you were out for. As you groggily opened your eyes, you took in your surroundings. It was still nighttime, and you could see the outline of the moon from Rick’s semi-sheer curtains. Rick’s curtains… you were in Rick’s room. You were in Ricks bed. With him. Spooning. SPOONING! That warm heavy feeling against your back was Rick’s body against yours. That long manly arm was Rick’s. And that bulge jutting gently against your ass was also his. Your eyes opened wide. He was rock hard. You immediately felt a tingling warmth pooling in your core. You had half a mind to wonder if this was another dream. Really, it’s a little too good to be true, isn't it? Here you were, tucked into Rick Grimes’ messy queen bed, still spent from your last orgasm but eagerly anticipating your next. This is insane. And yet, that feeling of Rick up against you told you that this had to be real; your brain couldn’t dream up something that sweet.

Rick mumbled sleepily, shifting slightly against you. His hand slid down to your waist, and his hips pressed into yours absent-mindedly. Your heart fluttered in excitement: you had woken up just in time for round two. Except Ricks slow and steady breathing was a pretty immediate tell: he was asleep. You sighed quietly and closed your eyes. You couldn't imagine you'd be able to fall back asleep but if he was asleep then- “Mm…” he mumbled against your hair, rocking his hips into yours again. Was he? You instinctually returned the movement, gently grinding your ass against his crotch. He let out a low, breathy, groan at the feeling, then returned to his slow and steady breathing. He was asleep. He had to be. And he was dreaming about– “Y/n,” he groaned. Your breath hitched in your throat as his movements stilled again.

He was asleep, and he was dreaming about you. 

You should stop. Probably. Or wake him up. It was the right thing to do. But… to your surprise, it was turning you on. There was something incredibly erotic about it. You had had a sex dream about him, and it drove you nuts. Now here he was, having the same thing; except this time you got to experience it with him. You might as well make it a really, really, good dream. You pressed against him again, eliciting a surprising whimper from his throat immediately. He gripped your waist, his erection solid against your ass. A small smile spread across your face. You wondered how long it’d take for him to wake up. You could feel his breaths against your neck, picking up speed as you ground against him again with more intensity. Though you had only had his cock in your mouth a few hours earlier, it was nevertheless surprising just how thick and imposing it felt grinding into the soft flesh of your ass. It sent a shiver down your spine. You went on like this for a few moments, grinding against each other shamelessly. It was amazing, he could literally do this in his sleep. Finally, you began to slide your hand down to your panties, needing more friction. Just as you breached your satin waistline, a warm hand gently nudged yours out of the way, and plunged in between your legs, wrapping around your needy cunt.

You gasped, he was awake. When had he-?

“Rick-oh-I thought you were–” you muttered breathily, still a little shocked. You felt heat rise in your cheeks, a little embarrassed at your behavior. He didn't seem to mind though. Not one bit. You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. He applied gentle pressure, enough for you to grind your hips into and nothing more. “I was havin’ the most amazing dream,” he whispered huskily into your ear, his voice dripping with sleep, “And now it seems its comin’ true. I’m a lucky guy, huh?” God, his deep sleepy voice, his sarcastic tone, the way his breathing picked up as you ground into his hand with a moan; it really was a dream come true. The past few days (Jesus, days?? ONLY DAYS??!) were simply unbelievable. He wasn’t the only lucky one here. All concerns, worries, and fears drifted away from your mind. Maybe it was simply the feeling of his body against yours, but you felt like everything was right in the world. Like you were in a warm embrace. Like everything would be okay. You took a leap.

“Rick,” you whispered, “I want you to fuck me. I need you to. Please.”

The weight of your spoken words sat heavy in the air. There was a brief pause in Ricks movements against you, but his hand still rested heavily against your clothed pussy. You bit your lip, moving your hips slightly into his hand to get some sort of relief. He breathed deeply, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind. Before you could panic, to your surprise, he pressed himself harder against you. You couldn’t help yourself. A whine left your lips as his middle and index finger suddenly found your clit through the fabric of your panties and began rubbing ever ever so gently. It was torturous. You tried to buck your hips but he held you in place. As his fingers traced your clit, light as a feather, he moved his lips against the shell of your ear. 

“And why should I?”

Your mouth fell open. You could feel his piercing gaze, though you were facing the other direction. Was that a rhetorical question? Did he want an actual answer? His lips found your naked shoulder, and he left a soft kiss before nipping at your skin with surprising intensity. “Ah!- B-because…” you exclaimed, trailing off as he kissed the spot once more, and moved onto another. “Because?” he prompted. “Because I want you to?” you answered half-heartedly. Of course you wanted him to, he already knew that. DUH! Clearly, your answer was wrong. He left a final kiss and you could feel him smile against your shoulder, he tsked, “Not good enough.” And with that, his lips left your shoulder, his fingers left your pussy, and his body ceased pressing into yours. He rolled away.

That fucker Rolled. Away.

The loss of contact made your brain short-circuit for a moment before you sat up hurriedly. He was on his right side now, his shoulders shaking lightly. He was laughing. That motherfucker. “Hey!” you exclaimed, grabbing his shoulder. His smile was contagious as he rolled onto his back, looking up at you. He still snickered lightly, his pretty blue eyes twinkling through his lashes. He was hypnotizing. Almost instinctively, you bowed your head and kissed him. It wasn’t hungry or desperate as your kisses had been before, it was soft and sweet. It was romantic. His hand came up to lace his fingers gently through your hair. He deepened the kiss, bringing his other hand to cup your face and draw you closer. After a moment you pulled away, and swung your leg over him, sitting on his lap in one fluid motion. His breathing hitched as your warm center made contact with his cock, straining in his boxers. His eyes flicked down, engrossed in where your bodies met, and noticed the wet spot that had formed on your underwear. He swallowed thickly, distracted. You tilted his chin up to meet your eye, greeting his gaze with an award-winning smile. You stroked his face gently, letting your thumb wander over his lips. You were pleased to see him immediately part them, kissing your fingertip. You dragged his lip down, watching hungrily as his mouth followed your touch. Your other hand rested on his chest, stroking the hard lines of his abdomen, and he gripped your thighs tensely. His teeth came to nip at your fingertip playfully, his tongue following behind to coax it further into his mouth.

Slut!

“See Rick,” you spoke, “I could give you a list. It started the day I met you.” He smiled indulgently, but you could see the hunger behind his eyes. “Is that so?” he huffed around your thumb. “Mhm,” you replied with a roll of your hips, moving your hand from his mouth to his jaw. He groaned then, but bit his lip, trying to quiet himself. You thought about trying to hide the smirk that danced across your face, but… fuck it. “But do you know what the most compelling reason is? Why you should fuck me?” you emphasized this with another roll of your hips, grinding cruelly down onto his hard cock. His eyes squeezed shut momentarily as his hips involuntarily bucked against you, “Ah–Christ.” His jaw tensed as he swallowed and cleared his throat, returning your gaze again. “Why? Why should I fuck you, y/n?” he breathed, eyes full of lust and desperation. Your hand had now wandered to his neck, and you applied gentle but firm pressure. Enough to know you were doing it on purpose. Enough to light a fire behind Ricks eyes. Enough to feel a tiny whine slip out of his throat. You smugly lowered yourself to his eye level, nose to nose. You took your time, glancing between his pretty wide eyes and eager lips before speaking. You pressed your hips roughly down upon his and spoke, as sultry as you could, “Because you want to.” 

You had hardly finished your sentence when his mouth crashed into yours, easily breaking free of the hold you had on his neck. You smiled against his lips, gotcha. He sat up abruptly, keeping your lips connected. You still straddled him, chest to chest, but this way he had a bit more control. And, boy, did he take that to his advantage. He ground himself against you almost brutally, desperately. And it felt so good. You moaned loudly into his mouth as he bucked into you particularly rambunctiously. His hand gripped your hip, and the other grabbed your hair, pulling your head back to look at him. “You talk a good game. But, how am I ‘sposed to fuck you if you can’t keep quiet?” he taunted disparagingly.

The control he had on you was absurd. Just a few little words in that gravelly fucking accent and you were like silly putty in his hands. There was part of you that wanted to draw more out of him. More teasing words. Something dirty. Degrading. You bet he could do it. There was a little spark you could feel in his words, anytime he played with you like that. You wonder how far you could push him. But that would have to be later. You whimpered, his cock just felt too good against your pussy; you had to know what it felt like inside. You’d do anything. “Rick,” you begged, “I’ll be quiet. I’ll- I’ll do anything. Please.” He seemed to think a moment, weighing his options. You shamelessly rocked your hips against him a few times, drawing his attention back. He sighed and leaned forward, kissing your neck. His beard scraped your skin tantalizingly as your eyes fluttered closed. You bit your lip to keep any sounds from escaping. His wet soft lips explored your throat, leaving kisses, and sucking on the sensitive skin. You squirmed underneath him. 

As if absent-mindedly, in between kisses, “You drive me fuckin crazy, y’know that?” You nearly cried out when his thumb met your clit and began stroking, using your wetness for lubrication. If that weren’t enough, his middle and index finger gently fingered your hole, barely dipping in before coming back out. Clearly, he was trying to kill you. How had he slipped into your underwear so fast? He smiled against your throat. “Of course, you know that. You do it on purpose don't ‘ya?” His words melted you even further. You didn't respond, only whimpering underneath his touch as his fingers gently probed deeper, his thumb still encircling your clit. His grip on your hair tightened and he craned your neck back further, forcing you to look down your nose at his smirking face. He cocked his head, “Don't ya?” he repeated pointedly.

Fucking christ it was hot. It was incredible how fast he could change. Moments ago he was underneath you, puppy dog eyes begging for your touch, sucking on your finger like a blow pop. Now he was cruelly taunting you, those same eyes now steely and seductive. Pulling your hair, coaxing you to do what he wants. You got the best of both worlds. Damn you were lucky. His thumb brushed your clit with more intensity and you breathed sharply, nodding quickly, as much as his grip would allow you to. “I do–Mmh–I do,” you whispered desperately. “Because?” he questioned. You swallowed as his eyes searched your face. That asshole knew the answer. It was crystal clear. You had even already said it. He just wanted to hear it again. You wet your lips, thinking. You’d give him this one. You met his eyes. 

“Because I want you to fuck me. I want you so badly it drives me crazy. I need you inside me. I-I want to feel you. Please. I want you to ruin me, Rick.” 

Rick smiled lightly, satisfied. 

~RICK~

Of course, Rick knew all this. He was just fucking with you. He liked to watch you squirm, and he knew you liked it too. He knew what you wanted. He knew it the moment you two began this whole… thang. But... hearing it straight from your freshly kissed lips was something else entirely. He had wanted to wait. He should wait. Wait until… when? He wasn’t sure. Really, there would never be a perfect opportunity. He worked long hours at a demanding job and in his ‘spare time’ he had a damn household to run. There wasn’t much time for affairs with pretty young things like you, so he had to make it work. Each time you’d encountered each other, he had to restrain himself from taking that next step. Leap, really. But god, how he wanted to. He thought all day long about the pretty sounds you’d make. The way your perfect pussy would stretch around his cock. The way your eyes would roll back as he made you come. In his bed. In the shower. Bent over the counter. In his truck. Hell, even at his desk at the Sheriff's office. You had infected his mind. And to hear you say– no, beg. To hear you beg for him was all too much. It was dangerous territory. A point of no return. 

But, really, who was he kidding? It was always going to go this way. The second he met you, when he saw that fucking look on your face. The way you reacted when he barely grazed your soft skin, or got a step closer while speaking. He saw what you were doing. He saw how he affected you. He wasn't blind, and he wasn't dumb. He was a cop for gods sake, he could tell when people were hiding something. It always was gonna happen. You sure as shit knew it, and though he tried to convince himself he was better than that…he wasn’t. He knew he was a good man, but this? It was wrong, it was shameful, to be indulging in something like this with someone like you. What was he thinking? Had you broken something in him, or, worse, was it always there? Though Rick would never admit it, deep down he knew: it made it so much hotter. It was wrong, it was shameful, and besides how much he had come to genuinely care for you, that was almost the best part. It kept him up at night. He was twice your age. And you still wanted him. You. This beautiful, smart, funny, girl. Maybe he was always broken, but maybe you were too. Maybe you were both fucked up. Maybe he could live with that. 

~YOU~

For a second, it seemed Rick had gone somewhere else, like his mind had wandered. But then, quick as a flash, he was back. He took in your features, and dragged his fingers through your hair soothingly. His other hand left your pussy and ran up your body to your waist. 

“Okay, honey. I will.”

You hadn’t really thought he’d refuse, but still, a breath of relief left your lips. You lurched forward to kiss him, all the while thinking Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. If you had been in your right mind, you would’ve chastised yourself for how pathetic you sound. But this was different. Rick had infected your mind. You didn’t care anymore. He kissed you back and stood, picking you up with ease. He planted his hands securely on your ass, lifting you high as you entwined your legs around him. He slowly turned around, still holding you, and laid you gently on your back on the bed, his lips never leaving yours. You didn’t release him from the iron grip of your legs, instead pulling him in deeper. You had started slow and deliberate, but now you both picked up the pace. His beard scratched your face, your fingers raked through his thick hair, and he rocked his hips into yours once more. The room felt hot. Your body was on fire, and it didn't help that Ricks warm figure was so close to your own. You finally broke away from the kiss, basking in the look on Ricks faced, his cheeks flushed, lips parted. You lifted your negligee up and over your head, Ricks hands deftly helping to pull it away. Though the negligee was light, you still felt a little cooler the second the warm fabric was stripped away. Your nipples hardened in the night air, your body not able to decide if you were ice cold or burning hot. Well, you knew where you were burning hot. Though only a brief amount of time had passed since you both woke up, the teasing and grinding and kissing and fucking taunting made it feel like hours. Your poor pussy was aching for more, and you desperately needed your underwear off, stat. After a low groan at the sight, Rick’s mouth immediately moved to your nipple, licking and sucking gently. You arched your back needily, pressing in for more.

His hand found yours, interlacing your fingers, he pinned it down to the bed. Just the subtle display of his strength made you ridiculously weak and you pressed your thighs together. Rick expertly knocked them apart with his knee, and slid in his thigh to press against your crotch. He didn't even need to look up, didn't need to take his mouth off your sensitive nipple. You whined out his name, overwhelmed with sensations. He continued his assault, moving to your other breast, his thigh feeling heavenly against you. But not enough. Finally, Rick must have felt the desperate heat emanating from your core, and the wetness drenching his thigh. As if reading your mind, he began trailing his tongue down your stomach. You shivered, your hands flying to his hair. He left wet kisses around your hip bones, nibbling and sucking while you writhed beneath him. You moaned and whimpered as he toyed with you. He looked up, and gave you a smile, whispering "Be good." After what felt like hours of this delicious torture, he cupped his arm around your leg and began slowly kissing up your thigh, finally, finally, leaving a kiss on your clothed pussy.

