Exit Wound
Story Notes: Wasn't that just fun?
Enjoy!
Songs For this Chapter: Acquainted - The Weeknd
~I'll get you touchin' on your body
I know I'd rather be complacent
But girl I'm so glad we're acquainted.~
~.~
"You alright there, Chonne?" Rick asked, he was in the kitchen, stirring the pasta, glancing so often at the ground beef as it cooked. She had been acting strange since they stumbled into Jeese and Dianna. He was trying to shove her the other way, but she had kept walking forward in the view of Dianna. At one point while he was married, she had hit on him. He turned her down, waving his gold wedding band in her face and turned his back on her. Through the grapevine, he heard she was pregnant again and couldn't stop the small satisfied smirk across his face when she confirmed that fact. Maybe he had been too nice to her.
Michonne hadn't spoken to him since Jesse left. She spoke with Dianna, but the conversation was light. Dianna spoke mostly while Rick added what he had to say, but Michonne stayed quiet. He got that he was to friendly, but that couldn't mean he was flirting with her.
"Michonne!" He said her name just a bit louder, leaning over the kitchen bar top to look at her. She was sitting on his couch, her legs propped up under her bottom. The TV was on. The familiar Netflix logo was on his screen. He hadn't used his in awhile. He told her when they got back that if she saw something on there. It wasn't his doing. He gave Carl access to it too.
Michonne shook her head, pulling herself up from the couch to turn around and look at Rick.
"I'm sorry. I...thought I saw someone I knew back there at the store." She quieted, glancing behind her at the screen. She must have been waiting for the app to load up because the one account, which was Carl's was there. "Do you mind if I make you an account, Rick?"
Rick shrugged, excusing himself for a second to stir the meat. He didn't want just side cooked. "What for? I don't use the thing."
Michonne laughed.
His cheeks turned a bright red at how his heart thumped wildly in his chest at just her laugh. Little did she know what her smile did to him.
"You pay for something you don't use? You're going to be on vacation and you won't even do the American way?"
"What can I say? I don't find sitting on my ass all day attractive."
He stirred the meat one last time, glancing out of the corner of his eye on the pasta. A few more minutes and the food would be ready. He tapped the fork against the pot, knocking the leftover meat into it, pulling the rag off his shoulders to throw it on the counter. He brought his hands together in a loud clap, turning on his heel. He was stopped in his tracks once he noticed Michonne was standing there, leaning against the wall, her hip popped out.
"What?" He eyed her while she looked at him. One of her eyebrows was arched and she was just...staring at him.
"You are to good to be true, you know that?" She pushed herself off the wall, reaching out for him. He rose up his own arms, stepping into her embrace, wrapping his arms around her. Her head was leaned back to look at him. Her hands rested on his lower back as his rested on her ass. He squeezed her cheeks, biting his bottom lip. She smiled.
"How's that?" The more he hung around her. The more he noticed her mood swings. They weren't...scary. It was like she was having a constant battle in her head and she was fighting it all on her own. He wanted to pry, but each time it came across his mind. He fought himself.
"You're patient with me. This feels real and..." She closed her mouth shut, shaking her head. He dipped his head, bringing it down to plant a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes closed for a second.
"I want to get to know you Michonne. I'm not going anywhere so if you think those women at the supermarket..." He trailed off, but she kissed him on his lips, silencing him.
"I know who you want, Rick." She whispered against his lips, parting hers to let out a quiet sigh.
"Who's that?" He whispered back, moving his lips along hers. His jeans tightened at how soft they felt.
"Me and I want you too." She slid her tongue into his mouth, parting his lips to gain entry. He welcomed it, his own tongue wiggling against hers.
Her head tilted to the side, curling her tongue around his to take dominance. He turned them around, slamming her back into the pantry door. Michonne's leg lifted up, wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, shifting her hips to grind her body into him. One of his hands fell from her ass to slap at the door, holding them both steady. He knew without it, they would fall. The smell of the food was his anchor.
But having her this close to him. He'd lose that battle.
"Chonne." He broke the kiss. His breath heavy as he eyed her through half open slits.
"How long do we have before the food is ready?" She asked him, leaning in, kissing at his cheek.
He groaned, closing his eyes to tilt his head back. The other hand on her ass squeezed. His hips rotated. The friction. He'd probably cream his pants of the friction.
"It will be ready soon." He opened his eyes again, deciding it was best now to pull away and suffer. He was sure if they started it right now -though it was what he wanted if he had to be honest - they would never stop.
