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#old fashioned
autumncottageattic · 7 months
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majarebeckalarsson
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kikisloane · 4 months
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Snowy night in the mountains.
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halloween-sweets · 1 month
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crxmes · 10 months
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@crxmes
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fullcravings · 2 months
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Old-Fashioned Cherry Cake
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madeleineengland · 2 months
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Xuan Lu in hanfu + tuanshan for her 33 birthday
Or... basically Jiang Yanli with a lotus crown
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naturallyobsidian · 8 months
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*She poses as the love of her life immortalized her through photographs*
'You're so beautiful'
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forlornalbatross · 1 year
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I would have been old fashioned - I would have asked your parents' permission or blessing first; to even take you for a walk down the beach or to see the movies & fine dine you like the goddess you are - I would have made you breakfast in bed & listen attentively to every movement in your body when you speak or take you to a museum & all the corridors around the earth that's marvellous just to tell you that the majestic thing you see is  how you made me feel -  but I guess that's not what you wanted. I guess an obsolete ways of treating you in the highest regards is not your cup of tea -
D C de Oliveira | A journal of Rejects, Archaic | January 16, 2023 | Monday, 2.45am
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green-eyedladywrites · 8 months
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The Sheriff's Hat
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Newly divorced Rick Grimes falls for a sweet, innocent (or so he thinks!) school teacher.
Warnings: heartbreak, infidelity (Lori and Shane), then love and sweet smut!
Rick Grimes got ready for work in the morning like everyone else.
Hit snooze once, shower, shave, hang the towel to dry, and drink coffee in the backyard before getting dressed. He meticulously pressed his own uniforms once a week, every Sunday night, to have them ready for the week (even though he was usually off on Mondays). It was an old fashioned routine - the same his grandfather had when he was a sheriff - but it was comfortable for Rick. Comfortable and calm.
But now, every single morning, when he reached for his sheriff's hat on his way out, the memory of you, standing in his bedroom, wearing nothing but that hat, gave him a healthy, erect pause.
He thought you were old fashioned too, at first. You were hired as his 10 year old son's teacher almost a year after his wife left him for his best friend and former partner. Plain long hair, usually tied up in a high bun, a few soft strands loose at the back of your neck. Modest school-teacher outfits, the bulkier the better, to hide your curves from curious pubescent eyes, as well as unfaithful fathers and catty (or jealous) mothers. Maybe just a swipe of berry lip balm on your lips, nothing more. You looked like a school teacher. And everyone loved you.
You were at every activity, recital, sports game, and parent-teacher conference. Carl adored you, and you raved about him as a student. Although Rick couldn't bear to look at any woman with interest, your presence comforted him. Anyone or anything that could make Carl smile, provide stability during the divorce and awkwardness, was in Rick's prayers.
Your first encounter alone together happened during Carl's fifth grade Christmas party in the gymnasium. Rick arrived late, coming straight from work in uniform and with a fresh black eye, earning a scowl from Lori.
"Hal got me," he explained, referencing the old town drunk who was once on his way to fame and riches as a boxer. Even after decades of whiskey, the old-timer could still knock-out any young officer who's turn it was to wrangle him into the drunk tank.
"Still," Lori chided unfairly. She somehow acted as if everything was Rick's fault. As if he had been unfaithful, broken up their family, chose to live apart from his son, somehow deserved to be ashamed in front of neighbors and friends. Wanting only to keep the peace, for Carl, Rick quietly took every one of her hits to his heart.
Carl ran over and squeezed his chest, always excited to see him.
"Dad! Dad! Come and see!" Carl squealed and pulled him towards the folding tables full of potluck food and drinks. He gestured near the lunch bowl and yelled, "Ta-da!" at a tall snowman made entirely of cotton balls. "Me and Miss Y/N made it today! She even brought in food coloring and we died the nose orange and the buttons black and the hat and- -"
Rick laughed, amused and impressed by the fluffy yet accurate and somehow stable figure. You appeared quietly, smiling, and said, "Carl did most of it."
"Isn't it cool, dad?! And I get to take it home too!," Carl said.
"Very cool," Rick beamed.
Two other kids called Carl over, leaving you and Rick alone at the table.
"I think you need some real snow for that eye," you said, teasing but sympathetic.
Rick smiled and sighed. "Occupational hazard."