You had to hand it to him, the man was determined. You wondered if one day you could get him to just turn around and fuck you, no teasing no games, just straight to it. If you could draw it out of him. Make him break his patient demeanor. Maybe just push him one step too far. Again, you bookmarked that for later. 

His tongue made sweet contact with your already wet panties, they were essentially ruined by now. You desperately tugged them down, fumbling with them until Rick helped you. Something in your eyes must have spoken to him, maybe the urgency with which you ripped your underwear away. He flung them somewhere, carelessly, and kissed his way quickly up from your ankle straight back to your pussy lips. You threw your head back as his tongue entered you, his nose bumping against your clit perfectly. You lifted your hips instinctively, and he pushed them right back down. His hands hooked around your legs and jerked you closer to him as if preventing you from escaping his mouth. You moaned at this; the way the tendons and veins in his arms bulged as they wrapped around you. The way he forcefully pulled you in deeper. The way his blue eyes would flick up to yours when he slowed down and traced your clit with the tip of his tongue. He was being more forceful, almost more dominant. It was fucking incredible. One of his hands slid up your torso to cup your breast, gently rolling your nipple in his adept fingertips. Oh god, this was heaven. 

It really was. But…can we circle back to the fucking? When was that happening? You couldn't get the thought out of your head. The mental image of him snapping his hips again and again against you. Maybe pinning you down like earlier. Pulling your hair. Whispering praises. Whispering degradations. Taunting you. Worshipping you. Or maybe you'd ride him. Make his pretty lips beg for you. Maybe you'd keep a hand on his throat, and watch his adams apple bob as he tried not to come. Bounce on his cock like a damn trampoline until he couldn't take it anymore.

Though you were enjoying yourself, you worried this was a ruse of sorts, distracting you from what you wanted most. “Rick,” you murmured. He didn’t leave your folds, uttering a simple “Mm?” the vibrations of which against your clit made your breath hitch in your throat. “A-are we still…? I just- I wanna make sure. Because I really, really-” he cut you off, withdrawing his mouth from your pussy to speak. His fingers took over, and you bit your lip as he played with your entrance, not breaking eye contact. His lips were wet with you, and he licked them before speaking.

“Yes. But you’re gonna come first, honey. Think you can do that for me?” 

His fingers probed deeper as he spoke, curling delicately inside you. You breathed in sharply, mouth agape, eyes squeezed shut. You nodded eagerly. 

“Good girl. I want ‘ya to be nice and ready for me.”

You whimpered, again picturing his cock sliding into you with ease after your orgasm. He leaned back into your pussy, but you interrupted petulantly, “And then-?” 

You knew, you just wanted to hear him say it. He chuckled lightly, the breaths of which tingled across your sensitive folds. He made unbreakable, promising, eye contact.

“And then I’m gonna fuck your brains out until the sun comes up. Maybe then some more. Happy?” 

The filth of his words was not represented in the sweet smile he gave you while speaking, but it made it so much hotter. You nodded, you were happy. He dove right back in, his fingers squelching in and out of you pornographically, and his mouth sucking on your clit. There was no teasing this time, he wanted you to come, and he wanted you to come now. You panted above him, glancing down now and then to absorb the sight below you. Just the view alone could've gotten you off. As he ate you out and fingered you, you noticed his other hand had trailed back down. It was now slotted between his own legs, the muscles flexing as he palmed himself brazenly through his boxers. He made little sounds into your pussy as he did so, his eyebrows knitting together. With that fun little visual, you were now quickly ascending your orgasm, and you fought to stay quiet. Rick could tell, and he doubled his efforts. Licking and sucking and kissing and nipping and tongue-fucking you: anything to get you off. The sooner you came, the sooner you'd finally have sex.

His tongue lapping at you, his fingers wetly moving in and out, the combination of your sounds: his muffled by your writhing hips and yours muffled by your own hand. You were close. As much as you wanted to watch what was happening between your legs, your eyes rolled back as you closed them, knocking your head back as well. Your other hand entwined itself in Rick's hair, pushing him further in if it were possible. It was like the room disappeared. With your eyes closed, all you could perceive was your body and the sensations Rick was giving you. Your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Your face and chest were flushed with heat, and you could feel sweat beginning to bud on your temples. You panted heavily, your hearing only picking up your own breathing, your heartbeat, and the sounds Rick's mouth made against you. You gasped, nearly hyperventilating as you reached your peak. You knew you were being too noisy, but you couldn’t help yourself. A final groan from Rick against your pussy was enough to send you over the edge. You cried out, your hand falling away from your mouth.

Bliss.

It was like an avalanche. All you could feel was Rick's hot mouth sucking on your clit, guiding you through it as you came. All you heard was the sound of rushing water as your brain went haywire, your hips bucking into his face. But there was something else too. 

Something to disturb your dream-like state. 

A knock. 

Knocking. 

At the door. 

A knock at the door. 

Someone.

Is.

Knocking. 

At. 

The. 

Door! 

You had hardly realized what it was, still midway through your orgasm, when Rick's fingers quickly slid out of you and his hand clapped roughly over your mouth. You couldn’t control it though, your baser instincts making you shudder and moan against his hand, your hips bucking recklessly as he desperately tried to press them down. The quick absence of his fingers made it all the worse, your entrance clenching around nothing. You opened your eyes, eyebrows arched, to find Rick’s searching your own. They were wide and pleading. Like you could read his mind, please please please be quiet. His face was an amalgamation of fear, desperation, and sympathy. He had caused this, it wasn’t your fault. You breathed heavily beneath his hand, swallowing your final whimpers, your hips stuttering against him still. He searched your eyes as he carefully removed his hand. 

Knock Knock. 

He looked appreciatively down at you, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly in thanks, despite the situation. He brought his finger to his lips, ordering you to stay quiet. You obeyed, catching your breath as silently as you could. He slowly crawled out of bed and shuffled to the door, adjusting his boxers and wiping his face in the process. If the stakes weren't as high, it would be sort of funny. You were caught in between the bliss of your orgasm, still ricocheting throughout your body, and the fear and shame that crawled in to take its place. Rick glanced back at you and cracked the door open. It was enough for his body to take up the space but prevented anyone from seeing inside the room. 

If it’s Judith at the door… You tried to stop yourself, even as your stomach did a triple axle. If it’s Judith you’re fucking cooked. Time seemed to slow down, again your rabbit-like heartbeat jumping to your throat. She might’ve been looking for you. You weren’t in your bed. Had you closed your bedroom door? You weren’t sure. She could’ve been going to the bathroom and noticed you weren’t there. What if she walked right into Rick's room? What if she saw past him? What if she heard you? What if–

“Daddy?” a small voice sniffled from the hallway, unseen. “I had a bad dream.”

***

Notes: Hahaha oh my gah what was that guys who did that. Anyways I hope you guys liked this chapter! DO NOT FRET THE BONING IS IMMINENT (I may just bend the rules of time a little no biggie.) Plz like and reply with any ideas or notes or whatever you like! Thank you all for supporting me esp bc i was gone for so long <3 Happy reading!

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Merry Christmas! Im alive lol, I’ve been out of the country but I’m working on a big fat chapter for you all as a late Christmas present <3 thank you all for your patience and support!! 🎄

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 3.3k

Warnings/notes 18+: lingerie, kissing, making out, dry humping/grinding, oral sex, blow jobs, slight hair pulling, teasing, fingering, aftercare, this chapter is soooo hot guys like-

Chapter 8: Your turn

With the door fully closed behind him, Rick was frozen in what could only be described as awe. You tried not to feel ostentatious, and stood proudly, a seductive smile beginning to form on your face. His eyes raked across your body, his breath faltering. The color of the lingerie you had chosen was almost identical to Rick’s eyes. The icey blue negligee was trimmed with white lace, and connected with only one flimsy button at your chest, leaving the rest of the fabric draped open. The straps were so thin and delicate that they nearly slipped down your arms with your robe. The satin and lace just barely covered your breasts and ended at your upper thigh, flowing gently, the matching lace panties peeking out now and again. He finally stepped forward, stalking over to you incredibly slowly, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

He stopped mere inches from you, and you could feel his labored breathing on your naked skin. He cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed, so devoted to soaking in your image, it felt like hours before he finally touched you. His finger gently traced the strap on your shoulder, sending goosebumps across your flesh. His hand traveled down, caressing the silk and tugging it gently, in his own world. He couldn’t even meet your eyes, so enamored with his present. “This…” he trailed off, his voice was dark and hoarse, “This is… for me?”

Oh god how much you wanted to grab him and kiss him then, bite him, pull his hair, ride him til dawn, make him see fucking stars. “Should I go?” you asked softly, almost sarcastically seeing as the answer was so obvious. His hand gripped the fabric tighter, almost balled into a fist. He finally met your eyes, so blue and full of desire they could’ve knocked you off your feet. And then, so soft, breathy, and desperate you could’ve missed it:

“Please don’t.” 

Good lord. It was incredible how fast he had caved; from ice-cold glaring this morning, to pleading puppy dog eyes in the evening. You ran your fingers through his thick hair and rose slowly to your tiptoes, grabbing his curls. You crashed your lips into his, eliciting a deep groan from the older mans throat. It was not gentle; both of you were so full of wanting after the mere 20 hours you had spent without touching each other. It was like the first time all over again; like nothing you’d experienced before, like you could never get enough. His grip on the silk of your lingerie never loosened, and he used it to pull you closer to him, pulling your body flush against his own. You nearly stumbled, still on your tip toes, your calves beginning to burn.

The feeling of his rough jeans and belt buckle against your skin and soft silk was intoxicating, and you pressed further into him. You caressed his hard chest and shoulders, dragging your hands down to his tensed forearms, feeling the solid muscle beneath his (somehow) still-tanned skin. Your hands found his, and you tugged on them, indicating to let go. He did, and you pulled away from the kiss. You opened your eyes to his slightly confused, but undoubtedly turned-on expression. You gave him a little smile and turned, slowly crossing the few feet to his bed, moving your hips as seductively as you could in the short distance. Without looking back, you slid into his bed slowly, positioning yourself with your back against the headboard, legs open wide, and raised your gaze to meet his. 

There was no confusion now in his eyes, only what you could cornily describe as pure lust. Not to inflate your own ego too much but damn. You struck gold with this idea. You gave yourself a mental pat on the back. You looked up at him through your lashes, the same seductive smile playing on your lips. He smiled too, his eyes hungry for more as he wet his lips. Whatever hesitation he had been struggling with was out the window now. The man you saw before you was not the same who had scorned you earlier today. Rick ambled to the foot of the bed, taking his sweet time, eyes never leaving your body. That fluttering sensation in your core was turned up to 1,000, watching Rick. His knees stopped at the foot of the bed, and for a split second, you worried he had come to his senses. But then, he leaned forward and planted his strong hands on the bed.

He crawled to you on his hands and knees, his hands running over the blankets before hooking behind your thighs. He pressed a soft, warm, kiss to the bruise on your inner thigh, almost causing you to moan out. He kissed further up your thigh, lips pressed into your thigh crease.

 Before he could go any farther, you pulled him up and kissed him once more. Getting to feel his body weight on yours was not something you had expected to be turned on by, but god, that feeling of him on top of you was like no other. He was so big, so solid. A Man. Your chests were against each other, his large frame overshadowing yours. Your legs akimbo, and knees on either side of his waist, you pushed your hips up to grind against his crotch, already feeling that gratifying hardness. You let your hands wander again, running your fingernails gently over the hard muscles in his back, feeling them tense at the sensation through his t-shirt. His breathing grew heavier as you teased him, and the room began to feel hotter with the friction between your bodies.

One of his hands was in your hair, pulling you closer to him, his rough beard scratching at your lips. His other hand gripped your waist, rubbing the silk between his thumb and forefinger. Soon that hand travelled down to your hip, squeezing and groping your flesh. Just as his fingers grazed over your satin and lace panties, you pulled away once more. It was getting fun, surprising him, that same dopey look on his face each time you stopped. His hand rested on your thigh again, the other holding the side of your face. “I think,” you said panting slightly through your reddened lips, “It’s your turn.” He cocked his head to the side, indulging you, “My turn for what, honey?” You smiled devilishly, your hand traveling down to his belt,

“To show me how you come. Honey.” 

He exhaled sharply as you palmed his erection, his eyes closing and jaw clenching, his grip on your thigh deepening. You sat up, one hand on his chest pushing him back, the other still on his crotch. He acquiesced eyes half-closed, having no choice but to follow your lead. You pushed him onto his back, straddling him, finally being able to grind down on him; and fuck it felt good. Rick let out a groan before he could stop himself, his hands flying to your hips to steady you. You moved your hips again nonetheless, causing his head to fall back into the pillow; his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, his eyebrows knit together, lips parted.

He was so pretty like this.

Grinding down on his hips once more, you pondered just how pretty he was. Yes, he was rugged and handsome, dare you say ‘manly.’ And that was more than enough. But those eyes, his long dark lashes, thick curls, and pink lips were something else. You wanted to fuck him just as bad as you wanted him to fuck you. You needed more. You moved down his hard torso, your hands finding his belt. You began to unbuckle it, but the metallic clank seemed to wake Rick out of his blissful stupor. “Y/n,” he breathed, “you don’t have to— we shouldn’t-” He could barely finish a sentence, every fiber of his being and yours screaming we should we should we should we should we TOTALLY should!  

Your hands rested on his belt, “Rick. I want to. Please.” His lips were parted but no words came out, there was nothing left to say. He couldn’t pretend anymore. He swallowed and gave you a tiny nod before letting his head rest again on the pillows. You made quick work of his belt and stopped yourself from tossing it noisily to the ground. Everything you wanted was at your fingertips, and you tried your best to restrain yourself from just ripping his pants off and getting to it. No. Go slow. Payback. You unbuttoned his jeans, then let your fingers linger at the waistline as you slowed down. You could feel his eyes on you as you let your hands wander up his abdomen under his shirt. His skin was warm and soft, and your fingers brushed past a slight happy trail just below his belly button. You pushed up his shirt to reveal his toned abdomen. Rick's jeans slightly undone, his shirt half-off, and his hair all messed up from your own doing; it was enough to make any girl crumble.

You sank down and began pressing kisses to his stomach, leading lower and lower towards the waistline of his jeans again. His hips shifted up eagerly and subconsciously as you nipped gently at his skin. Your hand traveled up his thigh seductively, ending at his bulge. Though you were outwardly confident, your heart was beating out of your chest. There was no question as to whether or not you wanted this; you so so did. But, it was all so real now. Am I about to actually suck the dick of my best friend's dad? You glanced up at Rick and met his eyes as you unzipped his jeans.

Yes, yes I am.

You revealed his blue boxers as you pulled his jeans down, not all the way, just enough. His hard-on was even more visible now through the thin cotton fabric, and you nearly drooled at the sight. Rick’s chest rose and fell hard, his cock twitching with anticipation. One of his toned arms had made its way behind his head, allowing him to take in the sight of you better. You hooked your fingers around the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulled them down.

