#rick mischief

[robertgroveenthusiast]

[prismatica-the-strange]

Out of this selection of my familial F/Os...

[riordanverse-craziness]

Greek Deities’ Fancast in Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Natalie Dormer as Circe

[imagines-random]

Chaossss

[frayed-wind]

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[wolvietxt]

any maybe this one for Daryl too if you have the time… 👀 I love the way you write the softer side of Daryl 🥺

unexpected laughter: grumpy is having a rough day, but sunshine tells a ridiculous joke or does something silly, and to everyone’s surprise, grumpy actually laughs - loud and genuine - despite trying to stay serious

DARYL was having one of those days. everything seemed to grate on his nerves - from the way the sun beat down too hot overhead to the way everyone seemed intent on being in his space.  

he’d spent the entire morning repairing a busted cart wheel, only to find out the axle was cracked too. by noon, he’d snapped at carol for hovering, glared at rick for asking too many questions, and muttered curses under his breath when judith toddled too close and almost stepped on his tools.  

and then there was you. you’d been hovering too, always trying to help, trying to cheer him up.  

“you want water?” you’d asked earlier, your voice all chipper and light.  

“don’t need nothin’,” he’d grumbled, not even looking up.  

you weren’t fazed, though. you rarely were when it came to him, which was both impressive and mildly infuriating. you had this way of brushing off his mood like it was nothing, sticking around no matter how hard he tried to push you off.  

so when you wandered into the yard again after lunch, daryl let out a low groan. he didn’t even look up as you plopped down on the bench next to his tools.  

“you’re still mad at the world, huh?” you teased, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees.  

“ain’t mad,” he muttered, jamming the wrench onto the axle with more force than necessary.  

“you sure? ‘cause you’ve been growling at everyone like a rabid dog since breakfast.”  

he shot you a glare, but you just smiled sweetly, like his bad mood wasn’t even a blip on your radar.  

“what do you want?” he grunted, returning to his work.  

“nothing. just thought you might need a little cheering up.”  

he let out a short, humorless laugh. “don’t need cheerin’.”  

“oh, i beg to differ,” you replied, your tone light. “you’ve got that permanent scowl thing going on. you’re like a storm cloud in human form.”  

he didn’t respond, too focused on the stubborn bolt that wouldn’t budge. you watched him for a few moments, your head tilted as if you were sizing him up.  

then, out of nowhere, you asked, “hey, daryl, what do you call a deer with no eyes?”  

he froze, his brow furrowing as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “what?”  

you grinned, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “no-eye-deer!”  

his jaw tightened, and he looked back at the cart like he hadn’t even heard you.  

undeterred, you leaned a little closer. “okay, okay, i got another one. what do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?”  

“don’t care,” he muttered, but you were already finishing the joke.  

“still no-eye-deer!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together like it was the funniest thing in the world.  

this time, his shoulders tensed, and for a second, you thought he might actually snap. instead, he just shook his head and muttered, “you’re impossible.”  

you pouted dramatically. “c’mon, daryl, that was a good one!”  

he grunted, but you weren’t done yet. you tapped your chin like you were deep in thought, then brightened as if you’d just remembered something brilliant.  

“oh! what do you call a fake noodle?”  

he sighed loudly, wrench still in hand. “don’t.”  

“an impasta!”  

that was it. something in him snapped - not in anger, but in disbelief. he let out a short, bark-like laugh before he could stop himself, quickly clamping his mouth shut as if he could take it back.  

your jaw dropped, and you pointed at him triumphantly. “i knew it! i made you laugh!”  

“did not,” he muttered, his ears turning pink as he went back to the cart.  

“did too,” you shot back, grinning from ear to ear. “you laughed. loud and everything.”  

he shook his head, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching, like he was fighting to keep the grin off his face. “you’re an idiot.”  

“maybe,” you said with a shrug, “but i made the grumpiest man alive laugh, so i’ll take it.”  

he finally looked at you then, his expression softening despite the lingering frustration in his eyes. “you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”  

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you replied, your smile unwavering.  

he shook his head again, but this time it was more in amusement than annoyance. “get outta here before you break somethin’.”  

“fine,” you said, standing up and brushing off your pants. “but just so you know, i’ve got plenty more where that came from.”  

“god help me,” he muttered, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips as you walked away.  

and for the rest of the day, every time he thought about that ridiculous joke, he couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that crept across his face.

ᰔ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs, @iheartpeterparker3000

@withasideofmeg, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[stra-tek]

Random spoilerific reasons to read Star Trek novels, with little to no context:

Ro/Quark is a thing

A Jem'Hadar joins DS9, tries to fit in but eventually snaps and tries to kill everybody

You learn the origins and final fate of the Borg

A thinly-veiled Dr. House clone joins the Voyager crew

Geordi briefly has 2 girlfriends at once (due to different writers not co-ordinating enough, but still)

There's a TOS book that's a musical

There are YA stories about Jake and Nog making mischief on DS9

YA stories about Worf, Geordi, Picard, Beverly, Kirk, Spock and McCoy at SFA

YA series about the Kelvinverse gang (including Gaila!) as cadets, taking on a drug problem at SFA and a very unique Borg scout in San Francisco

We very briefly meet the people who are to Q what the Q are to humanity

Janeway/Chakotay is a thing

Kirk's first mission in command of the Enterprise! Erm, at least twice.

Kirk was married between TOS and TMP

Her name was Lori

In the future, you have yearly marriage contracts that you either update or you don't and I think that's amazing

Trip didn't die! He faked his death to join Section 31 and go undercover as a Romulan

It's not great, tbh

The ENT books get better after the Romulan wars though, it's proper founding of the Federation stuff

We meet Jack Crusher (erm, the OG) when 4 timelines start overlapping and he's a bit unhinged

Teenage Kirk stole a car and his choice was go to jail or join Starfleet

What happened when Voyager got home? Seven broke up with Chakotay like 30 pages in

Kirk gets cloned, and his clone becomes the sub of an evil invincible super genius and its all very gay

George Kirk was Robert April's first officer on the first ever mission of the unnamed starship with the Naval Construction Contract 1701

Robert is a hard-core pacifist and has to turn command over to George whenever it's time to fire weapons

Data becomes fully human for a couple of days and it's really sweet

They never say "wristwatch" or "phone", it's always "wrist chrono" or "personal comm"

There are gays but they don't say that word because it's the 1990's and Rick Berman runs the franchise

Spock has a son in the past with Zarabeth

Everyone in the post-Nemesis era does spy missions all the time non stop, as if Starfleet has abandoned exploring the cosmos for doing Space Mission: Impossible

Bashir does it better than anyone else, he takes on Section 31 from the inside

Remember Control? It's from the novels, except the novels do it SO MUCH BETTER.

Remember how we never found out who Future Guy was? We do.

It's very underwhelming, nobody we know

We find out how the Romulans and Vulcans split

Surak was a Vulcan internet blogger

A Borg Cube eats Pluto

Janeway dies

Janeway gets better

At least one TOS book features a wizard

There's a Star Trek TOS/Here Come the Brides crossover novel

It had cameos from The Doctor (as in, Who), Han Solo, Starbuck and others

Whole book series about Section 31

Whole book series about the Department of Temporal Investigations

One time they do the Bill and Ted thing to escape confinement and it works

Wanna know how Riker and Troi met?

Wanna know what Picard got up to on the Stargazer?

Andorians have 4 sexes and it's very complicated

Data comes back from the dead as Data 2.0, and it was fresh and exciting because it happened long before ST: Picard did it twice.

Lal comes back too and we get father/daughter android stuff! They have a home and everything but keep having to save the universe

One time Mirror Seven is led around on a leash naked on Terok Nor

Geordi becomes captain of the USS Challenger, decides it's not for him because plot, and goes back to engineering on the Enterprise

Kirk is shot on the bridge and dies

Kirk gets better

They watch 3D holos of old Doctor Who episodes in the Enterprise rec room

The Enterprise also has an AI named Moira, which was Zora long before Zora

The TOS crew get together for one last mission. About three times.