"Same," you joked. "This sweater hides the dodge ball bruises."
Rick laughed. For the first time in months. And suddenly realized how pretty you were.
"Follow me," you said, heading for the hallway. For some reason, by some instinct, without question, Rick followed you all the way to the nurse's office.
You took an ice pack from the cabinet and broke it up in your hands, activating the cooling effect. Rick began to protest but you shsh'd him and reached up to delicately place it on the swelling beside his eye.
Despite the ice, heat flashed through Rick's body at your touch. He swallowed hard, unsure where to look. He twitched and jumped back when his pants began to strain, barely risking you feeling it. He held his hat in front of his crotch and replaced your hand with his on the pack.
"Thanks- - thank- - thank you," he stuttered, feeling like a high school boy again.
"You're welcome. I know it hurts," you said sincerely.
"Oh, this," Rick dismissed, "it's fine, this is nothing."
"I didn't mean your eye."
He looked squarely at you and lowered the ice pack,
It did hurt. So fucking much. More than anyone could imagine. Except maybe you. You seemed to know.
Tears spilled over his eyes, without warning, bringing only more humiliation, more shame, more regret on top of more than he could already bear.
He sat and wiped his face hurriedly, repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry- -"
You sat beside him and took his hand. Your touch instantly eased him.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said and handed him some tissues. "Let it out. It helps. Trust me."
You smiled at him softly in understanding. He realized he did trust you. But he was afraid if he let it all out, he'd never stop.
"You, uh… been in my spot?" He asked.
You nodded. "My fiancé. My sister," you revealed.
"Ouch," Rick commented.
"Look, I don't know the details. But I don't like seeing anyone hang their head. And from what I've seen, you're the best father in this whole town."
Rick felt his cheeks burn, and his heart soar.
You patted him on the shoulder and stood up to leave.
"Take all the time you need, ok. It's ok to take care of yourself, too."
He sat there for a while after you'd left, until his pride returned and the ice pack felt luke warm. He walked back into the gym just in time for the kids' Christmas chorus. Carl was in the front row, and beamed when he saw Rick sit in the bleachers. Rick realized his son's face lit up like that every time he saw him. Always a hug, an "I love you," "I missed you." Rick still wouldn't say he was "the best" father, but he had to be doing something right for such a happy boy.
Rick saw you at least once a week when he picked up Carl from school for "Dad-dinner" nights. A couple of months later, Valentine's Day fell on a Friday, on Rick's alternate weekend. He got to the school a little early and chatted with the assistant principal about the latest town news - the new traffic light at the intersection, the stricter leash laws, how much rain they'd gotten lately. When every kid filed out except Carl, the staff allowed Rick to go up and see about the delay.
He relaxed when he heard laughter from the classroom from down the hall. You giggled and hugged a broom as you tried to dodge handfuls of pink and red confetti from Carl.
"Ah! I'm hit!" You groaned and slumped onto a desk.
"Stop right there, son. Step away from the lady," Rick smiled, playing along. He picked up his radio but didn't press the button. "Dispatch, this is Grimes, we got a 222 confetti incident at the school."
"Sheriff, thank God!" You cried dramatically.
"You'll never take me alive, Copper!" Carl shouted gleefully, holding the dustpan brush like a gun.
You all broke and gave in to fits of laughter. You wiped tears from your eyes and confetti off your sweater, which was red and tighter than usual. Your generous chest drew Rick's eyes as you caught your breath. Your hair was half down and curled at the bottom, and small heels peeked out from beneath your long dress. Rick's joy faded as he figured you must have a date that night. Not that he would've asked you out. Not that he was ready. And you were Carl's teacher. But- -
"Dad, can we get pizza tonight?" Carl asked, snapping Rick back into the moment.
"Sure," Rick obliged happily.
"With extra pepperoni?" Carl asked.
"The best way!" You cheered.
"You wanna come with us?" Carl asked you.
"Uh, Carl," Rick began, "she's all dressed up, I think she's got a date tonight."
"Oh, no, I don't," you clarified.
"But you look so pretty," Carl said.
"Aw, thanks, kiddo. I just… felt like it, I guess," you explained and bit your lip.
"It suits you," Rick said quietly with a shy smile. "I don't mean to- -"
"You're not. It's nice to hear." Neither of you stopped smiling, until Carl cleared his throat.