His cock sprang free, and your mouth fell open. It was big. You weren’t amazing at mental measurements, but it was safe to say that Rick’s was the biggest you had ever personally seen. It was perfect, and aching for your touch. You obliged. You lowered your head and licked a stripe from the base to the tip, eliciting a deep groan from Rick. You smiled to yourself and wrapped one hand around the base as your lips pressed a gentle kiss to the tip. Rick’s head lifted from the pillows as he groaned again, “Ah- Honey…” You quieted him by taking him gingerly in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip. His head fell back into the pillows as he made a sort of choking sound. You were winning today. Today is a good day!

Embolstered, you slid your lips down his cock, taking more of him into your mouth. His hips stuttered up, and you used your other hand to steady him, as you bobbed your head up and down. You pulled your mouth off of him with a pop! before diving right back in, faster, taking more and more. Your other hand stroked the inches you couldn’t reach, but you tried everything in your power to get all of him in your mouth. “Jesus, y/n…” Rick huffed from above you, watching your every move. His free hand moved to your hair, holding it back for you as you continued to suck him off. You could tell he was trying not to push your head, or jerk his hips up, and it made you all the more confident that you were doing something right. You let his cock hit the back of your throat a few times before pulling off for some air. The last thing you wanted to do was puke. That would probably not be very sexy.

You stroked him solidly as you caught your breath, and his eyes squeezed closed in bliss. You wanted so badly to take off your panties and slip his wet hard cock inside yourself. You wondered if he’d let you. Picturing yourself bouncing on his cock, you couldn’t think of any reason he wouldn’t be interested. You jerked him off for a few moments before diving back in and slipping most of his cock down your throat in one go. Rick sat up halfway, surprised by your tenacity, he sucked in a deep shaky breath. Your eyes met his playfully as you pulled your lips just barely off his tip, “You alright, Mr. Grimes?” Rick laughed breathlessly at your teasing, eyes hypnotized by your pretty mouth kissing his cock.

He swallowed thickly, eyes blinking shut as you licked at his tip like a lolly pop. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart” he whispered, hips stuttering. You smiled around his tip and took him deeply into your mouth, bobbing your head quickly. Rick ran a hand through his hair, trying to collect himself, but it was no use. He was close, and you both knew it. His grip on your hair had tightened and he led you in your up-and-down motion, not pushing, but not entirely gentle either. He was getting desperate. He began mumbling under his breath, “Such a- ah- a good girl for me, y/n… That’s it honey… God you take me– Mm – take me so well.”

His words had you aching beneath your silk panties, and as you bobbed on his dick, you wished he could touch you. You slipped your free hand down in between your thighs and relieved the pressure on your aching clit. You moaned around his cock at the feeling, causing Rick to groan at that feeling. He opened his eyes to peer down at what you were doing, and his breath hitched in his throat. You whined around his cock as you continued to touch yourself. It was all too much for him. Rick's hips jerked up and his grip led your head up and down in his final moments.

As your hand explored the parts of him that you could not reach with your mouth, you felt his cock go rigid. This was it. Rick sat up quickly, cupping your face, and with a desperate groan, he came into your mouth. You felt his hot cum enter your throat, a shocking amount you had not anticipated. You choked on the salty taste and, with watering eyes, realized you could not swallow it all. Fuck. All of this work to pussy out in the end?? Your mouth left his still-hard cock as you watched in shame the second half of his load come undone on his stomach, though he didn’t seem to mind. His voice was rough and raspy as his last groans left his chest, almost chuckling now in euphoria. “Oh, sweetheart,” he huffed, “I’m sorry, I shoulda– Fuck, you don’t even know how good that was.”

You barely heard him, your eyes were still locked on his torso, covered in his cum. He ran another hand through his hair and followed your gaze to his stomach. Before he could say anything else, you dipped your head down and began kissing and lapping up the spatters of cum. Rick breathed shakily, watching you. You worked your way up his chest to his mouth, where his lips eagerly collided with yours.

You moaned softly into the kiss, reminding yourself of your own throbbing clit, begging to be touched. Your fingernails gripped his chest beneath his shirt, pushing it up. He got the hint and pulled away, taking off his t-shirt. He brought it down between you to wipe off any residual cum from his torso and tossed it to the ground. He adjusted himself back into his jeans but left them open, his happy trail leading down to his boxers. This was the first time you were able to see his full, bare upper body, and you wanted to scream.

He was so warm and solid. He wasn’t crazy shredded or something, which you never felt was that attractive anyway, but he was toned and muscular and just hard underneath your touch. You ran your fingers over his firm chest up to his broad shoulders and groped his strong arms while your lips never left his. Just feeling him beneath you was enough to get you going, but the addition of his mouth against yours, teeth pulling at your bottom lip, beard scratching you ever so slightly, his wide hands exploring your back and migrating down to cup your ass, you were about to spiral out of control. You didn’t care to stop for theatrics; you needed him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock if he’d let you, anything as long as it was him.

And you needed him now.

One of his hands still squeezed your ass; the other had come up to intertwine with your hair, keeping you flush with him (as though you would ever want to leave him.) You grabbed his hand and led it to your pussy needily, and he obliged immediately by rubbing gentle circles into your clit through the silk of your panties. You could feel his cocky smile against your lips as you moaned into his mouth. He took the opportunity to flip you onto your back, his fingers never leaving your pussy. He rested his forearm by your head, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the flexing muscles as he brushed your hair out of your face. His lips were parted sexily as he studied your face, gauging what you liked, which, frankly, was just about anything he did at this point. He cocked his head with a smile as his fingers slowed down, causing you to whine in desperation. His lips found yours again softly as he sped up once more. Your hands raked through his hair, pulling him to you as your thighs clenched around his hand. He must’ve felt like you deserved a break because, instead of his usual teasing, he kept pace and deepened the kiss as your thighs began to shake. The crescendo of your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and you squeezed your eyes closed as they rolled back in ecstasy. A moan escaped your mouth, which Rick quickly swallowed with his own. He applied gentle pressure still, in the aftershock, until pulling away and dragging his hand up your body to your waist.

You sighed as he pressed a gentle kiss to your throat and chest, his hand massaging your waist. He looked up at you through his lashes, his blue eyes piercing yours, “If this is my Christmas gift, where were ‘ya for my birthday?” he joked. You laughed and played with his curls, “I’m glad you like it.” Even after your tousle, which left the negligee a bit askew, you had to admit it was still pretty sexy. He kissed your throat again and whispered in his gravelly voice, “I love it.” You sighed contently and sank deeper into the pillows, making yourself comfortable. Rick smiled and slid in place next to you, pulling you against himself. The heat that emanated from him, his steady breathing, his strong arms wrapped around you, and the exhaustion following your orgasm all made you feel very sleepy suddenly. You didn’t want this night to end just yet. I mean, you had paid good money for this lingerie, and in your wildest dreams, you had thought this would be the thing that finally gets him to fuck you. And yet, you found your eyes drooping to a close. Just for a few minutes, you told yourself.

And within moments you were fast asleep.

***

Notes: HOORAY I AM FREE FROM SCHOOL!!!! I hope you guys like this chapter I know you've been waiting so long so I am already started on the next chapter as well! I wanted to get this to ya'll ASAP so lmk if there are any errors or anything, I was rushing a bit. Anyways, thanks so much for supporting me (: Happy reading!

[cherrycherrylady2024]

guess who finished their finals 😏 prepare yourselves, updates in the next few days!

[cherrycherrylady2024]

hi guys!!! I miss u all!! I just wanted to check in I know I haven’t published in sooo long, school has been kicking my butt 😭 But don’t worry, the second finals are over I’m hoping to post the next chapter and guys… omg it’s so good 😝 thank u all for being patient, you’ll hear from me soon! <3

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 4.5k

Warnings/notes 18+: Hickeys, grumpy/mean Rick, flirting? pining, some angst, fluff, sexual tension, lingerie, teasing, Rick is FIENDING for it but trying so hard not to awww how precious

Chapter 7: You win

When waking up, the events of last night could have easily just been another dream, hazily floating in the back of your mind. You groggily opened your eyes in the gray morning light. You sighed, tucking the blankets up to your chin, and rolled over, mashing your face into the pillows. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”  Your eyes shot open. “C’mon honey. Show me how you come.” Your breath hitched in your throat, sitting up as the memories hit you like a freight train. His lips, his tongue, his fingers, those eyes. The cool of the granite countertop on your bare ass, the sounds of Rick lapping at your folds echoing throughout the kitchen, his teeth on your neck. Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god.

Goosebumps ran down your body as you remembered each and every filthy detail. You couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your cheeks. It was almost too good to be true. You shoved the blankets aside, noting the extra marks on your inner thighs. You let out a breath you didn’t realized you’d been holding. It was real. You stood, finding your legs weaker than usual, and padded over to the mirror. Your mouth dropped open. God damn. Your lips were still swollen, your neck covered in marks from Rick's mouth, both big and small. The most obvious was the bite mark, the odd shape of the bruise catching your attention. You ran your fingers over your neck, feeling that familiar warm sensation in your lower stomach, the memories sending pulses down to your core. Thank god for turtlenecks.

You couldn’t decide which emotion you felt upon finding Rick alone in the dining room. Remembering his tenderness as he put you to bed, part of you wanted to walk right over, sit on his lap, and give him a kiss. But another part of you begged the question: How the fuck were you supposed to talk to him now? His blue eyes peeked over the newspaper he held as you entered the room, eyes lingering on your covered neck for a moment before darting back down to whatever he was reading. He said nothing. “Good morning,” you offered, testing the waters. “Mornin.” He didn’t even look up. So it was like that. Your blood ran cold momentarily, falling into your old pattern of basically worshipping him as a God. Then it turned hot. What the fuck was his problem? What new game had he invented for you to play? Who does he think he is? You sat down directly next to him, not making eye contact as he glanced to you. You helped yourself to some cereal and a banana, shaking the box more than necessary, again causing him to stare at you. It was your turn to play games.

You poured milk into your cereal and crunched it loudly, letting the spoon clang against the bowl. You turned and watched him try to ignore you. It was sort of funny, the way you could see him reading and re-reading the same sentence, unable to concentrate. You took in his appearance, surprised to see him in plain clothes, jeans, big belt, a t-shirt, and a flannel rolled up to his forearms. Peeking out from beneath his collar you swore you could see the purple-red bruise of your own bite mark. “No work today?” you questioned, momentarily pausing your crunching. He sighed, “I’m on call if they need me.” You took another bite of cereal, “So what’re you gonna do today then?” He flicked the page in his newspaper irritably, “Not sure.” You nodded, peeling your banana. “So how’d you sleep?” That was it. He folded his newspaper and tossed it onto the table with a sigh, turning to look at you. You held the banana to your lips, “Oh sorry. Am I bothering you, Mr. Grimes?”

He clenched his jaw, swallowing, his adams apple bobbing. His eyes flashed down to the banana pressing into your bottom lip. “Yes. You are. This- this thing– it…. I thought about it and…we can’t. I can’t,” his eyes looked everywhere but you. You’d never seen him at such a loss for words. You took a harsh bite of the banana, “Can’t what?” His eyes met yours coldly, tired of your game. It was hard to miss the unmistakable tiredness in his eyes, and you began to wonder if he got any sleep at all after last night. “You know what, honey. As much as I…” he cleared his throat, “You’re too young. You know that.” You weren’t sure what had caused his sudden backtracking, but surely you were both too far gone to turn back now. “I’m not. And that didn’t seem to matter last night,” You leaned forward in your chair, lowering your voice. “Y/n,” he warned. Your hand found his and you could see him bristle at your touch.

The big bad Rick Grimes was afraid.

“Please Rick,” you spoke softly, “I want you.” He took a sharp breath, as your hand turned his over, stroking his palm. You felt oddly powerful. Here he was, this grown man, steeling himself against you. Yet you felt sure he would never win. The room felt a few degrees warmer as you held each other's eyes.

Suddenly thundering footsteps from the stairs made you break apart, you returning to your cereal, and he returning to his newspaper. Judith entered and sat down next to you, blithely unaware of the scene she had just entered. Rick bid her a quick “G’morning” before staring off into space, the gears in his brain turning. He finished his coffee and excused himself, carrying the newspaper out with him at his hips. An imperceptible smile crept onto your face as you realized what he was probably trying to hide. “So, once Carl gets up I think we should go straight to the mall, it gets crazy this time of year,” Judith said through mouthfuls of cereal. “Sounds like a plan.”

~~~

After making the icy trek across the busy parking lot, you, Carl, and Judith were finally enveloped by the heat wave of the mall. Judith was right, the place was packed. Screaming kids, stressed-out parents, and exhausted mall Santas bustled around every square foot of the small town's shopping center. The warm air, scented with a tinge of artificial evergreen and spicy vanilla from the candle store, immediately made you sweat under your turtleneck. “Okay so I think we should hit Macy’s, I want to get a scarf for Grandma, and then we can go to the toy store, okay Carl?” Judith said, navigating the three of you through the crowds. “What about Santa?” Carl questioned, eyeing one of the mall Santas scarfing down a pretzel. The line to visit Santa wrapped around 1/4th of the mall. Judith looked to you and you shrugged your shoulders, what else did you have to do today? “Alright, Santa’s a go.” Carl cheered as you all entered the department store. 

Judith must have examined 50 scarves before finally choosing a warm red fleece one. Both you and Carl slumped in armchairs, waiting for her to pay. “What’re you asking for from Santa, y/n?” Carl asked. You thought for a moment. What do you want? The image of Rick on his knees, gazing up at you with those crystal-blue eyes flashed across your mind. “Socks.” Carl laughed. “What?” you said smiling, “Everyone needs socks!” Judith walked back over to the two of you, receipt in hand, “40 bucks for a scarf. What has this world come to?” You and Carl stood, stretching. “Do they have socks at the toy store?” Carl asked Judith, containing a giggle. “Ummm. No. I don’t think so, why?” Judith asked, confused. Carl looked to you and you shared a laugh.

You tried to keep Rick off your mind, knowing you’d spiral. Making your way through to the other side of the mall was no easy task. Besides the crowds, every shop had some sort of sale, and was completely decked out in Christmas decor. The three of you must have visited 10 stores before Carl begged you both to stop. The toy store was finally in sight and he dragged you both over, causing you to put whatever knick-knacks you were considering wasting your money on, back. “You guys are taking forever! Come on!” Carl said, tugging on your sleeves. “Fine fine, we’re coming,” Judith grumbled, shaking him off. As you followed Carl, something caught your eye. A womens intimates store, sparkling with christmas lights, and the sign in the entrance announcing everything was “50% OFF!!!” An idea began to form. You turned to Judith, “I need a new bra, would you mind if I just met you guys in the toy store if you’re still there?” She sighed, “Yeah that’s fine, we’ll be in there the better part of an hour.” You smiled and split off. You wandered around the store, your bandaged hands feeling the laces and silks of the bras and panties, but you knew what you were there for.

 “Can I help you, dear?” you turned around, surprised. A plump old lady stood before you, a measuring tape around her neck and sweet smile on her face. “Oh! Uh. Yes actually,” you said, adjusting your turtle neck. “Do you need to be measured?” she said, preemptively taking off her measuring tape. “Uh no thank you, I’m good. I was just wondering where your…” you cleared your throat, why did it have to be an old lady working right now? “Where your lingerie section was?” You finally asked. The old lady raised her eyebrows, a playful smile on her face, making you laugh bashfully, “Ooooh I see! Well, it’s just back there past the T-shirt bras, want me to show you?” She pointed behind you. “Oh no thank you, I can find it myself. Thanks.” The old lady smiled again and stepped away. You made your way towards the back of the store. The options were endless, but you studied each and every item, searching for the perfect piece. Crotchless panties? Too much. Bralette? Too little. Whatever this mess of strings was? Looks like a medieval torture device. You stopped in your tracks when you finally found it, lingering towards the back of a sale rack. It was the one. 

You caught up with Judith and Carl in the toy store, your pink bag of lingerie at your side. “What’s in there?” Carl asked, pointing with the toy dinosaur he was holding at your bag. “Socks.”