There's a Perry Mason book except it's about Kirk's lawyer from that TOS episode

Data 2.0 owns and runs a massive gambling empire on Orion

Spock keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era

Scotty keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era

Bones keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era

You're on Tumblr so you already know about Killing Time

There's a guy named McKenzie Calhoun and he's a total badass and captains a ship of weirdos and misfits

Kirk comes back from the dead, saves the galaxy repeatedly, has an intersex child (who identifies as male) with a Romulan/Klingon hybrid

Kirk beats up Worf

Kirk's child has superpowers

Kirk's child saves the galaxy at age 6

The Kirk stuff is 100% ignored in the other novels

About 50% of the novels are ignored in the other 50%, and the ones that are meant to be in direct continuity with each other aren't always quite

Just like the TV shows and movies, then

Lwaxana Troi meets Q, and it goes as well as you'd expect

Someone tells Data, yes you idiot you had emotions all along and he's like, oh shit you're right

McCoy is left in command of the Enterprise as a joke by Kirk, who is then immediately kidnapped

Ro Laren is captain of Deep Space Nine

Picard/Beverly is a thing, they get married and have a child named Rene. No running away and raising your kid in secret here

Riker and Troi are married, serve on the Titan together with a bunch of adorable weirdos and have a daughter named Tasha

You get to watch all the 24th century characters die horribly in the end along with their entire universe. Holy fuck it's a bleak horror show. Personally, I love it. But if that's not your cup of tea I'd skip the Coda trilogy

[monstercangirlofficial]

Recommending some of my favorite rap songs. As a latin american trans woman, I didn't grow up with rap, but I learned to listen to and appreciate it. These are some great songs I think everyone should hear, and hopefully add to their playlists. These are Spotify links, but you can find these songs elsewhere too. My favorites are in blue:

Pop Rap: She's a Bitch by Missy Elliot (1999); Comfortable (ft. Babyface) by Lil Wayne (2003); Savage (ft. Beyoncé) by Megan Thee Stallion (2020); Too Many Nights (ft. Don Toliver & Future) by Metro Boomin (2022); Never Lose Me (ft. SZA & Cardi B) by Flo Mili (2024)

Classic Rap: My Mic Sounds Nice by Salt-N-Pepa (1986); South Bronx by Boogie Down Productions (1987); Welcome To The Terrordome by Public Enemy (1990); Born and Raised In Compton by DJ Quik (1991); When In Love by MC Lyte (1991)

Gangsta Rap: Gimme the Loot by The Notorious B.I.G. (1994); Cloverland (ft. Botany Boyz) by DJ Screw (1996); The Art of Peer Pressure by Kendrick Lamar (2012); Norf Norf by Vince Staples (2015); Tear Gas (ft. Rick Ross & Lil Wayne) by Conway the Machine (2022)

G-Funk: Nuthin' But A "G" Thang (ft. Snoop Dogg) by Dr. Dre (1992); Funkdafied by Da Brat (1994); It's Supposed to Bubble by UGK (1994); Dusted 'N' Disgusted (ft. 2Pac, Mac Mall & Spice 1) by E-40 (1995); Can't C Me by 2Pac (1996)

Conscious Rap: Proletariat Blues by Blue Scholars (2006); 4 Your Eyez Only by J. Cole (2016); Blood of the Fang by clipping. (2019); Iman (ft. SiR & JID) by Rapsody (2019); I Love You, I Hate You by Little Simz (2021)

Abstract Rap: Accordion by Madvillain (MF DOOM & Madlib) (2000); Mural by Lupe Fiasco (2015); The Punishment of Sisyphus by Hermit and the Recluse (Ka & Animoss) (2018); Magician (Suture) by Milo (2017); Arugula by Junglepussy (2020)

Jazz Rap: Jazz (We've Got) by A Tribe Called Quest (1991); 93 'Til Infinity by Souls Of Mischief (1993); The World Is Yours by Nas (1994); Yesterday by Noname (2016); Live! from the Kitchen Table (ft. Ghais Guevara) by McKinley Dixon (2023)

Trap: Ridin' N' Da Chevy by Three Six Mafia (1999); Love Don't Live (U Abandoned Me) by Gangsta Boo (2001); Kay Kay by Chief Keef (2012); Digits by Young Thug (2016); Poppin by Rico Nasty (2017)

Experimental Rap: Spiritual Healing by dälek (2002); Persistence by Lil Ugly Mane (2015); Ain't It Funny by Danny Brown (2016); Thug Tears by JPEGMAFIA (2018); Superman That by Injury Reserve (2021)

I strongly recommend checking out other songs by these artists, the albums these songs are from, more songs from these genres and others I didn't include, and to explore everything hip hop has to offer (especially hip hop made by women). Feel free to add any artists and songs I (obviously) missed, that you think deserve more love and recognition, particularly independent music. Enjoy!

[virtualreader]

roadside temptations

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: the car breaks down on the way back to the prison when you and Rick were coming back from a small run, and you figure out a way to kill time.

word count: 1,7k.

warnings: fingering, manturbation (female reciving), thigh riding, unprotected sex (p in v), cursing, praising, dick riding, etc. not proofread.

requested: yes (by anonymous).

+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!

As the car continued along the road, the gentle rumble of the engine slowly began to transform into a more noticeable rattling sound, and the once smooth ride became slightly more unstable as the vehicle began to wobble ever so lightly.

You and Rick had gone on a supply run to gather the essentials - medical supplies and food - and anything useful you could find. Given the current state of things, you knew that every little thing counted. It was supposed to be a day's journey; however, as luck would have it, your vehicle did not seem up to your wishes, as it malfunctioning and running slower than usual.

“That doesn’t sound exactly nice and smooth,” you said, pointing out the worrying clatter coming from the motor. “Do you think we should stop and check it out?”

"It's probably best if we do," Rick agreed. He didn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, having just a couple of hours left until sunset. "'M gonna pull over to that siding, and I'll take a look at it.”

Rick did as said, stopping the car when he had reached the pull-off. He opened the driver’s seat door and step out, heading to the front of the car. You watched as Rick popped open the hood and began to inspect the engine, a troubled expression breaking across his once calm features after he poked around a bit.

Rick followed instructions and stopped the car at the pull-off. He got out of the driver’s seat and walked to the front of the car. You observed as Rick opened the hood and inspected the engine.

After poking around for a while, a troubled expression crossed his previously calm features. Rick slamed the hood shut with a loud bang, and, with his thumbs in his pockets, returned to the car, behind the wheel.

"Looks like we're stuck here for a while," he said, turning to face you.

“If only you’d listened to me when I told you,” you scolded Rick. “We should’ve checked everything was in order before setting off.”

He was in such a hurry to depart that he didn't even stop to verify the condition of the engine. He was to blame for your setback.

While you rebuked Rick, his gaze remained glued to your lips, moving as you spoke.

"Are you listening to me at all?" you asked Rick, shaking your head in exasperation.

“God, you're so fucking hot when you're mad," he said with a smirk.

"You're a lost cause, you know that, right?" you sigh, still trying to hold onto your annoyance with Rick, on the brink of succumbing to his pleading eyes.

"Maybe," Rick responds with a wry smile, "but you long for this lost cause to touch you." His voice is playful and teasing, and it has the abillity to snap you out of your anger.

It's not that you don't appreciate Rick's sense of humor and charm - it's just that sometimes, it can be a little too much, especially when you're in a stressful situation like this one. But as he sits there beside you in the car, his eyes sparkling with mischief, you can’t help feeling the fluttering butterflies, the same ones you got back when he first started flirting with you.

As he moved his hand along the exposed skin of your thigh, you felt a rush of desire course through your body. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine and you found yourself yearning for more. You wondered what it would be like to have his hands explore every inch of your body, to feel his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as you melted under his touch.

You gave in to your desires and crossed over to the driver's seat, straddling Rick.

In a sudden and spontaneous movement, he grabbed your arms and pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips against yours in a fervent and ardent kiss. If you could not make it home, you might as well enjoy the privacy the deserted roads provided.

You interrupted the kiss, opening your eyes to observe his face, which you held in your hands. You noticed the way his eyes sparkled in the fading light, and the way his lips curved into a small smile. How you had gotten so lucky to have found someone like him in this chaotic and unpredictable world?

You buried your face in the crook of his neck and sucked, savoring the salty flavor of his perspiring skin. The lustful action elicited a grunt from Rick, and seeing him enjoying it only made you hornier.

Unable to resist the temptation to indulge your erotic desires, you began rubbing your denim-covered pussy on Rick's leg. The sensation was electric as you indulged in your carnal urges, your body responding with increasing arousal and a sense of unbridled wildness.

"Behave, babygirl, " Rick gasped, trying to keep some semblance of control. “Quit that if you want me to please you anytime soon.”

But you were relentless, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Rick's voice was strained as he fought to keep his composure, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of desire and amusement. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart race.

Despite his warning, you couldn't resist the temptation to tease him, to see just how far you could push him. You continued to grind your hips against his leg, feeling the friction and the growing wetness between your thighs. Your breathing became more and more erratic as the pleasure built inside you, and you could tell that Rick was struggling to keep up his facade of control.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" he growled, his hands tightening on your hips. "Because if that's your plan, it's working."