"So, pizza?"
"You guys go on, I got this," you offered.
"No no, we're staying to clean up," Rick insisted.
"Only if you come with us for pizza!" Carl smiled hopefully.
"Carl!" Rick scolded lightly, but part of him loved the idea.
"Pleeeease?" Carl begged.
"I couldn't- -" you half-heartedly protested, internally torn.
"We'd love for you to join us. If it's not too…" Rick offered. "But we're cleaning up no matter what," he told Carl.
"Well, I am all dressed up,'" you reasoned, grinning, and hurriedly swept faster.
You followed them to Pizza Mia on Main Street and took over the big, half-moon booth in the back. The waitress knew Rick and Carl from their weekly visits, and she knew you from your frequent take-out orders.
"Extra pepperoni for my favorite customers?" She smiled.
"Yeah!" The three of you sang together.
The tiny place was empty except for the local singles getting their pick-up orders. Still, whoever did pass through raised their eyebrows at the sight. A couple of the men saluted Rick or gave him a thumbs up. He'd smirk, scoff, or shake his head each time. But he had to admit, the ego boost was even more satisfying than his favorite food and seeing his son have a blast.
The three of you stayed well past Carl's bedtime, shared a brownie sundae for dessert, and played Rick's favorite horrible songs on the jukebox.
When the waitress brought the check over, Rick was firm on paying, and walking you out to your car. Neither of you could stop smiling, or thanking the other for the best night in years. Carl even hugged you.
Later, long after Carl was asleep, Rick once again laid awake alone in his bed, frustrated. But that night, instead of questions, regrets, and heartbreak, he tossed and turned in a different kind of frustration. What did you look like under that sweater? What would you look like with your new lipstick smeared on your face? Why couldn't he stop remembering you wiping pizza sauce from your chin, then slowly licking your finger? What would you look like…
He refused to go there. You were Carl's teacher. Sure, it was allowed for teachers to date parents, but it wasn't wise. He still had to see you at pick-up time, two more teacher conferences, and elementary school graduation. And he wasn't ready for dating, and certainly not a relationship. He was just horny. But that was even more out of the question, and not just with his son's teacher. Old fashioned Rick Grimes had never done casual sex. He'd only been with Lori. He'd never cheated. He even felt guilty for masturbating during their marriage (which he resorted to constantly at the end).
But you. How innocent and modest you were. How he wanted to both keep you perfect and pretty, yet ruin you in primal ways.
Lonely lust won when the only way to relieve his painful hard-on was to imagine you naked in front of the jukebox, swaying, swinging your hips, your full breasts bouncing, your back arched, moaning to his song, bent over a table in front of him, your nails scratching the varnished wood, your ass locked to his pelvis as he blasted deep inside you… or, onto his sheets, alone in his plain bedroom, hoping his son hadn't heard his desperate grunts of relief.
How would he face you, he wondered, as sleep overtook him.
Everyone in town gossiped about the three of you having dinner together. On Valentine's night, no less. Good for him, some said. Good for her, others said. Too soon, thought others.
Of course it got back to Lori, as twisted and confused as news could get once it had passed through too many mouths. Some swore the two of you held hands, another heard he kissed you goodnight in front of Carl.
Lori brought it up when Rick dropped Carl off on Sunday night.
"Oh, no, it wasn't like that," Rick said dismissively.
"Then what was it like?" Lori asked, arms folded in her new driveway.
Something snapped in Rick. He and Lori hadn't argued once since she'd moved out, for the first time in years. They were both free, both right and neither wrong. That was the only thing Rick was grateful for in the whole situation. But having her question him, now that he was free, after what she'd done…
"It was what we all felt like doing for dinner, Lori. It was just pizza. And it's not your business."
"Well my son was there- -"
"And he had more fun than he's had all year!" Rick shouted. "So did I. I don't think I've had that much fun in years! Fucking years, Lori."
Lori's jaw dropped, her expression aghast and indignant. "Do not yell at me- -"
"Do not question what I do, or who I do it with! You, of all people!" He finally judged harshly.
Lori swallowed her tears, and Rick leaned against the closed trunk, composing himself.
"I'm sorry," he said as he stared at that cracked pavement.