~~~

The line to visit Santa had shortened a bit, thank god, but the three of you still had about 15 minutes to wait. “So how are you feeling after yesterday?” Judith asked. You blinked at her. “Are you all bruised up?”

HUH???

Your mouth hung slightly open, your brain not processing what she was saying. “What?” you choked out. Judith gave you a funny look, then leaned in close examining your eyes, “Jesus did you bang your head too? Ice-skating. You fell. Like a lot.” A wave of relief washed over you and you let out a breathy laugh, “Ohhhh, that. Yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s a lot better now,” you held up your bandaged hands. “Ok, good. I’m sorry about that. But I have to say it was pretty funny,” she pursed her lips containing a smile. You hit her playfully, “Shut up.” Carl turned to look at you very seriously, “Sh! Don’t say that in front of Santa!” Judith snorted, turning away as you put your hand to your lips, indulging him. “Yeah, y/n. Not in front of Santa!” Judith quipped, trying not to laugh. You all had reached the front of the line, and Carl scrambled onto Santa's lap. “And what would you like for Christmas, little boy?” Santa asked, in a very Santa-like manner. Carl thought for a moment, then looked to you, then back to Santa, exclaiming, “Socks!”

~~~

After a lunch at the food court, you all loaded back into the car and headed home. The pictures of Carl and Santa were pretty cute, but the best one was when he insisted you and Judith join him and Santa. You each got a printed out copy and you held the photo in your hands, smiling as you turned onto their street. It had begun snowing that morning and hadn’t stopped all day. As you approached the house, you could see Rick shoveling and salting the driveway in his big winter coat. He waved you all in and Judith parked. “How was the mall?” he asked, leaning on his shovel. “Hectic,” Judith retorted, adjusting the shopping bags. “Dad, do you think there’s enough snow to build a snowman?” Carl asked hopefully, crouching down for an up-close-and-personal look at the inches of snow. Rick looked out into the yard with a sigh, then turned back to Carl with a smile, “I don’t see why not.” Carl immediately clambered into the yard and began construction. Judith yawned and began walking towards the porch, “I’m gonna take a nap. Don’t let me sleep through dinner,” she turned back and gave you a wry smile as you rolled your eyes at her remark. Carl looked up from the lump of snow he created, “Wait, y/n, do you wanna help us?” You looked between Rick and Carl, “Umm. Sure! Yeah, let me put my stuff inside then I’ll be right out.” You spotted Rick’s eyes lingering on your shopping bag, which bore the logo of the lingerie store, as you headed inside.

Rick kept his distance from you as the three of you built the snowman. It wasn’t a three-person job really, so half the time he sat and watched, offering advice now and then: “Isn’t that ‘sposed to be round?” He prodded, gesturing at the misshapen lump you were helping Carl roll. Carl kicked some snow at Rick, who took it like a champ, “Y’know what? Who said snowmen have to be round? Looks good to me.” You laughed to yourself, glancing up at Rick. He shook his hair out, sending a plethora of twinkling snowflakes into the air. His hair was slightly damp, highlighting his curls that gently fell into his face. His nose and cheeks were rosy from the cold, and when his frosty blue eyes met yours the hardened shell he had attempted to don earlier today, softened. His smile made you forget about the cold, filling your chest with warmth. You felt that magnetic pull once more, that all was right in the world before he looked away taking a deep breath. You helped Carl place the head on the snowman, far above his own, “Y/n, have you ever built a snowman as big as ours?” You sighed, stepping away and shaking off your hands, “It never really snowed back where I’m from, so this is actually my first proper snowman.” You helped Carl place stones for the snowman's eyes, and sat back to appreciate your work. “Dad do we have carrots?” Carl questioned, already shaking off his boots. “I believe we do” Rick drawled, a playful smile on his lips. Carl shot into the house, leaving you and Rick alone in the snow.

You kept your eyes on the house, not sure where else to look, yet you could feel Rick's gaze on you. “Where’re you from again?” Rick sat in the snow, leaning his arms on his knees, watching you intently. You focused on the snow man, not meeting his gaze, “Little bit of everywhere.” Rick chuckled, “And still no snow?” You shook off your hands, sitting back on your knees before turning to him, making hard eye contact, “My family wasn’t the snowman-building type.” You both maintained eye contact, before he broke away with a sniffle, looking towards the street. You poked a branch into the snowmans side for his arm, and stood to gather another from the yard. As you turned around, you nearly stumbled into Rick who had crossed the short distance between you in mere seconds without you noticing. He caught your arm, steadying you, before handing you a small branch. You took the other end, neither of you letting go. You seemed to breathe in synchrony, eyes laser-focused on eachother, cold puffs of air mixing in-between your bodies. You wanted nothing more than to take that extra step, press your body into his, and kiss his frost-bitten lips. Do it. He gazed down at you through his lashes still, no hardness or anger to be found, only desire. DO IT!!! “Y/n…” You pulled your end of the branch gently, forcing him to come closer or— 

he let go. 

Your hope had just begun to sink when the front door slammed closed, and you turned, spotting Carl. You took a few quick steps away, glancing back at Rick who smiled at Carl as he trotted through the snow, oblivious. Carl held up two carrots, “Ok I brought options.”

~~~

The carrot you all chose was the right call, providing that picture-perfect snowman look. As you gazed out now through the living room window, the porch lights twinkling in the night sky, illuminating the snowman, you were overcome with the sensation that you had entered a Christmas movie of some sort. Everything was picturesque, and you only hoped that this movie ended with the girl getting the guy. Please let it be a Hallmark movie. “Y/n, are you ready to beat these losers?” You turned around to Judith, who leaned in the doorway to the kitchen, an icing bag in her hands. Carl had insisted upon a gingerbread house decorating competition, with the one demand that Rick would be on his team. You and Judith were prepared to clobber them. “Hell yeah,” you declared crossing to Judith. Two preassembled gingerbread houses sat on opposite sides of the kitchen island, Rick already on one side pouring candies into a bowl. A few more dishes of assorted candies and icing bags were placed on the countertop a few feet away to make more room on the island.

Rick hadn’t said much to you during dinner, and you were having a hard time discerning where his head was at. After your moment outside, you felt that this mornings turmoil had dissipated, but when Ricks surly attitude towards you seemed to return, you weren’t so sure. Rick clapped his hands together definitively, “Alright I think we’re ready. Carl d’ya wanna set the timer?” Carl jumped off the stool he was perched on, and set the timer for 20 minutes. He turned to stare at you all, very seriously, “Whoever has the best gingerbread house at the end wins. Ready?” You all nodded, “GO!” Carl pressed the button to start the timer and ran back to his seat. As you and Judith began to decorate your house, you couldn’t help remembering the filthy things that occurred on this very kitchen island last night. And hopefully every night from now on. As Rick crossed to the other counter, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Judith furiously piped frosting onto the roof of the gingerbread house, spreading it out with a butter knife to mimic snow, “Y/n grab the peppermints on the counter,” she ordered. You scurried over to the candy assortment, side by side with Rick. You enjoyed the proximity to him for maybe a millisecond before he grabbed a bowl of sprinkles and quickly made his way back to the island. His coldness made you pause, and Judith shouted again for the peppermints. You grabbed them and hustled back over to continue decorating.

Your hands stumbled while you iced, placed candies, and smoothed out frosting, your brain continuing to flash back to images of last night. Rick on his knees, tearing your shorts away, desperate to get closer to you. His hard chest against yours. His big hands gripping the flesh of your hips, grounding you in place as he lapped at your cunt. His teasing, and god, that noise he made when you bit at his throat. Fuck. You tried your best to stop it, but you were becoming unbearably turned on. Focus on your fucking gingerbread house!!! Rick crossed back to the candy counter and, without prompting from Judith, you ambled up beside him, studying the candies. Again, within milliseconds, he distanced himself quickly from you. Fucker. You were now determined to wipe the floor with him. You re-joined Judith and doubled down in your decorating efforts, desperately trying to ignore Rick’s look of sexy concentration across from you, and the bit of frosting that had made its way into his curls. Rick was, of course, unbearably sexy, but there was something so endearing and sweet about him, it drove you nuts. It’s probably the dilf thing. You were getting down to the wire now, with only a few minutes remaining on the timer. You and Judith were nearly done, and the boys… less so. Their house was a bit of a mess, and you almost felt bad for them. Almost.

Rick crossed once more to the candy counter in the final minute. You shot over beside him as he began to pick up a bowl of gumdrops. Before he could run away again, you grabbed his forearm, forcing him to finally acknowledge you. He looked to you, his eyebrows furrowed together, a look of mild irritation at you having broken your unspoken “no touching” rule. You kept your hand on his arm and gave him a shit-eating grin before grabbing the candy bowl from his hands and returning to the island. You and Judith placed your gumdrops as the timer rang out, before Rick even comprehended your swindling. “Dad!” Carl whined, “We needed those gumdrops!” Rick scoffed and returned to the island, catching your eyes, “Wasn’t fast enough. ‘Sides, I think ours looks perfectly fine without gumdrops.” A glob of icing from their gingerbread roof plopped onto the counter. Carl groaned, burying his head in his heads. “So the girls win right? It feels fairly obvious,” Judith ascertained, looking from their house to yours. You met Rick’s eyes again, his gaze unbroken as he spoke, almost as if he was talking directly and only to you,