"Good. I have enough time for this then."
Her leg unhooked from around his waist. Her arms unwrapped from his body. A hand placed on his chest, held him still. "Let me, Rick. I'll be gentle...this time." She wiggled out of his hold, dropping to her knees before him. He gulped, glancing down at her. Her hands grabbed for his belt buckle, pulling it free. Next she went for his buttons, tugging on it.
"Wait." He shook his head, grabbing for her.
She continued, looking up at him.
"You don't have to do this."
"I want too." She replied, his zipper slowly sliding down.
~.~
Michonne's heart thundered in her chest as his jeans parted. She was really going to do this, please Rick. She thought about it on numerous occasions to pleasure him this way, but her thoughts took her to places she didn't want to linger and it ruined her mood, but she was going to do this. Andrea's phone call, asking her to go to Atlanta with her. She didn't give her answer. She just hung up the phone. Sure, she would have gone to support Andrea, but she didn't want to let Andre go -at the time-, but if she wanted to be fully Rick's. She would have too.
Rick was tense, standing above her. Both his hands were on the door to hold himself as she grabbed for his jeans to tug them down, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. She slowly glanced up at him, taking a deep breath. He was already looking down at her. His stare was just as hard as his body. The evidence was the tent.
"Chonne," he purred her name. In his eyes, it was like he was begging her not too.
She wanted to open her mouth and say something. Anything to calm him, but her heart was thundering so loud. One thing she loved about giving head was the power exchange. She was in control of the situation. She could make his knees buckle and his eyes roll back if she wanted to be that mean.
She grabbed for his boxer briefs, tugging the hem down to free him. He sprung forth; erect, strong, and ready.
She leaned forward, adjusting herself, holding herself on her knees. She was eye level with his shaft. She inhaled and then exhaled. Her hand wrapped around his flesh to hold it steady. She brought her head closer to it, her eyes closed, her lips parted. Her tongue licked at his slit.
He jumped above her, but did not stop her.
"Fuck." He breathed.
She wrapped her mouth around his tip. A soft moan falls from her lips -though muffled- at his taste. She's smelled him before, rubbing her nose against his chest to have some part of him close, but this was deeper. She was taking him.
A hand fell from the door to her head. His fingers clenched, but it stayed steady.
She moved her mouth up, taking him further in. Her tongue wiggled. She had this undying need to taste him everywhere. Her eyes popped open. She wanted to watch his length disappear into her mouth. She moaned again. She felt him at the back of her throat. She tightened her grip, slowly pumping what wasn't left in her mouth.
His hips moved opposite direction of her hand.
"Why? So you can leave me? You don't give a fuck about us. You're moving on with this new man. This Rick."
Her eyes widen. Where did that come from? She hadn't thought about him in...awhile. She was trying to focus on Rick, her writing, anything else but him. But the dream. Her conscious was playing tricks on her, attacking her weak spots to expose them. She honestly thought she was passed it.
She moved her mouth back. Her body felt hot, the familiar burning sensation started at her groin. She could feel it creep up to the pits in her belly. She mentally shook her head, ignoring Mike dream's words. He was dead.
She titled her head to the side, using the collected spit on his length to lube up her pumping palm.
"Fuck Chonne..." He mumbled; his head fell back, his eyes half closed. A sigh fell from his parting lips.
She pulled her mouth completely off of him, licking her lips. "Lean against the sink counter. I'm not done."
He does. Her hand stills as he walks backward. His hand fell off the door to grab for the sink counter. He's already gripping it so hard his knuckles are turning red.
A small smirk on her lips as she eyes him. "I lied about the gentle part." She opened her mouth, taking him in. She inhaled deeply as she did, calming down her heart. When was the last time she gave head especially like this? Her grabbed for his naked hip as did the other. She exhaled through her nose. Each second an inch of him went deeper into her mouth.
She felt the tip of him at the back of her throat again. She inhaled. He went deeper. She exhaled. He stopped.
His body was tense with emotion. She was teasing him.
"Why? So you can leave me? You don't give a fuck about us. You're moving on with this new man. This Rick."
She shook her head, pulling him completely out of her mouth again.
"Yes." She said.
And then she leaned forward taking him into her mouth again. His tip brushed against her throat. She growled, relaxing herself and then he went deeper.
~.~
Rick near shot off the counter as she took him. Her tongue was so good and her mouth felt so hot. He toes curled in his shoes. His grip tightened on her hair, he tugged, trying to get as much as he could between his fingers. She hadn't moved. She was just...there.