"Me too," Lori gulped. "I always will be. I know I've said it a million times… I'm just worried about Carl. Because it could- -"
Rick stood up straight, calmer. "It really wasn't anything. She was alone, and you know Carl, always inviting everybody and their mother over. And I know she's his teacher, so it ain't right."
Lori let her arms drop and relaxed. "She won't be his teacher forever, you know."
"You trying to fix me up now? That it?" He shook his head.
"I think you deserve to be happy," Lori said.
"I was… I thought I was," he said and squeezed his sinuses.
"I was, too," Lori admitted. "In the beginning. But I think we were just too young. Way too young."
"Then we grew up," Rick thought out loud.
"And apart," Lori finished for him.
They both exhaled, spent, relieved. Sure, it was a fight. But it ended in understanding, and agreement. Neither of them ever thought they'd see the day…
"If you… I think she's the perfect person for you to have pizza with," Lori nudged with a small smile.
Rick laughed, then blushed. "I'm not… not yet. And if it didn't work out… Carl…"
"Well, you've got til the end of the school year to think about it," Lori shrugged reassuringly.
"I will. Anyway, I gotta get home."
"Iron your uniforms," Lori teased.
"You know it," Rick owned it with a big smile.
They both reached for each other and sighed into a final hug.
"Thanks," Rick said.
"Oh… pfft, no… " Lori waved him away happily.
As Rick drove away, it occurred to him that he and Lori were still growing up. But now that they were apart, they were growing stronger. He finally felt that, soon, he'd be strong enough for you.
Your skirts and dresses started to get shorter as the weather got warmer. On the first official day of spring, when Rick picked up Carl, you and some of the kids were wearing flower crowns you'd made.
Carl decided to play musical headwear. He
switched his crown with yours, then your crown with Rick's hat, and finally Rick's hat ended up on your head. You struck a silly stuck-em-up pose and asked cheerily, "How do I look?"
Rick couldn't answer out loud, but in his head he whimpered, "I surrender."
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The obvious chemistry between you two spurred more town gossip. Some decided you were already sleeping together. Others insisted you hadn't, but should. The rest ranged from believing the sheriff should sow his wild oats to tut-tutting that the ink on the divorce papers wasn't even dry yet. A few men (both single and not) took their shot with you, to see how serious it was between you and Rick. Your refusals, however polite, only fueled the fire.
On Mother's Day, Carl was with Lori, of course. Rick still gave her flowers, because she was not only the mother of his child, he still believed she was a great mother.
His own mother had passed away a few years before, so he visited her grave on the edge of town. The cemetery was busy that day, and fresh flowers adorned many headstones. Rick's father lived in a nursing home two towns over and, as an only child, Rick took care of the maintenance. He wiped the glossy front and back, brushed away debris from the top, adjusted the mementos, and laid down fresh pink roses, her favorite.
As he drove towards the exit he noticed you sitting alone on a bench, overlooking the pond. He parked and quietly walked over. You smiled when you saw him approaching and patted the seat next to you.
"Another thing we have in common," you announced.
"How long since yours passed?" Rick asked as he sat down.
"I was Carl's age."
"That's hard."
You shrugged. "20 years. I still miss her so much."
"Your dad?" Rick asked carefully.
"Still here."
"That's good. Mine too. You close with him?"
"I was, until what happened with my sister. I haven't spoken to her since, in almost 3 years, and he's just torn between us. Cheating never just hurts the one person," you mused.
"No, it sure doesn't," Rick agreed, thinking of Carl, Lori's parents, their friends, neighbors, everyone awkward and tip-toeing the neutral balance line.
"I hope this isn't out of line, but I've noticed that you and Lori seem to be getting along better. Carl has been more focused lately, too."
"I think a lot of that is thanks to you," Rick smiled. "You're the best teacher he's ever had."
He watched your face flush and your chest fill with pride. "He's a great kid. I wish I could be his teacher every year."
"I don't," Rick blurted out. Your expression plummeted in confusion, and he quickly gestured to recover. "No, I don't… that came out wrong, I think I- -"
You grinned amused and curious at his blabbering. You reached over and placed your hand over his to reassure him.
"I'm not good at this," he blushed, for the 100th time in your presence.
"I'm a bit rusty too."