“Fine. You win.”

~~~

“It wasn’t that bad,” you told Carl. Me when I lie. “Really?” Carl said, as you and the Grimes siblings reached the top of the staircase. “No, it was that bad,” Judith laughed, prompting Carl to smack her arm. Rick stayed downstairs to clean up after the competition while you all got ready for bed. You said your goodnights to Carl and joined Judith in her room to watch Love, Actually. It was a welcome distraction for the few hours before bed, but you couldn’t help checking the clock every so often. The second the movie was over you faked a yawn, stretching your arms outwards to signal to Judith you wanted to go to bed. You had replayed your game-plan for the night countless times, making sure you had a realistic excuse to leave her room as abruptly as you wanted. You turned to Judith to lie about needing sleep when you discovered that she was passed out, snoring lightly into an old stuffed animal. You crept out of the room, careful not to disturb her; but knowing her, she could sleep through a hurricane. You shut her door and padded towards your room on the other side of the staircase, taking note of the sliver of light peaking out from under Rick’s closed bedroom door. You sat on your bed taking a deep breath. What the fuck were you doing??

You shook it off, trying to quiet that little voice in your head as you stood again. You opened your shopping bag, and took out the lingerie. Slipping your turtle neck and jeans off, it sent another rush of excitement to your core when you again spotted the marks Rick left on you. You admired them in the mirror, before tugging on the lingerie and taking a step back. Damn. If he could resist you like this he was much stronger than you thought. What the fuck are you doing? You adjusted the straps. What is wrong with you? You sat back on the bed, staring at your reflection still. What were you doing? You spent your hard-earned money on lingerie to seduce your best friends dad...

Jesus Christ that’s grim.

You looked over to the photo of Carl, Judith and you posing with Santa from earlier today that you had placed on your night stand. A pang of guilt hit your stomach where your excitement and arousal used to be. You suddenly felt ashamed when you looked back towards the mirror. Get a grip. You needed to clear your head. 

You threw on your robe and headed for the door, a cold shower would do. You felt your way through the dark hall before flicking on the light switch. As light flooded the hallway, you were shocked to see Rick standing in the doorway to his room. The entirety of the english language flew out of your brain, seeing him standing there in his jeans and t-shirt, cocking his stupid sexy head at you. Why hadn’t he gone to bed yet?

You were saved the torture of stringing together a sentence when he spoke first, “Somethin’ wrong with your bathroom?” he asked. He blinked, seeming to regret his harsh delivery. You adjusted your robe, “I was just gonna shower.” He nodded, his fingers tracing the doorframe idly. “S’alright if I brush my teeth first?” Such a domestic question, it felt odd to give him permission in his own house, “Go ahead.” He nodded again and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. It had to be a sign. Go for it.

Before your brain wrapped around what was happening, your legs were already moving towards his bedroom. You hoped the sound of the faucet running disguised your anxious footsteps. You sat primly on his bed, enamored with the way his scent seemed to sink into everything he owned. You never wanted to leave this room. You twiddled your feet nervously. WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING. The faucet stopped. Your heart beat rapidly, threatening to burst out of your chest. You took a deep breath, searching for that confidence hiding somewhere inside you.

The bathroom door opened and Rick entered the bedroom, stopping short in the doorway. He was certainly surprised, but not shocked. “What are you doing?” He asked, half closing the door. “I couldn’t sleep without…” you paused, finding your words, your confidence, “I got you a christmas present.” Your voice sounded sultry, hardly recognizing it as your own. “Y/n-” Rick warned, but you cut him off, standing now, “If you don’t like it, I’ll leave. I promise. We can go to bed and pretend like nothing happened.” Your hand fell to the robe tie at the front of your body, and his eyes followed you down. He swallowed, and nodded lightly. You unlaced the knot and let the robe slip from your shoulders and onto the ground.

You were not ashamed now, you were not guilty, you weren’t even nervous. You felt like a whole new person standing there before Rick.

He closed the door the rest of the way. 

***

notes: omg guys I'm so sorry for the wait I've been crazy busy with school work but DON'T WORRY! The next chapter is already started and I'm hoping to finish it this weekend! Please make this chapter do numbers, repost, reblog, like, the last one was my fav but it didn't do so good 😭 Anywayssss I hope you guys enjoy <3 the next chapters gonna be so fucking good tee hee

[cherrycherrylady2024]

More fics?

Don't worry, more chapters are coming but for future reference would yall be interested in some Daryl Dixon content?? 👀 Or TLOU Joel Miller? My three husbands fr

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 3.9k

Warnings 18+: NSFW, Kissing, biting, hair pulling, hickeys, teasing, fingering, oral sex (Rick Grimes munch era), dry humping, finger sucking, pet-names (honey/doll), orgasm denial? a splash of pain play? praise, aftercare <3

Chapter 6: A Man Starved

You had imagined your world would explode by now; fireworks would spontaneously erupt from behind the kitchen counters, wedding bells would ring, or a marching band might emerge from the refrigerator. But that was not the case. Time seemed to stand still when you kissed Rick Grimes. His hand was still gripping your thigh, and his lips were still connected to yours, yet it was like kissing a statue. He did not move a muscle. With your lips still pressed against his, you felt your blood run cold. Your stomach sank. You have made a horrible mistake. You just kissed your best friend's father. FUCK!

A chill ran down your back as you pulled away from the kiss, a small pop of your lips parting filling the air. You tried to gauge his reaction. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenching as though he were in deep concentration, and his chest moved up and down as he breathed deeply. You felt a million words pile up in your throat, ready to spew out at him. And yet you couldn’t speak. It was as though you had swallowed your tongue, and even if you knew what to say, you couldn’t. You were both still for a few moments. In truth, the entire ordeal from when you kissed him to where you are now had only been around 15 seconds, yet it felt like an eternity. Your hand had been cupping the side of his face, but now it rested again on his shoulder. 

Still unable to form words, you attempted to comfort him with a small squeeze and stroke of your thumb. You had hardly done this before his other hand seized yours, and an iron grip encompassed your wrist. It wasn’t painful but it was certainly not gentle. Not as gentle as he had just been only moments ago, tending to your injuries. He didn’t tear your hand away, he just stopped you right where you were. It was like he couldn’t take it. You were both helpless, dangling off the edge of a cliff. Would he let go? Rick finally opened his eyes and met your gaze so intensely you’d swear he could see right through you. His eyes were wide, his pupils black as night and blown out, leaving only a faint ring of blue encompassing them. His expression was a melting pot of lust, fury, desperation, want, worry, and surprisingly a hint of fear.

He was afraid.

You couldn’t claim to be remotely confident, but the fact that he may be just as scared or worried as you are was oddly comforting. You tried to take this all in. All you wanted to do was ease his distress, but at this point, it seemed that nothing would work. You stared right back. You had once described him as a magnet, and nothing had ever been more accurate. It was downright impossible to look away. You breathed in sync. Something transpired in those moments that passed, a sort of wordless exchange that you couldn’t explain. His gaze never changed but ever so incrementally, he began to move. His grip was still tight on your wrist as he brought it nearer and nearer to his face. You held eye contact, trying to seem unphased, but your body nearly vibrated in anticipation and anxiety. He brought your hand to his mouth. You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding when he placed a deep kiss to your palm once more. It was like a dam breaking. You were both free-falling now. His eyes fluttered closed. He turned your hand and placed a kiss on your wrist, picking up speed. Your heart thumped so loudly you wondered if he could feel your pulse on his lips. He wasn’t anywhere near done. Here he was, Officer Rick Grimes, his head dipped low, planting insatiable kisses up your arm, growing ravenous for more of you. Clearly, something had snapped inside of him. He kissed your shoulder voraciously and you felt his teeth graze your skin. Oh god. You had to be dreaming. You breathed heavily, trying to contain yourself. His other hand reached behind and cupped the back of your neck, his fingers intertwining with your hair. If you thought you were tongue-tied before, now your brain was like white noise and the only sounds emerging from your mouth were low whimpers and huffs. It took everything you had to keep your volume down when he reached your collarbone, sucking roughly on the protruding area. Finally, he buried his face in your neck, swiping your hair away first, and bunching it in his hand, tilting your head back.

He wanted to eat you alive. He kissed and nipped and sucked, his beard roughly scratching your throat. You were in heaven. His grip on your wrist had disappeared and, now free, your hand flew to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair just as you had imagined so many times before. You pressed his head in harder, begging for more. He was now at your jaw. “Rick,” you said, not sure where you were going with that, yet it was the only word you could remember. Rick Rick Rick Rick. He loomed above you now, your noses gently touching. He pulled your head back gently, tugging on your hair. You both breathed heavily, swapping each other's air. He stared down at your lips. Your hands were placed, one on his chest and the other on the side of his neck. There was so much to take in. The hard muscle of his torso, his heart beating beneath it, his dark curls brushing the tips of your fingers, the lingering taste of whiskey you got from your small kiss. You needed more. You chuckled nervously under your breath and tried to steady your breathing. This was the last chance for either of you to back out.

Not a fucking chance.

Without warning, Rick cut off your air supply, crashing his lips into yours in a desperately rough kiss. You weren’t laughing now. You moaned into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair, pulling him closer and closer as if that was physically possible. Fireworks didn't erupt, but a raging bonfire had just begun. You tugged on his curls, eliciting a deep groan from Rick, muffled by your own lips against his. Your teeth clashed together messily, neither of you caring to slow down or be gentle. You sucked on his bottom lip and bit down slightly. He pulled your head back further, completely at his mercy, your neck craned up to him. His tongue pressed against your lips before you swiftly granted him entrance, both your tongues now dancing in between your mouths.

Now you were really tongue-tied…

...Shut the fuck up!

You could taste the whiskey on his breath. His other hand had explored downwards, squeezing your breast before settling at your waist, gripping you hard as if in fear that you would fade away. His thumb massaged your skin, your thin tank top had ridden up around his big calloused hands. Not that he minded. You whined, louder now, at the skin-on-skin contact, his rough warm hands fondling the smooth skin of your waist. He inhaled sharply, his hand exploring further in the hopes of eliciting more of those noises from your throat. His hand was caressing your thigh crease now, teasing you, massaging the area. He kept your head tilted almost painfully back… again, not that you cared, especially when his mouth found your throat again. Frankly, if he broke your neck you’d be thanking him. He sucked on your neck, clearly not thinking about what people would say when you came down to breakfast with spontaneous hickeys. He was lost in you, thinking of nothing else.

That was until he bit down on the flesh connecting the base of your neck to your shoulder, and you all but cried out in delight. The pain from his sharp canines sent you over the edge. Something so animalistic. So desperate. It was indescribable. In an instant he pulled back, clapping his wide left hand across your mouth. Somehow that was even hotter, and you whined into his palm. A small smile played on his lips as he gently shushed you, shaking his head. You looked up at him through your lashes, your eyebrows knit together, playing up the pathetic desperation you truly felt. Rick leaned down, his lips brushing your ear, “Shhh. You have to be good, honey.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, your eyes fluttering, rolling back to stare at the ceiling. His right hand traced the skin of your thigh, so feather-light it was almost ticklish. He returned to your ear, “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” Oh my god. His fingers played with the hem of your shorts, slipping under tantalizingly, causing you to whimper beneath his hand. You could just hear the smug smile in his voice, “Hm?” His hand was up your pajama shorts now, if you could even call them that. He fingered the edge of your underwear, letting the elastic snap against your skin. You nodded hastily, pushing your hips forward into his hand. He laughed quietly, his pointer and middle finger now tracing the outside of your panties. The tiny bit of friction made you nearly jump out of your skin. Rick kissed your throat, and you could feel his smirk against your skin.

“What is it, hm?” he teased, continuing his languid strokes against your covered pussy. A low, pleading whine escaped your throat. “Ohh,” he said smugly, cocking his head. “Is that alright? Right there?” he emphasized ‘there’ by closing in on your clit, giving it all his attention. You moaned beneath his hand, desperate, unabashed. He was taunting you, but also making one last check that you were okay with this. You nodded again definitively. His fingers applied more pressure, pressing little circles exactly where you needed him to. He straightened up to face you, or rather, look down at you. He let his hand fall away from your mouth to the side of your face.

You wondered what you must look like: your legs spread wide for him, your chest heaving, nipples hard from the cold, your neck spattered with darkening red spots from his mouth, your cheeks flushed, lips swollen red, and your eyes which were basically begging him to fuck you. Clearly, he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. Your eyes raked down his body, not bothering to hide it as your eyes lingered on the impressive bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. He let you look for a few moments, basking in the mesmerized expression on your face. His thumb stroked your bottom lip, drawing your attention back to his face. You could still see it bubbling up beneath his steely exterior, the urge to bend you over right then and there on his kitchen counter. But he knew better. For all Rick’s ferocity, he was surprisingly willing to move slowly, choosing to watch you fall to pieces rather than get right down to the nitty-gritty of it all. He wanted to draw it out from you. God, it was so fucking hot.

He peered down at you, studying how you reacted to every movement he made between your legs. Your eyes were closed again in bliss, but you began to move your lips around his thumb, bringing the tip of it into your mouth, as if you were doing it subconsciously. You sucked it gently, letting your teeth graze against his finger pad, moaning around it while his fingers fucked you. You ground your hips down for more, more, more, and he obliged. Your mouth fell open around his thumb when he gently slipped the tip of his finger into your core, still massaging your clit with his thumb. There are simply no words. Fucking Christ it felt so good.

“That alright doll?” Rick muttered, his gravelly southern accent thickening, growing huskier. You nodded, barely registering his words. He tsked at you, “M’gonna need you to use your words,” he rasped. You murmured under your breath, swallowing hard, “Y-yes. God please yes!” He kissed the words quickly off of your lips, then pulled away again to watch you. He slid his finger in more, hooking it, creating a ticking time bomb in your G-spot. You stifled a moan, making it come out more like a petulant whine. He picked up speed. You couldn’t take it. You lurched forward, pressing his fingers in deeper, and grabbed him by his hair. You brought your lips only a millimeter apart before dodging and heading for his neck. He chuckled lightly and you could feel the vibrations with your mouth below his jaw. You peppered him with kisses in between half-stifled moans. You let your teeth drag against his skin, sucking and letting go just before a mark would appear. “Y/n…” he muttered from above you, his voice surprisingly unsteady. It was almost like a competition. He knew you were trying to get him to break, and it was almost working, but he was going to get you there first. His fingers picked up the pace and you gasped into his shoulder, biting down hard to quiet your moan, evoking a growl from Rick. You scrunched your eyes closed, the heat building in your core, unable to focus on anything else. You were dangerously close to coming.

In a last-ditch effort, you drew your hand down to his crotch, palming his hard-on through his pants. From what you could feel…damn. He let out a breath at the sudden contact, leaning into it just slightly. Finally, you felt like you had some control. You slipped your hand under his shirt, feeling his warm, taut, lower abdomen, the same you had been hypnotized by only two days before. Jesus Christ, that was only two days ago? Just as you breached the waistline of his pajama pants, he pulled away, his fingers withdrawing from your entrance. You inhaled sharply in surprise, which preceded your desire to punch him in the face for stopping when you were so close. “Rick, what-” you began before he swiftly cut you off by picking you up, pressing your bodies together briefly, and plopping you down abruptly on the very lip of the counter, as close to the edge as possible. Wordlessly, he sank to his knees before you. You no longer wanted to punch him in the face. Rick looked up at you briefly, his blue eyes catching the light before he pulled your shorts away.

Oh my god? Oh my god.

He kissed and bit your inner thighs, letting his tongue drag across your flesh, tasting you. He found the bruise again and kissed it, sucking hard without warning, the pleasure and pain mixing to create an addicting sensation you couldn’t bare. You were just about to beg him to touch you when, without a hint of hesitation, he at last stuffed his face in between your legs. He inhaled your scent deeply and moaned into your pussy. You nearly fell back in absolute euphoria. You could feel his nose against your clit, then a warm wet sensation through the fabric of your underwear. His mouth enveloped your folds, licking and sucking, tasting you through your ruined panties. Again with the teasing, the prolonging of the experience. He was either a sadist or the most patient man in the world. There was something so undeniably erotic about it all. He could have just as easily taken your underwear off along with your shorts. But he didn’t. He was drawing this out for you.

He pressed kisses to your clit, his tongue exploring every soaked inch of the scrap of fabric that barred him from your aching pussy. Finally, he hooked his fingers around the waistband and tore your underwear off and away. The cold air was shocking to your bare cunt and you let out a hiss between your teeth. Luckily, his wet hot mouth returned swiftly to ease your discomfort. You sank back to your elbows, unable to contain yourself. One of his hands gripped your thigh, and the other trailed up to grope your breast under your shirt, using some of your wetness and his spit to gently play with your nipple. Fuck he was good. He slipped his tongue in and out of your hole, an entirely new sensation that you would now demand from him daily for the rest of your life. He’d probably do it too.

Rick feasted on you like a man starved.

Your hand found his hair, holding it tightly moving his head along with the rhythm of your hips. He hummed into your folds, the deep sound penetrating your core, making you moan out. You quickly checked yourself, biting down on your other hand to keep quiet. And yet he didn’t seem to register it at all. He was totally and completely captivated between your legs. He sucked on your clit, licking at the sensitive bud. His beard against your cunt and your thighs was better than you could have possibly imagined. You were getting close again, a swirling sensation building in your stomach, your heart beating a mile a minute. Though the room was slightly chilly in the dead of winter, your face was red hot, and you could feel beads of sweat forming on your forehead. He focused his mouth on your clit, and slipped a finger in between your folds, pulling the same move as earlier. Except Rick’s mouth in place of his thumb was no contest. You never wanted his tongue to leave your body, even for a second. He could tell you were nearing the edge, moaning and whining above him, thrashing your hips which he held in place. Your thighs started to clench. You removed your hand from your mouth and joined it with the other in Rick's hair, pushing his head deeper if it were possible. He groaned into you again at the feeling and added another finger. “Ah- - fuck- - Rick!” you stuttered, unable to think clearly. The sounds of his sucking and humming against your sex, along with the wet squelch of his fingers fucking your entrance, were downright pornographic and only added to your impending orgasm.

He looked up at you then, moments from your climax, and pressed a wet kiss to your lower stomach,

“C’mon honey, show me how you come.”

That was it. You let out a choked sob. A tidal wave ran through your body, and although the sight before you was magnificent, you screwed your eyes shut instinctively as you came. You swear you saw stars. His mouth returned to your clit just in time, guiding you through the waves of pleasure that racked your body. Your legs twitched on either side of his head as he lapped up his dessert, leaving gentle wet kisses to your overstimulated folds. He slowed and finally tore himself away. Feeling as though you had just regained consciousness, your heavily lidded eyes followed him as he stood up. Your lips parted and panting, his face wet with come, spit, and your slick, his hair a mess of your own doing. Good lord, the way he looked at you. Like he was the happiest man in the world, like he wanted to go right back in for round two, like he would never ever get enough of you.

You were still trying to regain your breath when he slipped the two fingers that had previously explored your opening, into his mouth. Rick's eyes shut as he sucked them off, your mouth agape at the sight. “Mmm,” he groaned, “honey you taste good.” You let out a breathy laugh, unable to believe what you were seeing. He cocked his head, his smile reappearing, “What, you don’t believe me?” You said nothing, only shrugging your shoulders lightly with a coy smile. He ran his hands up your thighs, pressing in closer to you but leaving room between his hard member and your bare crotch. He caught your lips, and you let out a light moan into his mouth. He deepened the kiss and you could taste yourself on his tongue, feel the wetness on his face and in his beard. It was incredibly sexy. The way he was on his knees for you. How hungry, how desperate he was for you. You couldn’t believe it all. 

He pulled away, seemingly satisfied with his meal. Rick gradually crouched, sighing, reminding you of his age. He had spent all that time on his knees with no complaints, just for you. He grabbed your sopping wet panties from the ground, and then your shorts. Standing again, he placed them on the base of your ankles and slowly pulled them up around your hips, punctuating his redressing you with a soft kiss. Before he could pull away, you deepened the kiss ferociously, begging for more as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in. You could feel how hard he was against your aching core, immediately stoking that fire within you. You pressed into him harder as you kissed him. He smiled into your mouth, chortling as he pulled back, much to your dismay. He held your jaw gently, keeping your lips from distracting him. “Ya must be tired, honey. I think it’s time for bed.” You furrowed your brow at him, pouting in the hope that you could make him fold. You didn’t want this night to end.

He chuckled and began to turn away from you, but you stopped him, locking him in with your legs. He sighed, his hand patting your thigh patronizingly, “Y/n,” Rick warned. You look up at him innocently as you ground your hips into his hard bulge, “What?” you teased. His jaw clenched as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, his hand gripping your thigh. He humored you for a moment, letting you rut yourself into him, running your hands up his chest to the back of his neck. He sighed grumpily before his hands suddenly gripped your waist. To your surprise he rolled his hips into yours just once, making you moan just slightly at the friction against your pussy. He held you there, staring down at you until he connected his lips to yours once more. It was a deep, almost romantic kiss that you immediately got lost in, not registering his move until it was too late; he grabbed your ankles from behind his back and opened your legs, freeing himself. It was a distraction. Asshole.

You scoffed grumpily as he strode over to the sink, filling up a glass of water. He turned, a small triumphant smile on his face as he came back to you. He pressed the glass of water into your hand and sternly said, “Drink. Then bed.” You grumbled but took the glass of water and downed it, not realizing how thirsty you were. He took the glass back from you with pride and placed it in the sink. You peeled yourself off the counter, landing on shaky legs and feeling your arousal spread along the inside of your thighs. Rick swiftly reappeared, holding you by your waist, steadying you. You looked up at him as he held you, one of his hands coming to cup the side of your face, brushing back a few pieces of hair tenderly. Though you were disappointed the night was over, you had never felt more safe. He led you up the stairs to your room and tucked you into your bed, after you refused to take off your ruined shorts and underwear; you didn’t want to part with them just yet.

“Goodnight y/n. Sweet dreams,” Rick kissed your forehead and was gone. Almost immediately drifting to sleep, you couldn't wait until tomorrow night. 

***

notes: im so sorry this took so long i just started classes again so i've been kinda busy, but I hope you all like this chapter! It is literally just porn but like... YASSS! Enjoy!

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Next chapter coming soon sry for the wait 😝❤️ it’s so worth it tho I promise

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 3,327

Warnings 18+: Drinking, mentions of sex, kissing, incredible sexual tension, very sensuous bandaging, this is so hot i love this chapter

Chapter 5: Reach out and touch

It felt like a sign. Or instant karma. Your face was hot with embarrassment as you shakily picked yourself up, stumbling twice in the process. Judith and co. had already made a full lap around the rink and skated up to you at the perfect time to watch you fall yet again. “Shit, y/n! Are you okay?” Judith exclaimed, quickly skating over to you and helping you stand. Why the fuck is everyone in this town an Olympic pro skater? You brushed it off with a laugh, concealing your chagrin. Your unfortunately un-gloved palms were already red and thumping with pain, along with your knee which had smashed into the ice. Marsha looked you up and down, a hint of a sneer on her lips, “Do you want one of those?” she questioned, pointing at a kid wobbling around the ice, using a walker. A few others were strewn about, clearly meant for the idiots who couldn’t skate. Judith shot her a look and you tried to conceal your irritation. “No, thanks though. I’m just rusty,” you say gritting your teeth. Marsha smiled faux-sweetly and zipped off, spraying a bit of ice in her wake. Daniel looked at you, a hint of worry, before following Marsha. “I’m sorry y/n, Marsha’s a bitch sometimes,” Judith said, interlinking her arm with yours. You didn’t respond, as you felt tears prickling the back of your eyes. Everything was bubbling up to the surface. You were feeling so many things so heavily and quickly that you weren’t sure how to handle it all.

But still, you refused to cry. 

Judith did a lap with you around the rink as you gained your bearings, before you shooed her off to try on your own. She stayed a few feet away, watching you, in case you fell. She was a good friend. Your best friend. And you wanted to fuck her dad. You are despicable. Every time you fell, you almost felt like you deserved it. You got the hang of it just barely towards the end, but only after slamming into the barriers, the ground, and a few other people. After an hour on the ice, your hands were scraped and bruised, your pants torn on one knee, and you ached all over. Marsha and Daniel said their goodbyes, which you barely acknowledged. The car ride home was quiet between you and Judith, except for some Christmas music playing over the radio. You kept your eyes trained out of the window, exhausted emotionally and physically. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see her glancing at you now and then. She finally spoke, “Y’know…you could’ve told me you can’t skate.” She said this gently, not judging. It wasn’t accusatory, or mean, or bitchy, she was entirely genuine. Your frustrations melted away. You loved her. You looked at her tiredly, not saying anything as she returned your gaze. After a moment, a small smile began to form on her lips and you couldn’t help but return it. You let out a giggle. She snorted, her smile growing. Before you knew it you were both cackling with laughter, Judith even wiping a tear from her eye. It was pretty ridiculous, you look like you had been in a bar fight. Judith slowed to a stop in front of Carol’s house again and Carl got in the car, your laughter just winding down. He paused for a second, “What happened to you?” he questioned. You and Judith immediately burst into laughter again. You felt better.