You smirked, feeling a sense of power in the way you were able to affect him.

"Maybe," you said, your voice low and sultry. "Or maybe I just want you to take me right here in this car."

Rick's eyes widened at your boldness, and for a moment you thought he might actually give in to your demands. But then he shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips.

Rick pushed a hand against your chest, gently but firmly, conveying both his desire and authority, moving you back so he could access the button on your shorts, and, using just one hand, he undid it effortlessly. There was little space inside the tea green Hyundai SUV, hence the steering wheel digging your back as the man under you battled to roll your pants down.

"No panties?" You gave a feeble smile as the corners of your lips turned up when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear under your shorts. "You sure are a dirty little slut, ain't you?”

His large hands griped you tights, spreading your legs so you were stradling his lap. Your eyes closed, anticipation taking over you when his hard boner grazed your crotch through the denim fabric. You moaned in response to his fingers caresses in your cunt, which soon turned into a swifter rub, his middle and ring finger at both sides of your clit.

As the passion between you and Rick grew, you heard him whisper in your ear, "You can get louder, can't you?" and you responded by letting out a moan of pleasure.

The sound only seemed to encourage him as he continued to touch and explore your body, his hand working its way up under your shirt until he reached your tit, stroking it between his cold fingertips. You were completely under his spell, and you loved every moment of it.

A gasp left your mouth when he slided a finger inside you without prior notice.

“Rick.” you muttered in a submissive wail.

“What do you want, honey?” he teased, adding another finger to his pumping. “Is it me?”

You hummed in agreement, your eyes closed and head tilted backward as your walls squeezed his fingers. Signs of an impending orgasm emerged, the swell of bliss making its way up your core.

Yet, your expression of rapture quickly changed to one of disappointment when Rick's fingers left your hole, the sense of emptiness outweighing any pleasure.

"If you want to come, you better beg," he growled in your ear, and you knew you were completely under his control.

“Please, Rick” with a soft whimper, you begged him to take you, to make you his completely. “I want you, I want you to fill me.”

Without a second thought, his own urgency beyond human limits, Rick pulled the lever under the bottom of the seat, and it swung back, increasing the wiggrling space. He pulled up his shirt and pulled down his trousers before freeing his throbbing member from the suffocating fabric of his stone grey boxers.

At the sight, your mouth watered, and you eagerly mounted his erect, precum-dripping cock. you began to bounce up and down, your hips meeting in a sensual rhythm with each thrust.

"Attagirl," Rick praised you amidst his own gleefulness.

The car may have broken down and left you stranded on the side of the road, but in that moment, all you could think about was the intense desire that had overtaken your body. You wanted to feel Rick's hands over you, as your bodies melted into one, to be completely consumed by the zeal of this moment.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Rick whispered in your ear as you rode him, your hips moving faster and faster as you approached the brink of orgasm.

You moaned in response, your body writhing with pleasure as Rick's hands roamed over your body, touching you in all the right places as you rode him harder and harder.

You reached your peak, your body shaking with ecstasy as you came hard, your walls contracting around Rick's cock as he pumped into you one last time before spilling his own release inside you.

As you collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily, you couldn't help but think that getting stuck on the side of the road might have been the best thing that ever happened to you.

[bobbyseyesmile]

Attitude | Part 3

Summary: Y/N has to think about what she wants: a rather safe life with Shane but she‘ll lose her sanity and might explore parts of her own mind she must sacrifice or will she put a bullet, between his perfect brown eyes, as the rational side of her brain tries to advise her.

A/N: soo uhm, i‘m sorry (no i‘m not lol) this is filth. HAVE FUN also thanks to my lovely @angel-litter who inspired me to write a third part

Characters: Dark!ShaneWalsh x Reader

WARNINGS: age gap (reader is 18+) / explicit sexual content, swearing - I can’t stress enough that this is a dark fic: Shane is a mean motherfucker and just takes what he wants. Don’t like, don’t read. You’ve been warned.

Trigger warning: dub-con | 18+

🔞 MINORS DNI below the cut! 🔞

➻ Part 2 [M]

The sun was setting over the horizon, casting long shadows over the prison walls. The world was quiet, save for the distant groans of walkers and the occasional rustle of leaves.

The group had settled for the evening, a small fire crackling in the front yard, warming the people who stood guard for the night. Shane Walsh sat on the outskirts, cleaning his gun with practiced ease. He glanced up, his eyes narrowing as you approached.

"Something you need, princess?" Shane drawled, his voice tinged with mockery.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just checking to make sure you’re not planning to run off again. Wouldn’t want the group’s supposed protector to abandon us."

Shane smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. He knew exactly what you were getting at: On last week’s supply run he disappeared for hours, nobody knew where he went and Rick got nervous as the hours passed by. When the sun began to set Shane casually walked towards the prison, not even batting an eye that almost everyone was looking for him.

Everyone but you. You kept telling yourself to stay away from him, not getting pulled into the dark abyss that surrounded Shane Walsh. He was a hothead and dangerous as he preferred to work alone instead of teams.

Your father worried a lot about the future; your mom’s pregnancy wasn’t helping at all. Thankfully you found the prison and its large protective walls that kept you save; as long as everyone was willing to do their part.

Except Shane fucking Walsh.

Shane’s eyes shamelessly wandered over your body, relishing the memories when you were a whimpering hot mess. His whimpering and hot mess. The older man knew exactly what chokehold he had over you and he so wished to make that chokehold a reality.

“Don’t worry about grown men business, little girl. Get your sexy ass back to the others, I’m sure your daddy needs you to count all the peas in the kitchen.”

Rage boiled inside your stomach and you stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest as its been months since you’ve been this close to him. “You know, Shane, it’s a wonder you keep others and yourself safe with that big ego of yours. Must be hard to fit through the doorways.”

It wasn’t your best comeback but something in his eyes flickered; a tiny hint of anger that washed over his face, giving you a feeling of satisfaction.

Shane chuckled, leaning back and taking in the sight in front of him. "My ego ain’t the only thing big but you already know that, don’t you baby?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, but you refused to back down. "Don't flatter yourself. You're just a big fish in a small pond."

"Oh, is that so?" Shane stood up, his towering presence making your heart race even more. He stepped closer, bodies almost touching. "You seem pretty interested in this big fish even though you try so hard to stay away from me."

You gulped and put a hand on his chest to keep some distance between, afraid someone might be watching you. “Sh-shut up, Shane.” His large hand wrapped around your wrist, giving it a harsh tug to close the distance between your bodies. You let out a small whimper; music to his ears and it made him contemplate the idea of fucking you right here right now.

“Careful, lamb, or I might need to remind you of your past lessons… but you’re not entirely hating the idea of that, do you?”

Your pulse quickened at his words, a mixture of anger and desire swirling within you. You turned your face to escape his intense stare, but Shane was relentless. His grip on your chin was firm, forcing you to face him again.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you. You wan’t me on your side, ya listen? Don’t push me away or ya won’t like the outcome.”

His voice was low and dangerous, each word sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched as you met his gaze, the raw power and emotion in his eyes both thrilling and terrifying.

“Shane-“ you whimpered “You’re hurting me.”

His dark eyes glistening with excitement. “Good. I know you like it.”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding in your chest. You hated how he made you feel, how he could so easily break through your defenses. But beneath the anger, there was something else—something that scared you even more than Shane’s crazy look. You were falling for him. Falling hard.

Shane's hand moved from your chin to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. "You feel that?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost tender. "That's your heart racing because of me.” His thumb continued to caress the soft skin until he positioned it under your chin, chocking you in a harsh grip.

“And I bet that’s your sweet lil' pussy, all flustered and dripping, begging for my cock. Ain’t that right, girl?”

As fast as his grip appeared on your neck it also disappeared as your father turned around the corner.

“There you are, sweetheart!” he spoke, voice soft and filled with love as he laid eyes on you. “Your mom needs you in the infirmary. Hershel’s already with her.”

Rick’s eyes wandered between you. “Everything alright here?”

“Well, I found Y/N wandering all alone out here. She should be inside after curfew.” Shane clicked his tongue as you threw him a spiteful glance. A smirk played around his lips as your father agreed.

“He’s right, Y/N. You know the rules; only the designated guards are allowed outside after 10 pm.”

“But, dad-“

“Zip it, honey. Go help your mother, she’s having another nauseous episode.”

“Great…” you whispered under your breath but softened your gaze when you noticed your father’s look. He was tired. “Okay, I’ll look after her.”