His eyes connected with yours, and every last bit of hesitation and pretense crumbled at your feet. Rick lifted his other hand to your cheek and leaned closer. You met him halfway, until his lips softly brushed against yours. He pressed his palm closer to your skin and your lips together tighter, need and relief driving him forward into you. Your kiss was the light at the end of the tunnel of the most painful year of his life, and he ran into it at full speed, until you stopped him.
"Not yet," you whispered but squeezed his hand and pressed your forehead to his.
He inhaled and swallowed, knowing you were right, but not willing to let you go yet.
"I know," he agreed.
"But… as soon as the school year is over…" you grinned.
"Yes, yes. When's that again? Tomorrow?" He joked.
You chuckled. "About 5 weeks."
Rick tried to stand up. "Nah, I'm the law here, and I say school ended Friday."
You both laughed, and you leaned into him. He rubbed your shoulder and looked around.
"We usually bust up teenagers doing this here," he said.
"Well, we're adults, we can do what we want," you joked and sat up.
He couldn't stop smiling at you and brushed some hair away from your face.
"I can't wait," he said.
"Me either."
Carl was counting the days as well. Lori and Rick promised him a 10-speed bike on the last day, if his grades were good (which they always were). Every time Rick picked him up from school he'd announce, "Four more weeks!" "Three more weeks!" "8 more days!"
Rick busied himself with putting the bike together and cleaning out the house. After Lori moved out, he couldn't bear to replace the things she'd taken or rearrange what was left. Empty spaces and oddly placed picture frames littered surfaces.
He realized he'd been living alone with the belongings of a married couple that didn't exist anymore. Sheets with purple flowers, soap and coffee brands that he didn't even like but kept buying out of habit, fancy dishes received as gifts that collected dust in the cupboard.
He bought new white sheets, tried every coffee brand on the store shelf, sold the China set, and brought boxes of stuff from the basement and closets to Goodwill. He also put up new pictures - some new ones of Carl or his old family pictures, and a couple of scenic shots from a local photographer. The house started to feel like his own once he cleaned out the ghosts and filled it with hope.
Elementary school graduation arrived quickly. Carl had slept over the night before and Rick took a few vacation days off. He knew Carl would want to learn to ride the new bike immediately. He also wanted to see you.
He planned to ask you to dinner for the night after graduation, at a bistro in the next town, away from the oggles and whispers of townies.
You couldn't spare a moment during the big day. There were diplomas and awards to hand out, hands to shake, pictures to take, wayward students to wrangle, parents to appease, and other teachers working together to pull the whole thing off. The vice principal of the middle school spoke to the kids about what they could look forward to next year - new sports, class varieties, clubs to join, and a newly redone cafeteria. None of the kids cared - they were free for the summer!
All the parents organized a potluck BBQ at the park. You were there… and so was Shane. It was the first time he and Rick had to be at a function or holiday together. Every other time, the two men traded off, or saw each other in passing. This time, they sat at the same picnic table, ate the pulled pork and potato salad, and even chatted casually about the arrogant new recruits at work.
You had never treated Lori and Shane differently than any other parent or step parent. It was just another way you naturally eased Rick's life, even from the edges.
At one point, the two men ended up alone together on each side of the table. Rick was too busy watching you laugh with another teacher while handing out brownies and cupcakes. Shane drained his beer can and broke the ice.
"Thanks for building the bike. You know I'm terrible at it."
Rick grinned politely. "It only took me two tries."
Shane relaxed and continued. "Lori says… you and Y/N… maybe."
"Yeah, I think so," Rick admitted, pleased and proud.
Shane smiled and nodded. "That's good, good. Real good."
Rick smiled back and said before taking a sip of beer, "Stay away from this one, alright."
Shane dropped his gaze, shamed and disappointed, bordering on angry, until Rick laughed, "Too soon?"
Shane laughed with him, until the two men couldn't stop.
Lord, how everyone talked that night.
Rick and Shane had their first conversation in over a year. Rick kept it brief, to make sure it ended on a high note, then walked over to your dessert station.
"Chocolate or vanilla?" You asked cheerfully.
"Dinner," he said confidently.
You chuckled. "Yes!"
"Marcel's, tomorrow night?" Rick asked.
You waited until two students walked away and countered, "Your house."
Rick's firmly planted, hands-on-hips stance faltered at the implications. Your eyes never left his, insistent.
He nodded and ducked his head to hide his flushed cheeks. "Uhh, yeah," he grinned.