~~~

You walked back into the Grimes house, your bones aching. You wanted a hot shower and perhaps a few bandaids. You remembered with feverish excitement that Rick would be home, and you headed into the kitchen, assuming he would be preparing dinner. Except he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the dining room either. Or the living room. You felt both panic and disappointment rise in you. “Dad’s working late again!” you hear Judith yell from the kitchen. You speed walk back in, and try to seem nonchalant. Judith flicks a note towards you, “He didn’t leave pizza money either. Leftovers I guess.” You picked up the note, reading and re-reading it.

‘Working late, not sure when I’ll be home. Be good. Sweet dreams if I don't see you - Dad’ 

It was a simple note, probably scrawled quickly during his lunch break. Not much to read into. Except you were nearly 100% sure the last line was meant for you. It had to be. While you were supremely let down, you also felt a sense of vindication. It was there. It was real.

The three of you heated up Chinese leftovers and enjoyed your small feast on the couch, watching Christmas movies. You had fully emerged from your bit of moodiness and enjoyed Judith and Carl's company. Sure Judith had a terrible habit of talking through movies, and yes, Carl couldn’t sit still for more than 10 seconds, but it was a comfort to you. The fireplace warmed the three of you, snuggled up in blankets, and you realized that you felt the most at home you have in a very, very long time. Maybe it was because you felt validated by the note, or maybe you were just tired, but the time flew by surprisingly fast. Before you knew it, Carl was headed to bed and you had said your goodnights to the Grimes siblings. You got in the shower after Judith around 9 pm, the warm water soothing your aching body. You were surprised to find a few more scrapes and bruises that had been concealed by your clothing, but you didn’t care enough to ask for bandaids at this point. You methodically picked out and put on a pair of pajamas before diving under the covers, already chilly. You set your alarm for 2 am, and fell asleep with surprising ease.

~~~

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you tip-toed down the stairs, hoping against all hope that Rick would be in the kitchen. Just like last night. Just like every night for the rest of time if you were lucky. You padded into the kitchen, silent as the dead, holding your breath in anticipation. 

He sat at the kitchen island once more, studying the newspaper's crossword under the small lamp, his whiskey by his side. You breathed a sigh of relief, and he looked up, an expression of mild surprise followed by a smile. “Back again?” He remarked. His smile briefly faltered as he surveyed your appearance; your nearly-see-through tank top which left little to the imagination in the chilly house, your shorty shorts which looked small enough to be underwear, and your scraped and bruised knees. He looked like he wanted to ask, but thought better of it. You had a sudden wave of panic. What the fuck were you doing? “Couldn’t sleep,” you stated. He nodded his head, glancing back down toward his newspaper, “More dreams?” You scoffed and walked over to him, the cold tiles of the kitchen shocking your feet. You sidled up right next to him, standing only a few inches away as he sat. He turned his head slowly, blue eyes wandering up your frame to look at you, his face slightly lower than yours. His expression was slightly questioning yet indulgent of your little show. You glanced down at him with a sly smile before bending over and reading his crossword questions out loud to yourself. You could feel his gaze linger on your body, stretched over him. “This one is wrong, Rick,” you said definitively, pointing out one of the rows he had filled in. Rick, Rick, Rick. You loved to say his name, but you felt a twinge of fear when he looked at you, raising his eyebrow slightly. Didn’t he tell you to call him Rick? The corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smirk. “Oh is it?” he said sarcastically, more of a statement than a question. Your leg brushed up against his, neither of you moving away. “Mhm. Pencil,” you commanded, hand outstretched. He chortled, shaking his head and handing you the pencil.

You had gripped the end of it before he suddenly stopped, and in the blink of an eye, both his hands quickly cupped your outstretched one. “What happened here?” He questioned, more concerned than you expected. You regretted not putting on bandaids earlier, as you felt your face go slightly warm. “Oh- I… fell. Like a lot. On the ice. It was sort of mortifying,” you admitted. You hated the thought of him thinking you were some clumsy kid. He moved your hand around, inspecting it, his grip on your wrist secure and warm. The fingers of his other hand gently brushed across your own, opening up your hand more. He stood and moved past you in an instant, his hand brushing your waist, sending more goosebumps across your skin. “It’s fine really, it doesn’t hurt,” you said. He ignored you, ducking into a cupboard and emerging with a first aid kit. He cracked it open and brought the lamp closer to you two, before patting the counter, “Hop up.” You obeyed and climbed onto the counter. He situated himself slightly in between your outstretched knees, close enough that you could wrap your legs around him if you wanted to. And you did want to. You weren’t embarrassed by your ice skating battle scars anymore. In fact, this was the best possible way this situation could go. Thank god you're terrible at ice skating. You tried not to smile.

Rick put some Neosporin on the butt of each of your hands, his clean fingertip delicately spreading it across your scrape. He was so gentle. So quiet. So present. It was incredibly intimate. He wrapped a thin piece of gauze around both of your hands, and you felt somewhat silly again. Perhaps this was overkill.

That was until he gripped the back of your thigh, spreading your legs further and bringing your right knee closer to his eye level.

You inhaled sharply, but he didn’t seem to notice, his gaze completely and utterly focused on your beat-up knee. It was extremely endearing. You were now situated, legs akimbo, around Rick Grimes. One of his hands held the back of your calf, the other in the middle of your quad, turning your knee this way and that in the light. “You ain’t ever allowed to ice skate again,” he finally declared shaking his head with a smile. You felt like you were on fire like anything could happen in this moment. You tried to maintain control of yourself, chill out. “Yes sir,” you mumbled, not quite as sarcastic sounding as you had meant it to be. Certainly not chill! His eyes flicked up to yours, catching the sheepish look on your face. He smiled to himself as he let go of your leg, reaching for the alcohol wipes in the kit. He peeled one open then looked up at you, “This might sting.” You nodded, nothing could take you away from this moment. He dabbed the wipe gently on your scraped knee and- OW. You sucked in a surprised breath between your teeth, squeezing your eyes closed. “Shhh,” he said, gently caressing your thigh in a soothing gesture, “You’re alright.”

You forgot about the pain almost immediately, his caress much more arousing than soothing. You peeked down at him. His face was inches away from your knee, eyebrows knit up, focusing on sanitizing the scrape as gently as possible. Rick's large hands gripping your thigh, yet working so delicately on your injury. His dark, thick hair with those sexy curls. One had even fallen into his face, and it took all your strength not to push it back for him. Run your fingers through his hair. You wanted nothing more than to touch him. He cleaned the smaller scrape on your other knee before throwing the towlette away. He applied Neosporin again and placed a large bandaid on one and a smaller one on the other. With his thumbs, he stroked the edges of the bandaids firmly, coercing them to stay in place. He rubbed his hands together, inspecting his work, “Alright that should do it. Nothin’ we can do ‘bout these bruises though.” He stood. You didn’t want this to end. You didn’t want him to ever leave between your legs.

It was out of your mouth before you could give it a second thought, 

“Will you kiss it better?”

...

Now would be the appropriate time to crawl into a hole and die. 

You felt an immediate flush grace your cheeks. Rick peered down at you, and you struggled to read his expression. It was like a warning look, but also spirited, like something had stirred inside of him. Like he was entertaining this behavior. He looked hungry. You hadn’t broken eye contact, your lips slightly parted, ready to take back what you said. He studied you for another moment before his hand slid under your leg again, stabilizing it. He slowly knelt, sinking almost entirely in front of you, your legs open wide to him. He maintained eye contact as he leaned forward slightly, and left a soft kiss over your bandaged knee. Your eyelids fluttered and you let out the tiniest shaky breath. He must have noticed, but again said nothing. He wasn’t done. He moved lazily to your other knee, and left another kiss, lingering longer. You were at the precipice of something. All you had to do was reach out and touch. He finished and stood, that same hungry look in his eye, slightly self-satisfied. He could see what he was doing to you.

Rick’s hips were situated in line with your knees, maybe even closer. One of his hands just so happened to stay on your thigh. It was undeniable now. If anybody walked in there was no explaining this. You could cut the tension between you two with a knife. No, not even with a knife. A chainsaw might do the job. You didn’t want him to stop. He seemed as though he was just about to say something, but you interrupted him, stretching out your bandaged hands. Your knuckles bumped his chest, your palms up. You didn’t need to say anything, he understood, that playful look in his eye. He grasped the back of your hand and leaned down. Your fingers cupped his face as he left a gentle kiss to your bandaged hand. His coarse facial hair tickled the soft flesh of your palm. He moved to the other one, again leaving a slightly deeper kiss. You wanted nothing more than to grab his face and connect your lips. You could imagine it so vividly. Reach out and touch. What was stopping you? You couldn’t imagine he’d protest. And yet, to cross that line… you were petrified. As much as you tried to seem suave and confident, this was completely uncharted territory. Maybe in an alternate universe, you were bold, truly bold. Maybe you were already fucking on the kitchen counter. But not in this universe.

He pulled away from your hand. Please don’t stop Please don’t stop Please don’t stop. He started putting away the med kit. No. No. No.

“Ow,” you remarked flatly. 

He turned back to find you pointing at your inner thigh, and the rather large bruise situated only one or two inches from the hem of your shorts. You had no idea how it had appeared, yet there it was. He stared at the bruise, clenching his jaw, the gears turning in his head. You would give anything to know what he was thinking. He looked up at you.

You were taken aback by his stormy expression. You hadn’t seen a look like this on his face before and it took you a few moments to piece it together. There was a kind of frustration behind his eyes, one that you couldn’t wrap your head around. Why would he be angry? It wasn’t a full-on glare, more of a DANGER warning, and yet you could see that same hunger there, ten-fold. It was as though he was desperately holding himself back, and he was losing. You got the feeling Rick didn’t like to lose. He didn’t move. Neither of you did.

You have made a huge mistake. You fucked everything up. What is wrong with you?

He looked away, out of the window, thinking briefly. You were both vividly aware of the line you had asked him to cross. The moments passed at a glacial pace, and you felt frozen in anticipation of what might come. Rick turned back to you and sighed lowly. He set the medical kit back down, maybe a little harder than it needed to be. He drummed his fingers on the box. You gripped the counter anxiously, trying not to let it show on your face. After what felt like an excruciatingly long amount of time, he moved. Rick situated himself back in between your legs, spreading them wider with his hand, a gentle pressure on your knee. He was closer than before, even. You exhaled shakily. He hooked his hand in the crook of your leg, lifting it up. He was still gentle, but you could sense he was holding back. It was the same motion he would do if he was about to put your leg over his shoulder, and you couldn’t shake the image from your head. Reach out and touch. His other hand held your opposite thigh for stability, his thumb stroking your skin gently. He lowered his head languidly, maintaining the same steely eye contact. You breathed heavily. His face was mere inches from your clothed pussy as he dipped his head towards your thigh. He paused, keeping his mouth just slightly away from the mauve bruise, and you could feel his equally heavy breath on your skin. He looked up at you holding your gaze as he connected his parted lips to your inner thigh. His eyes shut as he slowly pursed his lips, leaving the world's most erotic, warm, semi-open-mouthed kiss.

He exhaled through his nostrils like he was relieved of some great burden within himself. Like he was given water while lost in the desert. He didn’t seem to want to stop. Or maybe he just couldn’t. He had given in. His lips didn't leave the spot for quite some time, grazing over the bruise. You could’ve come right then and there. Rick Grimes’ head in between your thighs, his lips on your skin, his fingers gripping you tightly, as though he was trying in vain to restrain himself. He kissed the bruise a second time, and you could swear you felt him lightly suck at your skin. He dragged his bottom lip gradually away from the bruise, traveling down your leg. You could feel his teeth slightly graze your skin. The warmth of his mouth. Shivers racked your body as you let your head fall back slightly, closing your eyes in ecstasy at the lightest touch. His lips eventually departed and he straightened up slowly, his head still bowed, before meeting your eyes darkly.

He was inches away, gazing deeply, lustfully, dangerously into your soul. His hand hadn’t left your thigh. Reach out. You breathed shakily. And touch. Your hand met his on your thigh. Reach out and touch. You traveled slowly up his arm, stopping at his shoulder. He didn’t break eye contact. He didn’t move. You leaned forward, your legs opening up even more for him. Reach out and touch. Your lips were centimeters from his, you shared the same breath, his eyes flicking down to your lips. He wasn’t making this easy for you. You had to cross that line, not him. Your hand met the side of his face. Reach out and touch. 

Maybe it was this universe.

You pressed your lips against his.

***

notes: oh my god. Oh my god. Tee hee thanks for waiting I hope you guys like this one! Also if anyone has any suggestions of things you'd like to see in this story feel free to DM me, I'm always open to input! <3

[cherrycherrylady2024]

this next chapter is something else trust me 🙏🏼👀 coming tomorrow

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 2,827

Warnings: 18+ drinking, mentions of sex/masturbation, flirting?

Chapter 4: Maybe in yours

Rick sipped at his whiskey, gazing out of the darkened window as you all but devoured your fried rice. Surprising nobody, he looked incredibly sexy in pajamas. Why is that always the case? It could be that it's more intimate. Private? No one expects to be seen in their pajamas. Your pajamas are yours alone, not typically to be shared with veritable strangers, yet here he was. He wore a black undershirt that clung to his hardened torso, long, thin, flannel pajama pants, and less-than-perfect hair, all of which had you hooked. He seemed to be in a trance, deep in thought. His thumb absent-mindedly stroked the ridges of his glass. It was fascinating, the fact that he could stand to bask in silence with you. Typically that sort of thing is reserved for very close friendships, where you don’t have to fill every second with yapping. When you’re comfortable with someone, entirely. Either he felt this comfortable, or he simply didn’t care about that sort of thing. Both were admirable.

Should you say something? No. Enjoy the silence. Suddenly he turned to you, his deep, somewhat sleepy-sounding voice breaking the spell of silence throughout the kitchen, “So, gonna tell me why you're awake?” Your eyes went wide and you nearly choked on the bite you had just taken. The question he posed was simple, light, not of great importance in normal terms, and thus did not denote the response you had. But this was not normal fucking terms. He took note of your reaction with a questioning glance. You chewed and swallowed, racking your brain for something to say. You tried to relax your face. Be bold, you reminded yourself. Fuck it. “I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, returning his gaze. He stared at you for a moment, as if weighing his options, before his face melted into a wry smile, “I just made you dinner, which you so rudely skipped earlier. You first.” He knocked back the rest of his whiskey. You were playing a game with each other. Except you didn’t know the rules. You tried to seem indifferent, sliding around the rice on your plate, “I had a weird dream. Woke me up.” He nodded with an unconvinced “Hm,” sliding his finger around the rim of the glass, “Wanna tell me about it?” he questioned. “No,” you declared bluntly. You cleared your throat, “I just- I don’t even remember what it was about.” Me when I lie.

He still seemed unconvinced but nodded his head. You took a bite of rice, “Your turn.” He chuckled dryly, staring out of the window again. He thought for a moment. “I just... I always seem to wake up ‘round this time. Don’t know why exactly. Started-” he stopped himself, “-well, a couple years past. I gave up tryin’ t’go back to sleep a long time ago,” He tilted his glass, reflecting the moonlight, “But havin’ a drink helps most nights.” This was the most words he had ever said to you, and you hung on every single one of them. You didn’t say anything. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand the implication he tried to play off. What were you supposed to say? The man can’t sleep at night because of his dead wife, were you supposed to crack a joke? He turned to you, “Not what you were hopin’ for?” he smiled. You let out a nervous exhale/laugh, “I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe fighting crime?”