“That’s my baby girl.” he gave you a kiss on your forehead before starting to walk away. Shane waited for him to disappear around the corner before giving your ass a harsh slap.

“Ouch! What the fu-“

“Think of me when you bury your fingers in that sweet cunt tonight. As you do every night.” He whispered in your ear before giving you a slight push. “Now go.”

Almost two weeks passed and you managed to stay out of Shanes way, he was more impulsive than ever. Running around, barking commands and undermining your father as the leader of the group. You despised it, truly hated him and his behaviour but still you lied awake at night, thinking about his fingers and the way they would feel inside y-

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

You teared your mind away from the sinful fantasies it fabricated and turned your head towards your father. The group was sitting around a big table, eating dinner and discussing plans for the oncoming days.

“Huh?” you raised your eyebrows and saw as Shane frowned at you.

“Hell naw, she’s not even listening. Damn, Rick! She’s not fucking ready!” Your father sighed, rubbing his forehead in annoyment.

“No! I listened, I’m ready!” you quickly lied and Shanes eye twitched. He knew you were lying but of course Rick didn’t notice it.

“Really?” he asked and you quickly nodded, a tad to enthusiastic.

“Fine. Then it’s settled; you and Shane go on the supply run for this week.” You nodded once again, way less excited now and looked at Shane who had his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. “You listen to everything he says, is that clear, Y/N?”

Shane smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, she will, Rick. She will.”

The next day the afternoon sun was setting, casting a dim, ominous light over the abandoned neighborhood. You and Shane moved cautiously through the empty streets, listening for any signs of movement.

"Stay close," Shane ordered, his voice gruff.

"I can take care of myself," you shot back but he ignored your sassiness as leaves rustled in distance.

As you approached an old, dilapidated house, the distant groans of walkers grew louder.

"Great," you muttered. "Just what we needed."

"Inside," Shane barked, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the house.

Shane pushed you through the door, slamming it shut behind you. He quickly pushed a heavy piece of furniture against it, barricading you in. The walkers outside pounded against the walls, their growls echoing through the house.

You anxiously paced the room, nerves on edge. "This is just perfect. We’re trapped."

Shane ignored you, his focus on securing the surroundings. "We’ll be fine. Just stay quiet."

You stopped and glared at him. "You always think you know best, don’t you?"

Shane turned to face you, his eyes cold and hard. "Someone has to keep their head on straight. You’re too busy playing daddies little girl."

"Playing what?!" your voice rose. "I'm trying to survive, just like you!"

Shane stepped closer, his presence intimidating. "You think you can survive without me? You’d be dead if it wasn’t for me."

Your heart pounded, a mix of fear and anger flooding your veins. "I don’t need you, Shane. I can handle myself." He laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "You keep telling yourself that, princess. But we both know the truth: your little crush isn’t that little anymore. You’re pathetic trying to deny it.”

You took a step back, but Shane followed, his eyes dark with a dangerous intensity. "Why are you doing this?" you demanded but your voice gave away. "Why do you have to be so… mean?"

"Mean?" Shane’s voice was low and menacing. "You think this is mean? You haven’t seen anything yet. I’ve been holding back, but maybe it’s time you learned just how serious I am."

Your breath hitched as Shane backed you against the wall, his body towering over you. "Shane, stop," you said, voice trembling.

"Stop? Why would I stop? You need to understand something, Y/N. You’re mine. You belong to me. And I’m not letting anyone, or anything, take you away."

Shane studied your eyes; they were filled with a mix of fear and defiance. "You don’t own me, Shane. I’m not yours to control."

He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. "You think you have a choice? You think you can just walk away? You can’t, I won’t let you, ever.”

His lips crashed onto your own, fierce and demanding, his hands roaming possessively over your body. You tried to push him away, your brain telling you to get away from him but the wetness between your legs mocked you. Your own body betrayed you.

Shane’s hands gripping your waist, pulling you against his hard chest, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and arousal. You let out a moan as his knee pushed against your clothed sex, roughly rubbing you through your jeans. You needed more, more of him.

“Shane-“

“Shut up.” He spit back, his fingers ripping the button off your pants. “All I want to hear are those pretty moans, you understand?” You wanted to protest but the look in his eyes made you change your mind so you just nodded. “Good girl.”

You sighed when his fingers finally touched you, he stroked them over the drenched material of your panties. “Of course.” he mocked and shoved a finger inside your entrance.

He set a fast and rough rhythm but you didn’t mind, all that mattered was the pure bliss that slowly spread through your system. “M-more.” you begged and it made him snort.

“Needy little whore. You can’t handle more but I’ll give it to you anyways.” A second finger entered you, spreading the tight walls to his liking.

Shane watched your face, your hooded eyes and slightly parted lips with a small whimper escaping here and there. But he needed you to understand that you were his, there was no escape from him. He needed you to scream his name.

“Fuck, darling, your little cunt is tight. This I will enjoy-“ You opened your eyes and glanced at his hardened cock, his tip red and angry and glistening with precum. Shane knew you were a virgin and it almost made him lose his mind as he imagined taking your innocence away for the first time. He saw the fear in your eyes and he loved it.

He lifted you up, slowly pushing inside you, watching all the emotions washing over your face and you never looked more beautiful to him.

“I c-can’t-“ you whimpered and he came to a stop, waiting for your eyes to open. When you did you saw his eyes soften, almost tenderly. But just a moment later you noticed the smirk around his lips. “You will.”

His cock suddenly entered you with such a force it squeezed all air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping between his chest and the wall he had caged you in. The sharp pain made your brain panic but your body, oh your body welcomed him with such ease it was almost embarrassing.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight-“ he groaned and his fingers dug into the soft skin at your hips. It would leave marks, you were sure, but couldn’t care less.

The pain slowly faded into a completely unique and new feeling, a feeling deep inside you. Something your fingers never managed to even scratch the surface of it. You bit your lips till you tasted blood, his length filling you up at a relentlessly pace. Shanes hand circled around your delicate neck, the grip of his fingers began to tighten leaving you chocking around them. The lack of air left your brain in a hazy state.

You weren’t even sure how it was possible for him to be this deep inside you; his length made it seem impossible but your body proved you wrong as your hungry cunt swallowed him whole. Shane felt his release approaching the more he watched your face and listening to your sloppy moans.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth hung open for a silent cry but nothing came out as your orgasm washed over you in intense waves; your blood rushing in your ears as you came all over his dick.

Shane roughly claimed your lips once again, dominating the kiss as it left you literally breathless. His grip on your waist increased, threatening to break you in half as he fucked you through both of your highs. He gave one final thrust before he came hot and heavy, painting your insides white.

The euphoria from your first time quickly vanished as you felt the warm liquid dripping down your legs. Shane noticed the panic in your eyes and let out a hoarse chuckle.

“Thought I was joking when I said I’ll never let ya go, huh? You’re fucking mine forever, princess.”

The rational part inside you was ready to run, to grab the nearest object and bash it over his head but the other part, the part that was hopelessly in love with this psychopath of a man, stayed still.

Accepting your new fate as you felt his lips on your ear:

“And I’ll kill everyone that comes between us.”

[inexplicifics]

I have the headcanon goose trick that happened in the earlier days of Lambert and Milena courting. For the sake of not spending too much time on this and also because my lazy brain found it funny, Cedric named his horse Axe for Axel, so it would be an inside-ish joke on the Path that he was always riding Axe(l), and Axel felt the need to one-up him by starting off naming his horse Rick, which changed to Dick, which changed to Dicky.

Sorry in advance for the lazy writing, it’s 4 am and my brain is in slow mode right now.

** ** **

“They did what?” Lambert snarled, swearing vociferously.

“It was a joke, Lambert! A harmless prank!” Milena soothed.

“They’ll see how harmless that prank was when I see them on the training field!”

“Uncle Lambert.” Both adults turn to that voice that brooked no argument. “You’re forgetting something.”

“Forgetting something? What am I forgetting, Menace?” Lambert’s brow furrowed Try as he might, he couldn't think of what Ciri meant.

“Milena is sworn to Papa,” Ciri started, eyes glittering with mischief, “but she’s also sworn to me. My lady-in-waiting is mine to protect.”

The look in the kid’s eye said Cedric and Axel would be learning a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.

***

Cedric and Axel always spent some time with their horses after dinner, so they were full and happy as they wandered into the stable. That state morphed into confusion as soon as they opened the horse stalls to see no horse, just a goose with the same colouring.

Cedric looked in dread at the goose with Axe’s colouring, then turned back to his lover. “Goose trick?”

Axel was still staring at his goose. It had the same spot over its left eye as Dicky. “Medallion’s vibrating, so that would certainly be my guess.”