"Pizza Mia? Extra pepperoni?" You requested cutely.
He reconsidered, doubting his assumptions now, wondering if you really just wanted pizza and privacy.
"Anything you want," he agreed, and accepted a chocolate cupcake.
The next night, as he waited for you, he twitched, paced, rearranged, and triple-checked everything. The pizza would be delivered at 6:30, and he had the drink you'd ordered Valentine's night, cranberry juice and lots of ice.
He dressed simply in jeans and a casual sage green button-down, tucked in, top two buttons open, with his grandfather's silver watch on his wrist.
You'd agreed on 6pm. He was ready at 5, and sat waiting on the couch, one leg rapidly bouncing almost as fast as his thoughts.
He hadn't been on a first date since he was 17, when he met Lori in senior year. They stayed together through college, got married immediately after graduation, and had Carl a year later. He never thought there would be another first date.
He'd also never slept with anyone else. Lori was his one and only, and, he thought, his forever. Not that he presumed you'd have sex with him that night, but the possibility crossed his mind.
He was just a boy when he fell in love and started a family. Now he was a man starting over again. He just hoped he was good enough for an adult relationship.
He jumped when the doorbell rang at 5:30. Whoever it was, on the cusp of your arrival, could go the fuck away, toot sweet. But only you stood at his door, looking nervous but lovely through the glass. Hair down fully, cascading around your shoulders, covered in a thin lavender sweater over a white summer dress, beige leather purse strap on one side. He pulled the door handle, then remembered it was locked, and fumbled to unlock it. You both laughed at the awkwardness, knowing both of your hearts were pounding out of your chests in anticipation, only for a Goddamned inanimate object to ruin whatever exterior cool he had managed.
You twisted your hands together as he opened the door and paused before stepping in, his sweeping arm welcoming you.
"New door?" You teased as your heels clicked on the hardwood floor in the hallway.
Rick laughed. "Uhh, old, actually. It sticks, it's broken, need a new lock. I'm just gonna throw the whole thing out and start again," he joked.
"Good idea," you agreed. "Fresh start."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders.
"Is it ok that I'm early?" You asked.
"Yeah, yeah, of course," he reassured you. "You look… beautiful."
He was right. You'd bloomed throughout the year, and not just because of what you wore in clothes or makeup or how you let your hair fly. Your smiles reached your eyes. You laughed louder and freer, untamed instead of timid. You inspired him.
"Thank you," you sighed happily, appreciative of the sincere compliment. You turned to look at his sheriff's hat right next to you, resting on the hook near the doorway into the bright living room. You lifted it, then placed it on your own head with one hand, coyly batting your eyelashes at him from beneath the brim.
"Does it suit me?"
You couldn't maintain the facade, your voice breaking into desperate vulnerability at the end, tired of playing it cool.
You pushed the hat to the floor, dropped your bag, and let Rick catch you as you both collided together. He held your face to capture your lips and you clung to the sides of his shirt. You hungrily opened up to each other as you tripped over each other's feet on your way over to the sofa. Rick sat in the middle and pulled you onto his lap to straddle him. You gasped against his mouth when his already prominent, solid bulge pressed against your center. You pulled back to look at him and tucked your hair behind your ear.
"Is this too soon?" You asked nervously.
He smiled and laughed. "Not soon enough."
You paced yourself and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and he sat forward to pull it off his arms. He pressed his hands flat against your back and pulled you closer, never breaking eye contact. His gaze overpowered you but you couldn't look away. His blazing blue eyes filled with revelation that he couldn't contain anymore.
"It's been so long," he exhaled, as if coming up for air after years underwater. "Even before she left… I can't remember the last time anyone's touched me. Held me close. Just like this."
"I've wanted to do this all year," you admitted.
You rubbed his smooth, bare shoulders and he buried his face in your neck, inhaling your affection. He began tenderly trailing kisses up towards your face, then ravenously recaptured your lips. He had to stop, gasping for air, when you grinded down on his lap. You pushed him back into the cushions and watched his Adam's apple bob and his chest heave. You pulled your open sweater off your arms and reached back to unzip your dress. He rubbed his hands up your outer thighs, over your hips, and up your bare back to help you pull the white eyelet cotton over your head. The firm peaks of your full breasts strained through your white lace bra cups. Rick stared with lust-blown pupils, a watering mouth, a thirst that only your body could quench after months in the desert.