He chuckled and stood up with his glass. You felt a bolt of panic run through your body. Please don’t go. “I’m not Batman,” he said, walking over to the bar cart. He gave himself another splash of whiskey, then turned back to you with his hand on his hip, waiting for a rebuttal. The game continues. “Maybe in your dreams,” you teased.

“Maybe in yours."

He took another sip of whiskey as if he didn’t just make your heart stop in your chest. If this was a game, he seemed to be winning. There was no comeback to that. “You’re really not gonna tell me?” he said, ambling back over to the kitchen island. He leaned over it, propped up on his elbows across from you, and made inescapable eye contact. With the way he was leaning, his biceps were flexed hypnotically. You felt a nervous blush begin to grace your cheeks, still not responding. SAY SOMETHING! Your mind was blank. “It must’ve been a scary dream to wake you up,” he prodded. It was beginning to feel like an interrogation, but why was he pushing? What was the goal? Did he know something? You were being sort of sketchy about it, but with good reason. “I wasn’t scared,” you mumbled, “When I woke up, I mean.”

“No?” he nodded his head in thought, “Interesting.”

“Not really.”

“I like to think so.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because dreams can tell ‘ya a lot about a person.”

“And why do you want to know who I am as a person?”

He paused momentarily, thinking. You had been face to face, throwing your words back and forth between you both. You liked it. You were learning the rules of the game. He mulled over what to say and you wondered if he has the same conversations in his head as you do. Is he thinking be bold?

“Because you're my daughter's roommate. It’d be a comfort to know you’re not a serial killer.”

Guess not. You didn’t break eye contact.

“Well rest assured my dream was far from anything like that.”

“Ha! So you do remember!” He exclaimed, pushing away from the counter, leaving his whiskey. Fuck. You let your face drop into your hands, in frustration. “This isn’t fair,” you complain, “your job is interrogating people.” He chuckled, pleased with himself, “Part of it, yes.” He leaned against the counter behind him, his hands gripping the lip. The tinny stove light which he had flicked on while cooking, highlighted his features. You could see the veins in his hands, the definition of his forearms, and the smug grin on his stupid sexy handsome dumb face. You had to do something. You wanted to keep playing. You reached out and slid his half-empty glass of whiskey towards you. He didn’t move, the look on his face still the same, “That’s not yours.” You looked up at him slyly as you silenced every part of your brain with any sense. You brought your middle finger to your mouth, and gently wet the tip of it with your tongue. You didn’t break eye contact as Rick studied every move you made.

You brought your finger down to the glass and began circling the rim. Before long a reverberating humming sound filled the room. He observed you for a moment before slowly coming back over, leaning across the counter towards you. You stop and look up at him through your lashes, “Can I have some?” Without missing a beat he responds, “Will you tell me what your dream was about?” You scoffed, “No.” He smiled, and took the glass back, “Then no.” You sighed, unsatisfied. He took another sip, a twinkle in his eye. You were struck with a mental image of a lion, playing with its food. You were his to play with, and he knew it. He liked this too. A few consecutive moments of silent tension passed, and neither of you broke eye contact. Without warning, he straightened up, “You should be gettin’ back to bed now.” Your heart sank in your chest. What happened? Did you do something wrong? It was past 3 am now, and he was probably right… but he would have to drag you out kicking and screaming to get you to leave him. “I’m not tired, I just slept like 8 hours. I’m ready to start the day,” you joked. He chuckled as he finished his whiskey, “You do that. I’m callin’ it a night.” He placed his empty glass in the sink definitively. There didn’t seem to be anything you could do to stop him. You tried to hide the crestfallen expression written all over your face. He walked over and grabbed your empty plate from behind, and in the same breath, his left hand came down to rest upon your shoulder. You felt the heat of his hand, the pad of his thumb stroking your bare skin imperceptibly. He leaned down just slightly towards your ear, “Sweet dreams, honey.” His hand gave your shoulder a small squeeze and before you knew it he had put the plate in the sink and was gone. You sat there, mouth agape, for an embarrassing amount of time, until you could hear his bedroom door close upstairs.

Fuck.

You returned to your bedroom in a daze, your mind blank. Passing by his door you had a fleeting thought. You imagined what he would do if you just walked right in. Joined him in bed. You wondered if he would even be surprised. You could picture the look on his face with the utmost clarity. For the first time, not every single part of you dismissed the idea as nonsense. You put on your pajamas and get into your own bed. You stared at your ceiling, willing yourself to fall back asleep, to no avail. You weren’t tired. Your mind and body were in a frenzy of activity.  You thought of his arms, propped on the counter. His finger, delicately tracing the details in his whiskey glass. The look in his eyes as you played your game of verbal chess. His hand, unbearably caressing your shoulder. It was all too much. You turned over, trying to shake it off, coming to face his blanket. You breathed in his scent, and as your hand traveled down your body, you decided there were other ways to tire yourself out.

“Good morning!” All of the air was squeezed out of your lungs at the sudden weight on top of you. Half asleep, you tried to push off Judith who had jumped on and was now crushing you. “Off” you gasped. She rolled over, smiling playfully. “I already let you miss dinner, you’re not missing breakfast too,” she declared, shaking you. “I’m awake!” you exclaimed, shoving her away from you. She laughed, “Well you should be. You slept like 12 hours.” You grunted in response, rubbing your eyes. The clock read 8:13 AM. You groggily followed Judith downstairs through the kitchen. It felt like an entirely different world compared to last night. You were led to the quaint dining room right off the kitchen, where Carl sat eating cereal. Rick sat at the head of the table, his face obscured in the newspaper. “G’morning y/n!” Carl exclaimed. Rick flicked a corner of the newspaper down, his eyes skimming over you, “How’d ya sleep?” He knew what he was doing. “Better,” you replied, returning his knowing look. Judith plopped herself down across from Carl, leaving the other end of the table open for you. You settled in, directly across from Rick, who lowered the newspaper towards the table. “Help yourself to whatever you like, y/n,” he said, still reading. There were a few different boxes of cereal, some deep brown pancakes, eggs, bacon which verged on burnt, fruit, and orange juice. Your fried rice had not stuck with you, so you helped yourself to everything. Knowing that Rick cooked it, burnt food had never tasted so good. Judith, who had clearly gotten used to Rick's cooking, was busy polishing off two pancakes drenched in butter and syrup.

“So, what are you girls getting up to today?” Rick questioned, sipping his coffee. Judith chewed thoughtfully, “Mm, well, I think I’ll drive y/n around town, show her KCHS. Maybe we’ll go ice skating too, it’s ‘sposed to be colder today.” Rick nodded, “Tomorrow ya’ have to take Carl with you. Think up what you guys can do.” Judith groaned in protest, slumping in her chair. “I don’t want to babysit, Dad” she complained. Rick had a look on his face like he’d heard this a thousand times, “It’s not babysitting if it’s your brother. He’s going over to Sophia’s today for her birthday, but tomorrow you’re watchin’ him. Drag him shopping with you.” Both Carl and Judith groaned. “I need to do some Christmas shopping still. I’d hate to go to the toy store alone…” you offered. Carl brightened up then, as did Rick who gave you an approving look. “You should get your sister a gift for putting up with ‘ya. Maybe y/n too,” Rick said, standing and ruffling Carl's hair. It was only then that you noticed he was in uniform, his shirt unbuttoned showing his white tee beneath it. For some reason, you had been blind to the fact that, obviously, he still had to work. You felt a wave of disappointment overtake you, realizing you wouldn’t see him again until that evening. At least you would be distracted for a while. Rick began buttoning up his shirt. He bent down and kissed Judith on the head, “Be good, girls. Drop Carl off at Carol's around 10:30, okay?” Judith nodded, cutting another bite of pancakes. He smiled and winked at you, “Have a good day,” and exited.

He smiled. And winked.

...Which could mean nothing. 

After dropping off Carl, Judith showed you around town. King County was completely decked out for the holiday season, which helped to brighten your spirits. It was like a Hallmark movie. She showed you her high school, her old softball field, her favorite coffee shop where you had the best hot chocolate of your life, and finally the ice skating rink. You were interested in it all, of course, but you couldn’t keep your mind from continually trespassing into forbidden territory. You counted down the seconds until you’d see him again. Two of Judith's friends from home met you both at the rink, providing further distraction. You tried your best. The four of you sat, lacing up your skates as they reminisced. You found yourself zoning out, giving up trying to tie your laces. “Do you need help?” You looked up. Judith’s friend, stood before you, a smile on his face, his skates impeccably laced. He had introduced himself earlier but you couldn’t quite remember his name. David? Daniel? He was still waiting for a reply. “Oh! Uh yes, thanks. I never do these right,” you say. He chuckles and kneels down in front of you, “It’s okay, I used to be the same way before I started hockey.” You didn’t say anything. You didn’t really care, to be honest. It felt like no one mattered but Rick. He laced up your skates in silence and stood with a satisfied smile, extending his hand to you. It took you a moment to register before you took his hand and shakily stood. David/Daniel offered his arm to help you walk over to the rink, “Uh I’m okay. Thanks,” you said, smiling half-heartedly. He nodded and walked over to Judith and her friend (Marsha! You remembered triumphantly), and you followed wobbling behind.

The four of you made your way to the ice rink, which was surprisingly full for a weekday. David/Daniel and Marsha entered the rink before a group passed the entrance. As you and Judith waited to enter, she turned to you, her eyes alight, “Dude. He totally likes you!” she exclaimed. You furrowed your brows, “Who?” She rolled her eyes, “Daniel! He had total heart eyes the second he saw you!” she deepened her voice, mocking Daniel, “Oh my god, like, do you need help? Ha ha I play hockey, wanna get married?” You knew you were supposed to find this funny, so you laughed, brushing it off, “Oh my god, no. He was just being nice, he doesn’t even know me.” Judith wiggled her eyebrows at you playfully and shrugged before entering the rink, with surprising agility. They all seemed to be able to skate very well, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them you had actually never been ice skating before. It was colder today, and your breath floated away in white puffs. You didn’t want Daniel to like you. It was fucked up, but you were developing a distaste for normalcy. He was your age, he was nice and fairly attractive. But it didn’t matter. You didn’t want him. You wanted nobody but Rick. Something had changed within you, the fire had been stoked to an inferno and you couldn’t turn away. You will play Rick’s game, your rules or his, and you will win. You set your brow, feeling righteous and determined, and entered the ice. 

You made it about 2.5 seconds before what appeared to be an 8-year-old whizzed past you, causing you to lose your balance and eat shit.

Or ice, rather.

***

notes: sorry for the long wait but here it is! I'm already almost done with the next chapter so that will also be out in the next few days. Enjoy!

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf! Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 2,675

Warnings: 18+ for real. NSFW, some angst, fingering, hickeys, grinding, light choking/hair pulling? I need Rick Grimes so bad

Chapter 3: In your dreams

“So then Martian Man defeats the evil robot, except the robot was actually his half-brother the whole time, so he gets really sad at the end of issue #4. Then in #5 he-” Carl was giving you the entire lore behind his new comic book, and you put on your best listening face, while Judith tapped on her phone, having already heard this. Except you weren’t really listening whatsoever. Your mind was in a frenzy of activity. Did he see? Does he know? Who are you kidding, of course he knows. Your face was still red with embarrassment since the incident half an hour ago. If only Carl and Judith weren’t expecting you, you’d have hidden under Rick’s blanket for the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of winter break, but who’s to say?

You wanted to punch him in his stupid handsome face for making you feel like this. Either punch or kiss. Maybe both. That look Rick gave you, you couldn’t get it out of your head. It was nearly a smirk, but more subtle and prideful. Like he knew what he would catch you doing. He knew how you felt. You were petrified to see him again. “...and I haven’t read the new comic yet, but I heard it’s supposed to be pretty good! Do ya wanna borrow it when I'm done?” Carl questioned. You snapped out of your daze. “Oh! Yes, totally. Thanks,” You replied. Judith got up from Carl’s twin bed, where she lounged, “Alright Carl, it’s my turn with y/n. You read your new comic til dinner.” With the word ‘dinner’ you felt your stomach twist unpleasantly, your mind on the verge of implosion. With a whine of “Alriiight,” Carl sat down at his little desk and began poring over the pages. 

Judith led you down the opposite hallway towards her bedroom. As you followed, you passed the only other bedroom in the house. The door was slightly ajar. You heard the floorboards creak underneath him as he padded around the room. Rick was putting away laundry, sloppily folding pants and shirts, and didn’t notice your quick passing. Or at least he didn’t show it. You had lingered back just slightly, but thankfully Judith didn’t notice as you caught right back up with her. “Okay, so I’m right down the hall from you if you need anything. It’ll be weird not sharing a room, right?” she said as she entered her bedroom. “Oh yeah, super weird. What am I going to do without your snoring lulling me to sleep?” you mocked. “You know you love it,” she said, plopping on her bed. Judith's room was adorned with fading pink floral wallpaper, posters, sports trophies, books, and photos. “Anyways this is my room, it clearly hasn't been updated since 2010 but it’s still a vibe,” Judith said. You picked up a photo from her bookshelf. It appeared to be from a high school dance, as Judith wore what could only be considered the ugliest, most ruffled, unflattering dress in the world, and was holding hands with a gawky teenage boy. Both Judith and the boy awkwardly smiled for the photo, turning out more like grimaces with mouths full of braces. “It is totally still a vibe,” you said turning back to her with the picture, containing your laughter. “Fuck off!” she cried, jumping up and snatching the photo from you as you burst out in giggles, “We all make mistakes, it was sophomore year for god's sake,” she said. “I am begging you. Please bring that back to the dorms with us. Please! It can be my Christmas present” you choked out in between laughter, sitting at her desk. Judith gazed at the photo, “I can’t believe I made out with him that night” she said. “Oh god, please no” you responded in horror. “I think our braces got stuck together” she pondered. “PLEASE you’re gonna make me sick” you laughed, covering your ears. Judith snorted and placed it back on the shelf, “Hold on, you’re gonna die when you see this. I think I have it in here,” she said, as she looked hurriedly through her bookshelf. She pulled out a photo album, “Here!” she exclaimed, flipping through the pages. She landed on one and handed it to you, “Talk about bad Prom pictures.”

It was another prom photo, but it appeared to be from the late 80s/early 90s. A tall thin brunette woman grinned widely, almost painfully, at the camera, her dress clearly a hand-me-down from the mid-80s. She held awkwardly at arm's length a man who looked a year or two older. He wore a suit with a ruffle on the collar, which also screamed hand-me-downs. If it weren’t for those eyes, you wouldn't have even recognized Rick Grimes. He looked much less self-assured, maybe even nervous, and probably 10 years younger than the photo you had seen of him in the hallway. “The fucking posing gets me every time, look at my mom's face” Judith laughed. Your stomach started to hurt. “That's your mom?” you questioned. “Yeah,” Judith replied, “The whole photo album’s pictures of her. We made it right after she died as like a commemorative therapy type-thing. Flip through it,” She suggested as she began unzipping her suitcase. You turned the pages slowly. Rick was in many of the photos, but most prominently featured was Mrs. Grimes. You didn’t even know her name. Judiths mom. Ricks wife. The anxious knots in your stomach seemed to tighten more and more. “I’m gonna go lay down.” You stated, hurriedly standing, leaving the photo album on the desk. Judith looked up at you from her suitcase with a hint of concern. “I’m just – tired. I’ll let you unpack,” you added. “Okay,” Judith shrugged. You began to leave, “Oh and I think dinner’s at 7!” she mentioned. Your stomach did flips, but you gritted your teeth, “Okay!”

You shut your bedroom door behind you and climbed into bed, wrapping the covers around yourself. The clock on your nightstand read 5 pm. Your mind was racing. You felt sick with anxiety. Were you a bad person? Are you imagining this all? Every look, or brush of the hands. Were you convincing yourself of something that isn't really there? He's a grown married man. What about Judith? Were you going to ruin the best friendship you’d ever had? Have you already ruined it? Rick knew. He must think you’re a freak. A nuisance. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? You couldn’t stop the tornado of thoughts in your mind as you drifted off into a fretful slumber.