***

The first thirty minutes were spent trying to find a sorceress with the time to de-goosify their horses. Triss roped the two witchers into helping her finish some Swallows for Gweld and Aiden after a disastrous race down and up the Killer has left both with multiple fractures and Gweld with some nasty splinters from where he collided with a tribute wagon. No sooner did she turn to ask what she could do for the duo, did a human child crying over a sprained wrist come in.

Yennefer, on the other hand, set down her stack of papers with a grin. Cedric and Axel barely had time to give each other a look of wariness before she’d distributed a list of herbs and alchemical ingredients that they were to collect if they wanted her help de-goosifying anything and sendt them through a portal, an alert crystal thrown through after them.

Four hours and many scratches later, they returned with the moss, mould, buckthorn, and endrega queen embryos as requested, and Yennefer whisked the ingredients away with a smile, standing to follow them to the stables.

“They certainly have magic on them.” Yennefer reached out to Dicky and the spot disappeared, but nothing else changed.

“Change them back, witch.” Cedric growled.

“I removed the enchantments from one goose, but it is still very much a goose. The magic we sensed was the glamour. I’ll try my luck with the other one, but I wouldn’t expect different results.” Yennefer snapped back, walking into the other stall.

Axel dipped his head in apology for his lover. “We’re just a bit worried, is all.”

The magic stripped from the goose believed to be Axe is equally unimpressive. Yennefer sighed. “Goose tricks are harmless, if Ciri is messing with you, your horses are certainly safe. Supper will start in half an hour. Go wash in the hot springs, and ask her after the meal. If you’ll excuse me, I must go remove the stench of hay and horses.”

***

Cedric and Axel were rather sedate as they took their seats at the Cat table, Axel leaning into the arm Cedric had wrapped around him. Even as the table started to fill and their siblings started poking fun about the geese, neither put much effort into the banter.

Suddenly, Dragonfly poked Axel with a grin. “Menace looks smug, eh? Those are some handsome cats she and Milena have there!”

Axel felt Cedric’s grip tighten and turned to the Wolf table, where Ciri and Milena were carrying a cat each towards the Cat table. Milena looked somewhat apologetic behind her lady, who was grinning like a fiend. The cats in their arms also had the colouring of the missing horses, and again, Axel felt his medallion vibrate.

The girls held the cats out to Cedric and Axel, and Axel tried not to get his hopes too high, the Menace enjoyed causing maximum chaos, so this couldn’t be what it seemed.

“Don’t you think cats belong at the Cat table?” Ciri blinked up at them innocently.

The lovers stood and each took a cat into their arms. Immediately, their medallions began violently vibrating, and suddenly the animals in their arms were no longer cats, but horses. Carefully setting the animals on their feet, they looked a little accusingly at the Menace.

“Milena is under my protection.” The little girl announced proudly. “It seemed like you needed to be reminded.” She shrugged.

They only noticed the rest of the hall had filed in during the exchange when the raucous laughter started.

“I told you the geese were normal!” Yennefer called from her seat at the Wolf table, violet eyes sparkling with mirth.

“You’re cleaning up the shit!” Dragonfly guffawed as Axel watched Dicky lift his tail in horror.

Lesson learned: the Menace may not protect her people with a blade like her Papa yet, but that doesn't mean she skimps on her duty.

Delightful!

[rain0tes]

No words can express how much it is doing HEHEUSVJSGSJZBWKUE to me, thank you for writing this, I shall take it and bite it

Can I request on how the other character staying in the hotel feel about the reader?

Of course you can, nonnie! I'm so glad people like hacker!reader so much 😭

How the other residents at the Hazbin Hotel feel about hacker!reader

Angel dust and you would not get along at first. His hypersexual nature puts you off, which he teases you for.

"what? can't handle a bit of teasing, sweet cheeks?"

"stay six feet away from me."

Eventually, when he does tone it down, he finds that he enjoys your company quite a bit. You're pretty down to earth, and probably the sanest resident in the hotel.

That doesn't make your conversations any less weird.

"so basically you can use 'ussy' as a suffix for anything that has a hole."

"So, like, spidussy?"

Collective groan from everyone else while you cackle uncontrollably.

Teaching sinners gen Z lingo aside, you two would get up to mischief very often (much to everyone else's annoyance). The whole "replacing every porno video with a rick roll" was actually his idea. Petty revenge!

Husk is mostly indifferent about you, up until he realizes that Alastor is interested in you in one way or another. He tries to warn you not to have anything to do with him. He would know. But then again you've never been one to be told what you can or can't do.

Annoyed when you make a deal with Alastor regardless of his warnings, but at least you didn't give up your soul(?)

You two get pretty close afterwards. Something about looking out for you since you're so impulsive.

He's the one who helps you adjust to hell, telling you about things you need to know.

Learns very quickly that once you've put your mind to something, there's no persuading you out of it.

"Husk! Let's go eat at that fancy restaurant, my treat."

"It takes months to get a reservation to that place. And neither of us can pay for it."

"I bumped our reservation for tonight. Besiiiiides, I don't think the Vee's would mind if I take a couple hundred dollars off of their account."

You're gonna get yourself killed one of these days.

He's gotta make sure to prevent it.

Vaggie does not appreciate you messing with the V's.

You try to assure her that they wouldn't find out, but she's still skeptic.

Point taken, you just hide what you're doing from her as much as you can.

She wonders if you really did stop but has a nagging feeling that you're just doing it behind closed doors instead of doing it in the hotels lobby.

"You're endangering everyone else in the hotel!"

"They're not smart enough to find out. Did you know that they have surveillance around the hotel? I can turn all of that off."

Well, so far, they really haven't found out.

But the moment you endanger anyone in the hotel, you're out.

Charlie was ecstatic the first time you came to the hotel after it had just been rebuilt. After a while of staying there, that excitement dies down as she realizes how much of a handful you are.

Still, she's glad to have you around. No one said that redeeming souls was an easy task.

Realizes way too late that you're not really interested in redemption.

Like a few months in way too late.

But at least they have a new technician? You're pretty adept with anything that works on electricity and the help is really appreciated. Especially now that they're confident they won't be spied on while you're around.

Also worried about you constantly messing with the V's, but she's more worried about your safety.

But her dad seems particularly fond over you, and Alastor said he'd make sure you won't get killed. You should be fine, right?

(masterlist)

[rottenimagines]

Sweet Temptation

Summary: Just Negan trying to seduce you into helping him get out of his cell.

(Little disclaimer: English is not my native language, but I try my best, I promise x.)  

.

.

You've been secretly visiting Negan for several nights.

 In daylight, you act like another ordinary member of Alexandria, while at night, you betray your own people by sneaking into the infamous killer's cell to help him by bringing him food, or just keeping him company.

.

.

As soon as Negan sees that it's you who’s coming down the stairs, he stands up and walks over to the bars of his cell to greet you.

‘‘What do you have for me tonight, darling?’’ He tries to speak in his trademark flirtatious tone, but it's obvious he's defeated inside.

You hand him a sandwich wrapped in napkins through the bars.

 He notices how your eyes light up as soon as you see him; just by feeling him close. My ticket to freedom, he thinks.

‘‘Thank you, honey. I’m starved tonight.’’ He takes the sandwich and unwraps it.

 ‘‘Mmmm. You're such a sweet, helpful girl, aren't you?’’ He winks at you as he takes the first bite.

You lean against the wall to watch him eat in silence. He looks tired and thinner. His physical appearance is beginning to decay. This Negan is only a shadow of his former self.

‘‘So... how you doin', Negan?’’

He sighs heavily and rubs his forehead.

‘‘I feel like I'm going insane. I just want to feel the sun against my face again, y’know?’’

He looks deep into your eyes, giving you the puppy dog eyes.

‘‘I'm tired of these bars. I'm tired of this cage. I want to be out in the world again. Just you and me, darling. Just you and me.’’

A chill runs down your spine when you hear his sweet words. 

You approach the cell again and grab the bars with both hands. You look him up and down.

‘‘You look... tired.’’

He nods while still chewing.

‘‘I am, I am. They don't give me enough to eat. They treat me like I'm some rabid dog.  I'm going crazy in here.’’  He puts his face right up to the bars, getting very close to you. ‘‘I need to be freed. I really need your help, Y/n.’’

You can feel his warm breath on your face. You're deeply attracted to him, but still you’re not stupid; you can't help but distrust him. He has done terrible things to your people after all.

‘‘Look, I know you're hesitant. You have every right to be. I wouldn't trust me either. But you and I, doll... we have something special... We understand each other.’’ 

He gently brushes a loose hair out of you face. ‘‘This cell is killing me...’’