"I want to know you," he said, his voice heavy with tender emotion. "I want to be with you."
"I want to make you happy, Rick."
"You already have. Just knowing you. Seeing you smile every week. Knowing how good you've been to my son, and to me. Giving me something to look forward to again."
You rubbed his arms to push them down as your smile turned seductive.
"Just you wait," you whispered as you slid back off his lap and kneeled before him.
He gulped in disbelief. "You don't have- -"
"I want to," you insisted. "He broke me. But I feel like being around you helped put me back together. I've wanted you so badly for so long. Let me show you."
He nodded and braced himself internally as you undid his double belt loops. It had been an even longer time since Rick had experienced this as well. His painfully hard cock erupted from the lowered zipper, his cotton boxers struggling to contain it. You lowered your face to it and kissed it through the hot fabric. Rick moaned at the affection and stimulating start and patted your hair. You parted the opening and freed him, then began by licking all the way up the underside.
"Ah, oh God, oh… God," Rick gasped. The sight of your tongue running along the length brought tears to his eyes. When your lips enveloped the head and he watched his cock slowly disappear into your mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut and nearly wept. Your relentless tongue worked magic he couldn't even fathom existed. The tighter his fingers gripped your scalp, the faster you swirled. Rick's whole body spasmed through the pleasure until he felt himself getting too close and begged you to stop, but it was too late. He exploded into your mouth, and you had him crying out in pain as you suctioned and swallowed every drop.
Once his high ebbed he was afraid to open his eyes in shame, but when he did, you were rubbing his thighs and smiling.
"M'sorry," he huffed. You shook your head and tugged his jeans and boxers down.
"Don't be sorry. That's what I wanted," you said seductively.
You pushed your panties over your hips and down to your feet as you stood up, then sat sideways on Rick's lap.
He smiled gratefully and cradled your cheek.
"Thank you."
He kissed you deeply, barely tasting himself but not caring. He unclasped your bra, then watched as he pulled the front down, feeling his blood stirring again already as the lace slid off your stiffened buds. He cupped your breast and circled your nipple with his thumb. You closed your eyes, furrowed your brow, and moaned quietly as your arousal soaked his leg. You threw your head back when Rick took your other nipple in his mouth and let his hand roam down to your mound. You opened your legs and lifted one leg over his lap, then leaned back against him. He kissed and licked up to your neck and beneath your ear while sliding his fingers into your slickness.
"I'll return the favor," he whispered, then licked your earlobe.
"No," you cried, "Rub me. Please," You begged.
He held your left breast with his left hand and spread your lubrication over your clit with his right. He looked down to watch when he slid his fingers all the way into your opening and worked his thumb in circles around your engorged, sensitive nub. When he curled his fingers deep into the right spot, you wailed as your body contracted, then imploded. Your head fell towards him, spent, whimpering as you recovered. His wet fingers lifted your chin so he could tenderly kiss you. As you relaxed you felt his new erection beneath your upper thigh.
"Take me to bed," you said sweetly.
Rick smiled but hesitated. "I don't have any protection. Didn't think I'd need it this soon."
"You don't need it," you said, to his relief. "I knew we were going to end up like this sooner or later, and I wanted to be ready."
"Then hurry in there," Rick growled playfully as he pushed you up but didn't let you go.
"Lead me," you said.
He held your hips and walked you backwards across the hallway into his bedroom, then lowered you back onto the white quilt. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He reached between you and guided his tip to your entrance, gasping as your warmth welcomed his tip. He groaned harder the further into you he pushed, then stilled once he was fully buried. You whined as he dragged himself back out, then dug your nails into his flesh as he advanced again. You held each other close, not even a sliver of space between your bodies as he set a gentle rhythm. You licked his lips, setting off a deep kiss of dancing tongues, spurring your bodies faster, completely in sync. Your quiet moans grew higher and desperate when Rick bent his knees and began rolling his hips against you, driving his cock into a new spot, at a new angle, sending pleasure rippling through you. He brought an arm up to cradle your head, bewildered at the reality of your nakedness in body and heart, vowing to himself right then and there that he'd spend his life revering you.