He was sure he heard a noise, heard her say something, but her mouth was touching him and his eyes were rolling back and...
The smell of meat clouded his nostrils for a second. It brought him back to where he was. The kitchen and he was only smelling meat because he was cooking or had been cooking. Though if he didn't turn it off. He'd burn their dinner.
But how could he move from this very spot?
She hummed, a low sound. He felt it around his cock. He twitched, his eyes shooting open. Pleasure coursed through his body. His hold on the counter tightened. He had a feeling if he had the strength. He'd break it off.
"Michonne..." He finally got out. The meat scent was getting stronger now. He'd hate for it to burn. "At least turn the stove off." He choked out, his head hanging low as she slowly pulled back, wrapping her hand around his member to jerk it as her mouth worked vigorously around him.
"The meat." He said once again. "It'll burn...Fuck."
He grabbed her hair tighter, holding her steady. His hips lifted off the counter and up, thrusting himself into her mouth. Her mouth was so hot, so wet.
Her nails dug into his waist, scratching at his skin. It only fueled his passion.
He thrust into her mouth a few times, the sensation was unbearable.
"Fuck...that's it." He moaned, his hand fell off the counter. He pulled her off of him. He let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Michonne stared up at him confused.
"The stove. Turn it off." He nodded his head over at it, pulling himself from the counter.
She rose to her feet, licking at her lips as she leaned over the stove to turn off the burners.
His head cocked to the side. His eyes locked on her backside and how good she looked in her jeans.
He walked forward, his jeans were wrapped around his legs, but he managed, slapping one hand to the counter, stepping in behind her. His erection poking at her back.
"Rick..." She said his name. His arm wrapped around her chest, pulling her flat against his chest. She leaned into him, tilting her head to the side.
His head dipped. His lips met her shoulder, kissing her softly there. "Can I touch you or is it just a...me thing?"
A small laugh fell from her lips. It warmed his heart.
"You can touch me, Rick." She replied, reaching behind herself to grab for his erection, wrapping her hand around him. Stroking him slowly.
He groaned, biting down on his bottom lip. The familiar sensation starting up again.
He slid his hand downward, closing his eyes to the feel of her. He cup both her breasts, lifting his hand up from the counter. She arched her back, her thumb pressed into his slit, but she did not stop. His eyes rolled back.
He needed to focus.
He cupped her breast still, the other made its way on to touch her jeans. He popped the button, pulling her zipper down. He wasted no time in sliding his digits underneath her panties, groaning as he felt her hairless mound. She was shaved to perfection. He stretched his middle finger, tapping her heat. She bucked against in response.
"Fuck Rick..." Her hand stopped touching him. He laughed for a moment, distracting her as he pushed his hand further down, using his index and middle finger to caress her wet folds.
She started up again, but it wasn't as fast.
"You're so fucking wet." Which was true. The familiar sound of flesh meeting flesh flooded his ears, woken his senses. He probed her entrance, burying himself knuckle deep inside of her. His lips met her shoulder, kissing her hungrily there, wishing they were her lips.
They must have been on the same page. She moved her shoulder, turned her head as far as she could and their lips met.
Her tongue thrusted into his mouth without warning. His own met hers just as quick. They dueled for dominance. Her hand tightened around him, pumping in. He moved in hips to meet her. He was wet from her going down on him. It only made it easier for him.
He curled his fingers, working his fingers to enter her over and over.
He could feel the itch at his lower back. He was close to completion.
"Faster, baby." She cooed. Her lips wrapped around his tongue, sucking. His thumb clamped onto her clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. He added another finger, wishing he was inside of her instead. He'd have to make due.
His legs locked. Her mouth let go of his tongue. He popped it back into his mouth, resting his forehead on hers. A deep groan erupted from his throat. A soft moan of his name fell from Michonne's.
Her walls clenched his fingers. Her hips buck as if to ride them. He stopped. His own ending was approaching.
A wave of satisfaction fell over him as he came. She drenched his fingers.
God, he wished he was inside of her, but when he pulled back to look at her.
And it was only because he wanted too.
She had a goofy grin on her face and just this was enough.
He'd take that.
~.~
Daryl cleared his throat as he removed his legs from his desk. His hands were still laced together in his lap. He had just arrived moments ago. After Rick and Michonne left, there was an awkward silence between Sasha and him. He tried to open his mouth to explain, but he was never good at things like this. He just knew it'd work itself out.