‘‘Negan... you know I can't do it.’’

He exhales in defeat and pulls back a bit.

‘‘Well... I had to try.’’ He shrugs and continues eating the rest of his sandwich.

After several minutes of awkward silence, he starts talking again:

‘‘So, you like coming down here to visit me, huh? What if Rick and the others found out you're here?’’

Your body tenses just thinking about it. He laughs at your reaction, at the sudden fear all over your face. 

‘‘It's our little secret, ain't it?’’ He gives you a quick wink as he finishes his sandwich.

A mischievous little smirk curves your lips.

 ‘‘Exactly. This is our little secret. I hope you don't forget.’’

You put your hand through the bars and he hands you back the napkin. Then he continues talking with his usual charming tone:

‘‘You really enjoy these "secret" visits, don’t you? You enjoy visiting the big bad Negan in his cage.’’ He smirks as you grab the napkin from his hand.

‘‘I’m just a good samaritan doing her good deed for the day.’’ You answer him, mimicking his seductive tone.

His eyes sparkle with mischief as he looks at you intently.

‘‘Samaritan? No. You are much, much more than a samaritan, my dear, sweet friend.’’

He leans over the bars and kisses the tips of his fingers before touching your cheek with them. You enjoy deeply the touch of his fingers on your soft skin, even if it's only through the bars.

He looks down at you with a sly smile. ‘‘I think you actually like a little too much these secret meetings with the big, bad man, all alone.’’

You bring your face closer to his, losing yourself into his dark hazel eyes. His face just a few inches from yours.

‘‘Maybe I do.’’

‘‘Maybe you do, huh? And if I told you I know a way to make these secret meetings a little more... interesting?’’ He whispers, looking down at your lips.

Your eyes, full of desire for that man, drift down toward his lips and then back up to meet his piercing eyes.

‘‘Oh, really? Enlighten me, then. Please.’’

‘‘How about this...’’ He looks at your lips again and leans a little closer. ‘‘...a little less talking. A little more kissing...’’

Your heart beats as someone who knows they are doing something forbidden, something absolutely illegal. But you just can’t deny him.

You take a quick look over your shoulder to make sure no one else is there. And then, you turn to him to press your lips against his, for the first time.

He closes his eyes and kisses you back with passion. You can feel his tongue slide between your lips as he moves his hand around the back of your neck to bring you closer; as close as the bars allow you to be.

Afterwards, he slowly pulls away and looks at you, breathing heavily. His sly smile grows bigger as he leans into you and whispers in a deep, sultry tone:

‘‘Wow, baby. You really are a naughty girl, aren't ya?’’

[daryltwdixon]

The Promise of Us: Chapter 20

You

“Hey, pretty girl,” a voice says from behind you, low and rough, as you feel a finger wrap around a lock of your hair, tugging it gently. The unexpected touch pulls your head back slightly, your neck arching from the surprise. You twist to look at the eldest Dixon brother, a hesitant smile breaking through despite yourself.

“What’s up, Merle?” you say casually, turning back to the guns laid out on the table, your hands moving with practiced precision as you clean them. The familiar routine helps you think, grounding you, letting your mind wander when all it wants to do is rush to panic in times like these.

“Just tryna take a little vacation,” he says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Best dope I ever found was in a mattress or tucked behind a shelf in a room like this.” He saunters around the table, coming to stand directly across from you, his eyes narrowing with mischief. You eye him skeptically, your lips tightening. You’ve never approved of his habits, especially anything harder than weed or alcohol. He knows it too.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he mocks, his grin cocky as ever. “Shit will mess my life up—cause it’s goin' so sweetly now, ain’t it?”

A small huff of laughter escapes you, but your mind is already on edge, sensing there’s more beneath the surface of his banter. You keep working on the guns, waiting for him to get to the real reason he’s here. His eyes linger on your hands, the unspoken words weighing heavier than the ones he’s already said.

“My brother doesn’t own a pair of balls,” he grumbles suddenly, picking up one of the weapons and inspecting it. His words are biting, but there’s an edge of uncertainty to them, like he’s circling around something he doesn’t know how to say.

You scoff, unable to hold back. “Are you ever gonna accept him as he is, Merle? That man cares more than you ever have, and is tougher than anyone I know—maybe except you. But that’s ‘cause you’re an asshole.” You chuckle, trying to diffuse the tension, and when his eyes land back on you, you stick your tongue out playfully.

But Merle’s expression doesn’t soften. He leans in, his face shadowed by something darker. “I don’t think anyone here has the stomach for what’s comin',” he says, voice low and stern. He places the gun back on the table and rests his weight on his hand and metal prosthetic, leaning closer until his eyes level with yours. The intensity in his gaze sends a chill down your spine, and your smile fades.

You set the gun down, your fingers suddenly feeling cold, “Merle, you clearly got somethin’ to say, so spit it out,” you mutter, turning away to avoid the full force of his stare.

He exhales sharply, a mix of frustration and resignation. “I don’t know what happened when you were at Woodbury, girl—before I interrupted that sweet little chat in the room with The Governor—but just know he ain’t forgotten. He wants more, sweetheart.”

Your eyes snap back to his, your body going rigid, muscles tensing with a mix of anger and fear. A rush of memories flashes through your mind: the Governor’s hands on you, his breath hot and repulsive against your skin, his hips pressing you into the table. You force yourself to swallow the bile rising in your throat.

“The hell you on about?” you mean for it to come out more blunt, biting. But it’s barely a whisper.

“Rick made a deal with ‘em,” Merle says, his voice low and rough. There’s a harshness in his tone that tells you how much he hates saying it, “but instead of me takin’ you to him—‘cause Officer Friendly knows I’d bash his face in if he even thought of goin’ through with that—he is trading Michonne for a white flag.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and the air seems to thin around you. It wasn’t just a negotiation for territory or some agreement to coexist. It was a trade . You struggle to make sense of it, your mind reeling with the implications. Your legs feel weak, and you brace yourself against the table, gripping the edge until your knuckles turn white. The betrayal claws at your chest, making it hard to breathe. You see Michonne in your mind's eye, smiling over her shoulder as she effortlessly swung for walkers. Safe. Here. A part of the group.

“These people look at me like I’m the devil,” Merle continues, his voice bitter and thick with anger. His eyes lock onto yours, a raw fury burning in them. “But now they wanna do the same damn thing I did—snatch up someone and deliver ’em to The Governor. Except it was supposed to be you.”

A sharp, cold realization hits you—Rick knew the Governor wanted you, and the plan was supposed to be that you were going. But them just picking Michonne like both of you were pawns in this to be switched around and traded like bait? Your stomach churns violently, and your chest tightens with a mix of rage and hurt. It feels like you’ve been stripped bare, every layer of security you thought you had ripped away in an instant.

You stare at Merle, your breathing shallow, your voice breaking when you finally speak. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Merle’s eyes soften for a moment, a rare glimpse of something close to regret in them. “’Cause they don’t think you can handle it. But I know better, pretty girl. You’re tougher than they give you credit for.”

But his words barely register, drowned out by the storm inside you. The betrayal cuts deep, the knowledge that you were kept in the dark like some pawn in a twisted game. Your mind races with anger, confusion, and the fear of what could’ve happened if Rick hadn’t decided differently.

“Does Daryl know?” you whisper, eyes everywhere but the guns in front of you, like your trying to search them for a reason, for answers. Your heart clenches painfully at the thought. The idea of Daryl learning the truth, knowing that you were being bartered like a piece of property, tears at you. 

Merle’s gaze hardens, but he doesn’t flinch. “Yeah,” he admits, his tone rough. “He was there when Rick made the decision. He agreed to it—to switch you out for Michonne.”

The confirmation feels like a knife twisting in your chest. Daryl knew , and he didn’t come to you. Didn’t warn you. Your mind races, a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal flooding your senses. “He’s just gonna… let it happen?” you whisper, struggling to process the weight of it. 

Merle shakes his head, jaw clenched. “Ain’t like he was happy about it, but he figured it was the only way to keep you safe. What Rick says, goes. At least for him.”

Your heart twists painfully, torn between understanding and betrayal. You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it stays, heavy and unyielding. The man you trusted most chose not to tell you. Merle reaches up again, his eyes unexpectedly soft as he takes another lock of your hair between his rough fingers. You watch, feeling strangely vulnerable as he twists it slowly, like he’s caught in his own thoughts. There’s a strange intimacy in the moment, a quiet pause amid the chaos, as if both of you are seeking solace in the small, familiar gesture.

“Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to ya,” Merle murmurs, his voice surprisingly gentle, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. He lets the strand slip through his fingers before finally dropping his hand. His eyes linger on you for a beat longer, filled with a mix of regret and resolve.

Then, as if the moment was too much for him, he turns abruptly, his boots heavy against the floor as he walks away, leaving you alone with the raw, unspoken pain still clinging to the air.

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

Daryl

Daryl paces the courtyard, his steps agitated, mirroring the restless walkers beyond the fence. They shuffle aimlessly, their hollow gazes as distant as the gnawing unease in his gut. He watches them move with mindless determination, their rattling breaths a constant reminder of everything he’s grown to hate about this world. What he wouldn’t give for a stretch of quiet woods—where the only sound is leaves rustling underfoot, not the endless moaning of the dead.

But his mind is anything but quiet. Scenarios keep slamming into him, one after another—endless, dark possibilities of what’s coming for them. What kind of people they were becoming, handing off humans like property. The guilt and anger clawing in his gut, knowing it's wrong. His grip on the crossbow tightens, the familiar feel of it doing little to calm the storm inside him. His thoughts fixate on Y/N, spiraling with what-ifs that make his chest feel like it’s being squeezed by a vice. What if Rick hadn’t changed the plan? What if he kept with the Governor’s demands, and had taken her away under everyone’s nose?  The image of her back in the Governor’s grasp, vulnerable and trapped, flashes in his mind. He sees her face, the panic in her eyes, and it makes him feel sick.

He should’ve told her. Right when he heard the news, should’ve run to her to tell her what was going on. Torn between wanting to protect her and the crushing weight of his silence, he’d convinced himself it was for her own good, that keeping her in the dark was somehow protecting her. But now, the thought feels hollow—an excuse that only makes him feel more like a coward. He clenches his jaw, forcing the bile back down. He knows the risks she’s faced, the strength she’s shown, but the idea of her ever being within the Governor’s reach again makes him burn with a primal, helpless rage. He glances back toward the prison’s gate, as if expecting to see her appear and demand answers. Would she forgive him? The doubt gnaws at him, sharp and relentless. He can still hear Merle’s words echoing in his head from their conversation in the shadows with Rick—about being willing to bash the Governor’s face in before letting him get to Y/N again. Daryl knows he would do the same, would kill for her without hesitation. But would she understand why he kept her in the dark? Would she hate him for it?

He’s pacing harder now, unable to stop, unable to shake the sense that everything is spinning out of control. Every decision feels wrong, every instinct muddied by guilt and uncertainty. But one thing is clear—he can’t let this go on. He can’t keep her in the dark any longer. The next time he sees her, he’ll have to face it head-on, no matter how much it tears at him. Because if he loses her trust now, he knows he’ll never get it back. And that’s a loss he can’t afford—not when losing her entirely is his worst fear. 

Just as Daryl considers turning back to face Y/N, the prison doors swing open and Rick comes storming out.

“It’s off,” Rick says urgently, striding toward him. “We’ll take our chances.”

Daryl feels his shoulders slump with relief, the tension in his chest easing slightly. But something in Rick’s eyes catches his attention—an unsettled look, the way his shoulders remain tense, his gaze constantly darting across the yard.

“Not sayin’ it was the wrong call,” Daryl assures him, “but this is definitely the right one.” His eyes narrow as he takes in Rick’s agitated stance. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Merle and Michonne. They’re gone,” Rick says, breathless. He keeps looking toward the building and then back to the yard, as if expecting them to suddenly reappear.

Daryl doesn’t waste time. “Come on,” he says, already moving, Rick following on his heels as they rush inside.

They search all of Merle’s usual spots, but each one comes up empty. As they reach the common area gate, Rick stops, a mix of urgency and defeat in his voice. “I’m goin’ after him,”

“You can’t track for shit,” comes a voice from the other side of the room.

Daryl’s head snaps up, and his eyes lock onto Y/N’s steely gaze as she steps up to the door.

“Lookin’ for Merle, right?” she says, a bitter edge to her voice, “He’s already gone.” Her eyes burn with fury, flicking between Daryl and Rick, as if she’s holding back something she’s dying to say.

Daryl and Rick exchange a quick glance, the realization sinking in that Y/N knows more than she’s letting on. When she doesn’t elaborate, Rick speaks up. “Then all of us will go,” he suggests.

Daryl shakes his head, finally taking his questioning eyes off of her, “No, just me. I said I’d go and I’ll go,” when both of them are quiet for a beat he adds, “Plus, they’re gonna come back here and you need to be ready,” he looks down, “You’re family too,”

There’s a heavy silence before Y/N steps closer, her expression fierce. “I’m coming with you.”

Daryl looks up sharply, his heart jolting in a way he doesn’t fully understand. “Ain’t a good idea,” he mutters, trying to sound firm, but even he can hear the hesitation in his voice.

“You think I’m just gonna let you go alone after everything?” she shoots back, her voice low but full of resolve. Her eyes bore into his, a silent challenge. “Whatever happened to keeping each other in our sights?”

His grip on the crossbow tightens, the weight of her words hitting him hard. He hates the thought of her in danger, but he also knows he can’t bear the thought of being separated again. He swallows hard, his jaw tightening. “Ain’t tryin’ to lose you out there,” he says quietly, his voice rough around the edges. It’s the closest he can get to admitting the truth that’s gnawing at him: that he can’t do this without her.

“Then don’t lose me,” she replies simply, her tone softening, but her eyes still blazing with determination. There’s no room for argument, and he knows it.

Daryl sighs, but it’s more resignation than defeat. He nods, the tension easing just a bit. “Alright, then,” he finally says, a rough edge to his voice. “But stay close.”

It’s not an order, but a plea wrapped in practicality. She nods once, a small, determined smile tugging at her lips. And without another word, they turn toward the exit, Y/N grabbing a gun from the weapons piled on the table. They move together as if it’s the only way they’ve ever known how to survive.

[corendisguise]

Neighbor‘s Curiosity

Chapter 2

Scott stood frozen, his heart pounding as George’s piercing brown eyes locked onto his. The air between them was thick with tension, a mix of shock and something else—something electric that made Scott’s skin tingle.

George took a step closer, his voice low but firm. “I need my identity back,” he said, his words cutting through the silence like a knife. “I have an important appointment, and I can’t be late.”

Scott swallowed hard, his mind racing. He didn’t want to give back the mask—the power it gave him, the thrill of being someone else—but the thought of running around naked sent a even bigger chill down his spine. What am I supposed to do? he thought, panic rising in his chest.

“Fine,” Scott finally muttered, his voice trembling slightly. “But I’m not going out completely naked. We’ll… we’ll switch.”

A slow, sly smile spread across George’s face. “Agreed,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Let’s make this interesting.”

George moved quickly, his hands fumbling as they peeled off his chunky bodysuit. Scott removed his suit from his ankles. The room was filled with the sound of zippers and rustling latex, the scent of sweat and latex mingling in the air. Scott’s heart raced as he slid naked into George’s discarded chunky bodysuit, the material still warm and damp from the other man’s body. It clung to him like a second skin, the sensation both strange and intoxicating.

He hesitated for a moment before pulling on the mask of the older, bearded man. The inside of the mask was slick with sweat, the warmth of it sending a shiver down his spine. As he adjusted the mask over his face, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—a stranger staring back at him with heavy brows and sharp, weathered features.

This is insane, Scott thought, his breath quickening. But there was no denying the rush of excitement coursing through him, the thrill of stepping into yet another new persona.

Across the room, George was already slipping into Scott’s bodysuit and mask, his movements smooth and deliberate. Then both man dressed in each other clothes. When George turned around, Scott felt a jolt of surprise—despite knowing it was George beneath the disguise, seeing Mikes face staring back at him was unnerving.

“Well?” George said, his voice tinged with mischief. “How do I look?”

Scott opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, a loud knock at the door shattered the moment. Both men froze, their eyes darting toward the sound.

“Hey, Mike? You in there? Everything okay?” came Rick’s voice from the other side of the door.

Scott’s heart skipped a beat. Rick. The name echoed in his mind, bringing with it a flood of memories from their earlier encounter at the bar. His stomach churned with a mix of guilt and arousal, the conflicting emotions making it hard to think straight.

George shot Scott a glance, his lips curling into a wicked grin. Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the door and pulled it open, revealing Rick standing on the threshold. The younger man looked surprised, his dark eyes wide as they landed on George—or rather, the mask of Mike that George now wore.

“Mike?” Rick said, his voice tinged with confusion. “You alright? I heard some noise—”

Before Rick could finish, George reached out and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into the restroom with surprising strength. The door slammed shut behind them, and in one swift motion, George pressed his lips to Rick’s in a deep, searing kiss.