His captivating eye contact pierced your soul, the dominating tenderness of a decent man overtaking you. You rubbed your hands over his shoulders, down his chest, and gripped his thrusting hips, reminding you both of your earthly connection and impending conclusion.
Rick leaned upright, pressed your inner thighs apart, and watched your bodies collide, agape and awestruck at the profane sight, sending him into a tailspin. The new slant had him driving directly into a devastating spot that you didn't even know existed in your own body, at an unrelenting speed. You lost time when you shattered around him, a continuous moan cathartically expelled before you fully collapsed beneath him.
As soon as Rick felt you clamp down around him, he lost all control, a man possessed, unaware of his fingers digging into your skin or how far back his head was bent as he shook the bed and howled at the ceiling as he burst inside of you.
He slumped down and bent forward, hovering over you with his eyes squeezed shut as his thoughts and awareness slowly returned. He shook himself and looked up to find you watching him with a tired smile. He took a deep breath and pulled you up, sat you on his lap, and wrapped his arms around you. He rubbed his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent, and rubbed the sweaty skin of your back. You locked your ankles behind his back, kissed the freckles on his shoulders, and finger-combed his short, dark curls. Calm settled over the two of you and comfort sealed your bond.
Eventually his legs needed a break from your weight and you both crawled up to his pillows, but stuck close together. He leaned on one side but hovered over you, brushing your temple with his fingertips, leaving light kisses on your smiling lips, unable to believe you were there, or that he felt joy again in life.
"What just happened?" He burst out laughing, unable to contain his mirth.
"I threw myself at you," you smiled confidently.
"And I caught you," Rick beamed.
"Yes you did, Sheriff. And you… made me feel something - twice - that used to barely happen once. And never without, you know, help."
"Really now?" Rick raised one eyebrow, his pride swelling now.
"Yes, really," you confirmed truthfully and played absent-mindedly with his chest hairs. "It used to take him a long time and a lot of work to get me there. Turns out, it wasn't my fault!" You declared triumphantly.
"Nope, sure wasn't!"
"Well, he's the only person I've ever been with, so I didn't have anything to go on."
Rick felt a familiar pang at your similarities.
"Did you… feel like all of it was your fault?" He asked hesitantly.
You nodded. "Yeah. But it wasn't. I know that now. It can't be just one person's fault when there are two people. I'm not perfect, but I didn't deserve that."
"No, you didn't."
"You didn't either, you know," you gently reminded him.
He lowered his gaze but nodded. "I always felt like… like I couldn't do anything right. I'm not perfect either, and I see plenty of things I coulda done differently. But she once told me she felt the same way, about herself, with me. I think, truth is, we just couldn't do it right together."
"Will you try again with me?" You asked sweetly.
He looked back up at you, comforted yet excited. "If you'll have me?"
Before you could seal it was a kiss, the doorbell rang.
"Oh, sh- - the pizza," Rick remembered, and rolled over to find his clothes. You enjoyed watching him dress half-hazardly, shirt not even buttoned, then run for the door. Thankfully he'd paid over the phone so he could just take the box and pray the teenage delivery boy didn't recognize him and gossip to his boss.
He set the box on the kitchen table and went back into the bedroom to find you. At some point you'd snuck out to the hallway and snagged his Sheriff's hat. You stood totally naked but wearing the hat, your back turned to him as you admired yourself in the mirror above his dresser. You smiled at him in the mirror.
"You never told me how I look in this?" You said coyly.
Rick had never dropped his pants so fast. He pulled you back to the bed where he held your hips as you straddled him.
"Keep it on," he said as you sank down onto him.
Eventually he reheated the pizza and the two of you ate at the table, in just enough clothing to be civilized. You shared stories of your lives in the past, and what you both wanted for the future - a relationship in which you didn't doubt yourself, with a partner you could trust.
You stayed the night, at his invitation.
By the time school started again you'd moved in, also at his invitation.
When the year finished, you and Rick were married, at the courthouse, with only Carl in attendance. No other invitations necessary.
Every Sunday night, you made lesson plans while Rick ironed his uniforms. Every morning after he grabbed his hat off the hook, he hoped he'd come home to find you wearing only the duplicate hat you'd bought online. But as an old-fashioned man with simple needs, just having you in his house and his life was more than enough.
Thank you for reading! And I've got even more Rick in the works, so stick around.
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