~~~

You chopped the large bar of dark chocolate into messy chunks, sneaking a few slivers into your mouth now and then. The kitchen around you was endless, spanning into a vague sea of warm glowing nothingness. In fact, there really was no kitchen at all. Just the kitchen island, where you stood, chopping the chocolate bar. Perhaps you were making cookies. Yes, that's what it was: you were chopping the chocolate bar to put into chocolate chunk cookies. You were content, humming to yourself. Maybe this is all you ever did. It was bright and beautiful and heavenly familiar. Two arms snaked their way around your waist, another familiar feeling, Rick's hips to your back as he held you tightly. You breathed deeply at the sensation, lolling your head back to rest on his chest. He stole a tiny piece of chocolate from your cutting board and slipped it into his mouth. You could feel his belt buckle pressing against your skin, leaving an indentation. His heartbeat reverberated through your body as if you were one, the warmth of his chest against your cheek. Wordlessly he dipped his head down, so close you felt his breath against your neck, you could smell the chocolate, his beard slightly scratching you. You dropped your knife and gripped the counter tightly as you felt his lips ever-so-slightly brush against your throat, neck, and ear sequentially. Almost like he was inhaling you. Searching for the right spot. He hesitated, making you wait. His hands gripped you tightly to him. Almost possessive, like you were his. One slowly traveled completely around your waist to the other side, pinning you to him while the other slid down. His palm was stretched wide, his fingertips brushing past where your thigh connects to your hips. The proximity of his hand to where you wanted so badly to be touched was enough to make you let out a little whine. His grip settles on your pelvis bone as he pulls you to him somehow even tighter. You communicated without words, begging him for more. Anything. He slowly lowered his lips to the side of your neck, leaving a feather-light kiss that sent shivers through your body. You pressed your hips back into him impatiently, needing more. He held your hips in place, his grasp verging on slightly painful. But it felt so good. He lightly kissed your neck again, near your jaw. Then, very slowly he moved near your ear, kissing you again. It was like he had all the time in the world to make you unravel.

He trailed down your neck towards your collarbone, his kisses becoming deeper, his lips parting more and more as if to taste you. You craned your head for more access. More, more, more. He groaned against your neck, grinding his hips into yours. His hands began to move over your body, groping and squeezing. One of your hands ran through his hair, pushing his head, his mouth, closer to your skin. The other hand was on top of his, leading his fingers down, down, down. A nearly pornographic sound escaped your lips when he finally cupped his warm hand in between your legs, his fingers applying just the right pressure to your clothed clit. You felt him smile against your throat, before resuming his languid assault on your neck. You moved your hips against his hand as he continued massaging your aching cunt incredibly slowly. “Please Rick” you begged. He was silent, but his fingers sped up incrementally. His other hand squeezed your breast, tracing your hardened nipple through your shirt. He hummed in your ear, clearly enjoying seeing you like this. You rutted your hips into his hand, the pleasure building in your core. Like a rubber band about to snap. He moved his other hand swiftly from your breast to your throat, slowing you down. He gripped it solidly, making you lose your breath. He turned your head to face him as his fingers sped up. You looked up at him, drunk on pleasure, and panting in his face. He smiled down at you, making eye contact that couldn’t be broken even if you tried. You were reaching your climax and he could tell. He stroked your neck, still looking down at you, then ran his fingers past the nape of your neck and through your hair. He gripped a fistful and pulled gently from the roots, forcing you to twist your head and shoulders even more towards him, cocking your head back. He gazed down at you through lidded eyes, studying your face. Your neck was now more exposed to him and he began kissing and sucking marks into your skin, his fingers never stopping, his other hand still pulling your head back. It was all too much for you. You were going to come. “R-rick-” you stuttered. He kissed a trail up your neck, reaching your mouth but keeping his centimeters apart. You breathed in each other's air and you writhed needily, wanting his lips on yours. You were moments away from coming, and let a choked moan escape. He swallowed it down when he finally connected your lips in the most filthy, needy, sloppy kiss. The rubber band snapped and you came hard. Waves of euphoric pleasure racked your body and you moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss even more. You could taste the hint of chocolate on his lips as you rode out your climax on his hand, your hips stuttering. He pulled away suddenly, right after your peak, and you opened your eyes in surprise.

You were met with the walls of your dark bedroom surrounding you, and Rick's blanket between your legs.

One of your hands was beneath your raised shirt, and the other was gripping Rick's blanket with an iron fist. Your legs still shook from your orgasm as you gained your bearings. It was a dream. You swore you could still taste a hint of the phantom chocolate. Even though no one had seen, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at your… wet dream? Sex dream? Whatever it was. Your subconscious sleeping state had been grinding against Rick Grimes’ blanket as you slept. The dream had felt so real it was unnerving, and you were having difficulty returning to reality. But you also oddly felt better. Maybe it was all out of your system now, and things could just be normal. You were refreshed. Except for the fact that you were extremely thirsty. All that sex dreaming, your brain chimed in. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, but accidentally knocked it off in the dark.

The dark.

Dinner.

What time was it? How long have you been asleep? Sex dreaming, you mentally corrected yourself. You scrabbled for your phone on the ground, flipping it over. The screen lit up, reading 2:12 AM. You had slept through dinner to dream about a fuck-fest with your best friends dad. Woof. While you were still slightly ashamed, you couldn't dispute the fact that it was fucking hot. You kept replaying the dream in your mind. It felt so real. You got out of bed, removed the bundled-up blanket from between your legs, and headed downstairs for some water. The way his lips felt on your neck. His facial hair tickling at your skin. His hands on your body. You knew it was wrong but you wished so badly it was real. Your body clearly did too, as you felt that familiar tingling sensation return in your belly. It made you want to get back in bed and touch yourself until sunrise. Get a grip. You reached the living room and began crossing through to get to the kitchen. 

“Y/n?” came a dark voice from the couch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, letting out a little gasp in surprise. You could make out a figure in the dark, now sitting up. A sliver of snowy moonlight caught his face and you recognized Rick, holding a half-drunk glass of whiskey. “You missed dinner,” he drawled with a smile, taking a sip of whiskey. You were still frozen in the doorway, unsure if this was even real or not. What was he doing awake? “I- sorry. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to sleep so long…” you say. He waved his hand in dismissal, “It’s fine, I know you girls had a long day,” he said, placing his whiskey on the glass coffee table with a clink. “Plus I’ve never been much of a chef. We ended up gettin’ Chinese food,” he added. Your stomach grumbled hungrily at the mention of food, and you clapped a hand over it in embarrassment. Rick chortled, “I can heat some up for you if ‘ya like. We can’t have you starvin’ to death.” He stood, picked up his glass, and walked towards the kitchen. You trailed behind him, “It’s okay, I can do it. You don’t have to” you pestered. “I want to,” he stated, looking at you briefly as he retrieved a container from the fridge. That shut you up. You sat at the kitchen island, your mind wandering back to your dream. If you weren't definitely, totally, over him, this would be pretty nerve-wracking you thought. Good thing I'm all better now. He opened the box of fried rice and, oddly, got out a pan and put it on the stove. Was he reheating it for you on the actual stove? “I really don’t mind, you can just microwave it. I don’t want you to go to any trouble,” you offer nervously. He dumped the fried rice into the pan with a sizzle, and looked over to you with a smile, 

“I want to, honey. Just let me take care of 'ya.”

...

Sooo, actually you lied. You needed this man more than ever before. Fuck it.

***

notes: tee hee hee, i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this. anyways thx for waiting the past few days I hope this is satisfactory, there's a lot more to come! Literally. PS I've never written a sexy scene before so lmk what u think <3