Rick let out a muffled sound of surprise, his body stiffening momentarily before melting into the kiss. His hands found their way to George’s shoulders, gripping tightly as the intensity between them grew.

Scott watched the scene unfold, his breath catching in his throat. The sight of George—wearing Mikes face—kissing Rick so passionately sent a wave of heat through him, stirring something primal deep within. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, even as his mind raced with questions and doubts.

As if sensing Scott’s gaze, George broke the kiss and turned to look at him, his eyes gleaming with hunger. “Join us,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Rick followed George’s gaze, his eyes landing on Scott—or rather, the older, bearded man he had become. Recognition flickered in Rick’s expression, but it was quickly overshadowed by desire. Without a word, he stepped toward Scott, his hand reaching out to trace the edge of the mask.

Scott’s heart pounded in his chest as Rick’s fingers brushed against his cheek, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. He could feel the warmth of Rick’s body radiating through the thin layer of the bodysuit, the proximity making his head spin.

“Who are you?” Rick whispered, his voice husky with need.

Scott opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. Instead, he leaned forward, capturing Rick’s lips in a tentative kiss. The moment their lips met, something inside Scott snapped, unleashing a flood of pent-up desire. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent and desperate as they lost themselves in each other.

George watched from the sidelines, a smirk playing on his lips. Then, without warning, he stepped forward, pressing his body against Scott’s back. His hands roamed over Scott’s chest, exploring the unfamiliar contours of the older man’s bodysuit.

“Careful,” George murmured, his breath hot against Scott’s ear. “You might lose yourself in this.”

Scott gasped as George’s hands slid lower, teasing and taunting as they moved. The sensation of having both men so close, their bodies pressing against him from all sides, was overwhelming. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of pleasure, every nerve in his body alight with fire.

Rick pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he glanced between Scott and George. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

George chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “Just go with it,” he said, leaning in to capture Rick’s lips once more.

And then all three of them were tangled together, their bodies moving in sync as they explored each other with reckless abandon. The restroom became a blur of hands and mouths, the air thick with the sounds of labored breathing and soft moans.

Scott’s mind was a whirlwind of sensation, his thoughts scattered as he surrendered to the moment. The weight of the mask and bodysuit seemed to fade away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered desire that consumed him. He couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the others began—all he knew was the relentless pull of pleasure, drawing him deeper and deeper into the abyss. Rick’s hands moved with a practiced ease, sliding down George’s chest before he dropped to his knees in front of him. His eyes locked with George’s as he unbuckled the older man’s belt and pulled open his fly, revealing the hard length beneath. Rick’s tongue darted out, licking his lips before he leaned forward and took George into his mouth with a low groan.

Scott watched, transfixed, as Rick began to bob his head, his movements slow and deliberate. The sound of wet heat filled the small space, mingling with George’s ragged breaths. Scott felt his own arousal spike, his cock straining against the sheath of the bodysuit he still wore. The material clung to him, damp with sweat, but it did nothing to dull the intensity of what he was seeing.

When Rick finally pulled back, George’s cock glistened with spit, and Rick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood, turning to Scott with a predatory grin. Without a word, he closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to cup Scott’s face. Their mouths crashed together in a heated kiss, and Scott moaned into it, his body trembling under Rick’s touch.

But then something unexpected happened. As Rick’s fingers brushed over Scott’s cheeks, the mask that had been sticked tightly to his skin began to shift. The sweat that had accumulated inside the latex made it slippery, and Scott could feel it slipping slightly, moving just enough to break the seal around his neck.

Rick noticed immediately. He pulled back, his eyes narrowing as he studied Scott’s face. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips. “Well, well,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Looks like someone else is playing dress-up.”

Scott’s heart pounded in his chest as Rick reached up, his fingers grazing the edge of Scott’s mask. He expected anger, confusion—anything but the calm amusement that flickered in Rick’s eyes. Instead of pulling the mask off, Rick tilted his head, his smile widening.

“You know,” Rick said, his voice dripping with mischief, “I always wondered about Mike. But I never got close enough to find out.” He paused, his gaze shifting to George, who was watching the exchange with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “And now here we are—three maskers in one room.”

Scott’s breath hitched as Rick’s hands moved to his own face. Before Scott could process what was happening, Rick peeled off his mask, revealing a strikingly young man underneath. His features were soft, almost boyish, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that spoke of experience beyond his years.

George let out a low whistle, stepping closer to examine Rick’s mask and true face. “Well, this just got a hell of a lot more interesting,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

Rick smirked, his confidence unshaken despite being exposed. He turned back to Scott, his hands returning to the edges of the older man’s mask. This time, he didn’t hesitate. With a quick tug to the sides and a pull, he lifted the mask free, revealing Scott’s flushed, sweaty face beneath.

For a moment, Scott felt exposed—vulnerable. But then Rick leaned in, his lips brushing against Scott’s ear. “You look good either way,” he whispered, his breath hot against Scott’s skin.

George stepped forward, his eyes gleaming as he looked between the two younger men. “So, this is promising?” he asked, his tone playful yet commanding.

Rick glanced at George, his smirk returning. “Now… i unfortunately have to go,” George said simply, gesturing toward the door. But let’s meet later in my house. We will have a lot of fun.

Rick raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. But after a beat, he chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough,” he said, grabbing the discarded mask of Scott from where it lay on the sink. He slipped it on, the transformation instantaneous. George was immediately hard and understood the gesture clearly. George then turned and left the restroom, leaving Scott and Rick alone.

Rick wasted no time. Withe the older man mask on he pressed Scott against the wall, his hands roaming over the chunky bodysuit that still clung to Scott’s body. “Guess we don’t need these anymore,” he murmured, his fingers finding the zipper and pulling it down in one smooth motion.

The bodysuit fell away, leaving Scott bare underneath. Rick’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of Scott’s naked form, his gaze lingering on the hard length between his legs. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Scott’s collarbone as he whispered, “Let’s see how far we can take this.” With this Rick grabbed his former face and pulled it apart with both hands inside. He then pulled the mask over Scott’s face and adjusted it easily because of tons of sweat inside it.

Scott’s breath came in short, shallow gasps as Rick’s hands explored his body, mapping every inch of him. The younger man’s touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through Scott’s veins. When Rick’s mouth found his nipple, sucking and biting gently, Scott threw his head back, a moan escaping his lips.

But Rick wasn’t done. He dropped to his knees again, his hands gripping Scott’s hips as he leaned forward and took Scott’s cock into his mouth. The beard was tickling his skin. The sensation was overwhelming, and Scott’s knees nearly buckled as Rick worked him with expert precision.

Scott’s fingers tangled in the hair of Rick’s mask, holding him in place as he thrust shallowly into the warmth of Rick’s mouth. The mask slightly slipping on his face. Scott’s mind was a haze of pleasure, the world outside the restroom fading into insignificance. All that mattered was the feel of Rick’s lips around him, the way the masked man’s tongue danced along his length.

When Rick finally pulled back, Scott was panting, his body trembling with need. Rick stood, his own arousal evident as he pressed himself against Scott. “Think you can handle more?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

Scott nodded, unable to form words. Rick grinned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small packet of lube. He tore it open with his teeth, coating his fingers before pressing one against Scott’s tight entrance.

The initial intrusion was met with resistance, but Scott relaxed quickly, allowing Rick to push inside. The stretch was intense, but the pleasure that followed was worth it. By the time Rick added a second finger, Scott was writhing, his cock leaking precum.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Rick muttered, his fingers working Scott open with a practiced rhythm. When he was sure Scott was ready, he withdrew his fingers, lead Scott back onto the toilet and then lining himself up with Scott’s entrance.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything seemed to pause. Then, with a single thrust, Rick pushed inside, filling Scott (masked with Rick’s face) completely. The gasp that escaped Scott’s lips was swallowed by Rick’s mouth as he kissed him deeply, their bodies moving together in a desperate rhythm.

The restroom echoed with the sounds of their passion—the slap of skin against skin, the ragged breaths, the low murmurs of encouragement. Scott wrapped his legs around Rick’s waist, pulling him deeper as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment.

As their pace quickened, Scott’s pleasure built to a crescendo, his release crashing over him with an intensity that left him breathless. Rick followed soon after, his movements stuttering as he spilled inside Scott.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed together, hearts racing in unison. Finally, Rick pulled back, his breathing heavy as he looked down at Scott. “We should do this again together with George,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Scott laughed, the sound breathless and giddy. “Let’s keep the identity switch and see if George finds out.“

Rick grinned……..

to be continued…