They hadn't been dating very long. He had stumbled into her after leaving Rick's apartment one early morning. She had just came back from her shift at the hospital. He was half tipsy and she had her earphones turned up loud. When his head bumped into hers. He didn't think that he'd be dating her. She'd be his girlfriend. Then, he was upset. There was some yelling.
Her earphones had fell from her ears and she just stared at him. She had a long night and wasn't having it. Even with that evil eye stare of hers they exchanged numbers, hung out, and started dating. Looking back on it. He laughed. She poked at him a couple of times. Even threw in the comment, he would have had a piece of her ass by now if he wasn't so uptight.
He cleared his throat again, shaking himself from the memory. He glanced up. Shane was looking at him, his brow arched. Bob was standing next to Shane. His arms crossed.
"What?" He said, straightening himself in his chair, giving them a look of his own.
"Nothing, Daryl. We were talking about the Anderson case. You seemed to have dozed off there."
Daryl raised his hand, waving it away. He did, though. They only had two theories; Ron did it or Jessie did it.
"What was your point, Bob?"
Bob frowned, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. "Jessie could have every reason to kill her own husband. He went downstairs for something. His guards down. She sneaks up behind him and stabs him. I don't see Ron having the..."
Shane made a noise of disapproval, rolling his eyes. "No! That's not right. It was Ron, that boy. He was protecting his momma. I'd have done the same thing if I gave an ounce 'bout my parents."
Daryl shook his head, letting out a sigh. "Guys! We need to figure something out. Let's look at this case with new eyes. My..." He paused. He glanced down, hiding his eyes, but his voice was strong. "...girlfriend can look at the pictures. She's good with identifying wounds." He knew that for a fact.
Bob made a sound. Daryl looked at him. Bob's brow was lifted.
"Girlfriend? That's good man."
Shane rolled his eyes again. "Look, whatever. If we need new eyes on this. That's fine. I have other things to do and I'd like to get this wrapped before Rick comes back. Got me?" He snatched a pile of folders off his desk, holding them underneath his arm as he walked away mumbling something under his breath.
Bob turned, adjusting his arms. There was a slight shake to his head.
"What's his problem?"
"Let me call my girlfriend." He said, stretching out one leg to reach into his pocket for his cellphone. He unlocked the screen, his eyes widen slightly. He had three messages and two missed calls. The missed calls were from Sasha. The text messages were from her brother. He checked his first. Her brother was still checking into Shane's personal issue.
Daryl wished he should have fought harder though. Shane spoke out of his ass a lot, but every time he asked him about Dale. Daryl knew Shane was looking for anything to nail this guy so he could put a bullet in his brain.
"Well fuck me."
"What? Girlfriend can't do it?" Bob lightly joked, turning around to head for his own desk. He then called out to Daryl. "Let me know if anything changes. I need to catch up on my paper work."
Daryl nodded his head, ignoring him. His eyes couldn't leave the screen. Tyreese was explaining why Dale didn't have a last known address. The murderous bastard had bought a RV. He groaned, replying back to Tyreese to send him any information he had on it.
He exited out of his messaging screen to call back Sasha. Now that he was alone, he could talk to her about whatever. The longer he took with answers for Shane. The better he could figure out how to bring this to Rick.
"Fuck me, twice."
~.~
"It was constructed for her execution. Betrayed the rules."
"What's this about?" Rick asked. Michonne was half seated in his lap. She was still eating. He had long finished his spaghetti. His plate was on the table in front of him. He didn't have it in him to get up especially with Michonne sitting so comfortably on him.
"It's about a psychopath who teaches people a lesson." She mumbled, rolling up her pasta to bring it to her mouth. Rick leaned into the couch, his eyes focused on the movie. It was gruesome for his taste. The Angel Trap, Michonne had answered for him telling him to shush as her ribcage was ripped violently opened, her insides spread open for all to see.
"A bedridden cancer patient? He's brains, not brawn."
Rick snapped his head back to the movie as Michonne finished off the rest of her plate. She leaned to the side, placing her plate on top of his, bringing her feet closer as she rested back into his lap.
"Are you cold?" He didn't want this to be a bad first date.
"I'm fine. Wrap your manly arms around me." So he did, hugging her close to him.
"Why did you pick this movie?" He asked seconds later. He knew there was something off about this Hoffman guy. He was too...nonchalant. If one of his men were in that predicament. He'd lose his cool. He would have been yelling.
"I've seen all the Saw movies. This one I've seen once. Now I'm starting to see why." She replied, lifting up her hips to adjust herself in his lap. Rick shifted, wanting her to have room.
"We're good. It's just you're poking me and I don't want to make it worse."
He could feel his cheeks heat up. He grabbed for her hips, moving her off of him, throwing his weight to the side, stretching out on the couch. Michonne moved a hand underneath her head as she stretched out too. Her legs now tangled with his.
"Still feel me?" He didn't mean it how it came out. He told himself to speak up. This movie was not his taste, but he didn't want Michonne to shush him again.
"I...do." She replied, leaning her head back to look up at him. "I never asked you, how was your first blowjob?"
Rick cleared his throat, closing his eyes for a second, trying to understand the question. "It was really good." He wasn't lying. He didn't finish in her mouth, but the fact she touched him was enough. He opened his eyes, his next words slipped from his mouth before he could catch himself. "Are you still wet?"
"Yes I am." There was a moments pause. Rick's eyes widen as he realized what he said. That was supposed to be a thought, but she rolled over before he could apologize. Her hand was still underneath her cheek. Her other arm was thrown over his middle. "I'd ask the question if you're still hard, but..." Her tongue traced her lips, her hand slid down his hip to cup his crotch. He tensed up, his teeth met his bottom lip.
"You always make me hard if that makes sense, Michonne." He stated the truth. He always felt like a teenager with the constant hard ons.
She shrugged, leaning forward placing her lips gently against his. "This is a good day. I like relaxing at home and my...man cooked for me." He sensed the hesitation as the word came out, but he looked at her. Now he wanted to ask the question Carl had not to long ago asked him.
"Are we together?" They were mature adults. There was no confusion here. There shouldn't have been, right?
"Yes. I would like to be with you." She said, only to quickly add. "I want to get some things off my chest first before I can get physical with you."
He lightly shook his head, unsure to what she meant. There was screaming on the TV, but he dare didn't look up. He didn't want to break this. "I'm not in this for that, Michonne. I can wait three months without touching you. I just like being around you, hearing your voice."
He was sure if she could blush, she would be right now. "I'm a physical person, Rick. I love sex and its important to me to reach that level with you, but I'm scared."
He heard more screaming. He shook his head, looking up. A woman was sitting in a chair, hair was being pulled from her scalp. A man was running frantically around her. He was collecting...numbers.
"That's it." He mumbled, patting around him for the remote. Once he found it, he turned it down to mute. He tossed his remote back where he found it, moving his hand underneath his cheek to hold himself up. His eyes on her, focused.
"Why are you scared? Are you scared of me?"
She immediately shook her head. "No. It's not you. It's me." She took a deep breath, swallowing hard. His hand came around to rest on her lower back, pulling her closer to him. His voice dropped to a mere whisper.
"I want to get to know you. I want to be here with you. This is my choice, Michonne. For peepsake, I'm a cop. I've seen it all. You can't surprise me."
A small smile formed on her lips, but it instantly fell. "Remember when I told you about Mike, the man who I was with?"
He nodded, thinking back on their earlier conversations. His brain went on alert. Had he missed something important? He went through all the clues. Michonne was quiet, she was probably collecting her thoughts. It gave him enough time to reflect. He knew Mike cheated on her and she took him back. He had fell into drugs and later took his own life. But that still didn't make sense, she didn't sound really hurt over his death. He knew he was missing something. There was this him.
"I want you to meet him. I want you to meet Andre."
He nodded his head once again. "If that's what you think is best." What else was he supposed to say? He wanted to know who this him was and if him meeting Andre let him get closer to Michonne then he'd take it.
"Yes. I want to move on with you, Rick. We have something and I finally understand what Andrea means. It's not my fault."
His hand fell from his cheek, stretching out his arm to slid underneath her body, wrapping his arms around her again. Her hand fell from her cheek to move underneath his neck. Her fingers played with his hair.
"When will I meet Andre?"
"Andrea invited me back to Atlanta to visit her sister and I want you to come with us."
"Of course." Then something inside of him clicked. Shane had mentioned through passing that Andrea was getting help. What if Andrea was rubbing off on Michonne, but last time he heard her sister was dead.
"Is Andre..."
Michonne nodded. Her eyes were wet. He leaned forward to plant a kiss on her cheek to silence himself for finishing his sentence.
"I'd love to meet Andre, Michonne."
She sighed in relief and snuggled closer to him. He rested his head on hers.
Now he had a name, he just needed to figure out who Andre was to her.