#slender rick

[x1633chefrick]

Wanna repost this comic collaboration with @kreidxpriz (every odd number page belongs to him) Because there're some problems with my main blog, these posts can't be retrieved in the tag, so I repost them in this blog.))

[crusheswhimsandfancies]

Rick talking with his hands😍

Justin Hawkins rides again

[dollfacefantasy]

ADD TO THE COLLECTION ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: rick finds an old halloween mask out on a supply run. he brings it back to you, and the two of you put it to good use

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, mask kink, praise/degradation, cnc sorta

a/n: yes i wrote another ghostface mask kink fic. idc idc. you can pry that idea from my cold dead hands. every single man i simp for will have one if it's the last thing i do <3

kinktober slot: day 4 - mask kink

"Ew. You know that thing probably has like a billion diseases, right?" you say, a wide smile spreading across your face as you look at the raggedy Halloween mask in your boyfriend's hand.

The slender, pale face stares back at you with its motionless expression of horror. You hadn't seen one of them in a long time. Certainly not since the world went to shit.

"A billion? I don't know about that. Maybe a million," he teases.

Rick enters the room and approaches where you sit on the bed, wanting to show off his find from the supply run a bit more.

"Don't bring it too close to me. I don't wanna catch something," you say with a hand raised in defense.

"So dramatic," he mocks, "I'm not gonna put it on you."

The wooden floor creaks below his boots as he steps to the edge of the mattress. He sits down, the foamy surface dipping with the addition of his weight.

You can't help leaning forward a little bit out of curiosity. Scooting closer to his side, you look between his face and the mask.

"Were you guys raiding a Spirit Halloween or something?" you ask, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He chuckles. His hands rotate the mask between them. It actually isn't in horrible condition. Maybe a little dusty, but there aren't any huge stains or tears. Visions of him wearing it rise to the front of your mind. You could imagine his head turning, the hollow black eyes following you as he watched your figure move about. The thin fabric fanning out over his shoulders also comes up. Your favorite though is the thought of how it would look above you while he thrusts in and out of you.

Shaking those images out of your head, you refocus when he answers your question.

"No, nothin' like that. I just saw it and thought of you," he tells you, turning his head and pecking your cheek, "I remembered you tellin' me how you used to love those movies."

You almost visibly swoon. "That's so sweet. Slasher movies make you think of me," you coo, "How did I get so lucky?"

Your arms slide up and drape around his neck, bringing you closer so you can nuzzle the side of his face. His skin scratches at you a little bit. The prickle of stubble was rising again.

He returns your affection and pushes the mask aside in favor of pulling you into his lap. The two of you melt into each other and then back onto the bed. One of the perks of living in Alexandria now was not having to wait until everyone fell asleep for the night to go at it.

Rick could be so soft for you. Ever since the two of you met, he seemed so naturally protective. He always lets you hold his hand. Your safety was his top priority along with that of his kids. Before the world went bad, you'd bet he was the kind of guy to hold the door open on dates and call women "miss" or "ma'am."

You're pretty sure that's why you want to see him in that mask so bad.

You knew Rick had another side to him. Something beneath the mask of being the good guy. You'd seen it before a few times. The nights where he ended up soaked in someone else's blood, the sticky crimson liquid coating his facial hair, staining his clothes.

A week after he first found that mask, he comes to your room at night wearing one of the pieces of clothing that's been marred with someone else's insides.

The mask over his face has been cleaned. He clearly washed away the dust and any other sign of mileage on the thing. The ivory plastic front shines without a spot of grime while the black fabric draped atop his hair sits there, dark as the night sky outside.

It's a sharp contrast to the white t-shirt he has on. The cloth pours down his neck and over his shoulder onto the light garment. But the abdomen of this top isn't as pristine as the collar. Blood speckles across the snowy threading, the pattern spatters in a way that makes it look like one of those ink blot tests. If you were the one being questioned, you'd say it looks sort of like a tree.

He stands there against the frame of the doorway in silence, waiting to be noticed. You had been cleaning your boots. When you finally finish, you rise from your spot on the edge of the bed and tuck them in their normal spot against the wall. Sighing, you lean back and prepare to finally have nothing left on your to-do list.

But you feel the other presence in the room. You catch him in your peripheral vision, and a gasp tears through you. Your heart springs from a calm resting beat to erratic thrashing against your ribcage. Thoughts melt from your head while breaths grow spikes in your lungs.

Once you turn your head fully and give your brain a second to register that it's only him, you start to calm down. You let out a deep sigh and put your hand across your chest.

"God, don't do that," you huff, "You scared me."

He doesn't respond.

You continue to catch your breath before looking over at him again. Your eyes scan up and down his figure. He leans against the wall so casually. His arms cross over his chest while his ankles hook one on top of the other below. Even though you can't see his gaze, you can feel the intensity of his pupils on you.

"You're lucky I didn't have my gun on me," you tell him and narrow your eyes.

Again, you get no words out of him. But this time he does push off the edge of the entryway and step forward. He swings the door shut behind him and continues to stare you down.

It's weird. Having him just stand there, digs a pit in the bottom of your belly. For a split second, your mind floats the possibility that this isn't him. The paranoid sector of your head poses questions like what if this was someone else who just found the mask? What if they just looked like Rick?

But then his arms drop from his chest and you see the silver of his watch glimmer in the pale moonlight. 

It doesn't kill the tingling in your nerves any; rather, it transforms the sensation. It's a different kind of strange seeing Rick act like this. It wasn't the version of him that came out for a true threat.  He was never so silent when that was the case. In moments of desperation, he became feral - eyes darting around, limbs taut with the preparedness to strike. But that's when you realize this isn't a moment of desperation. He's the one in control. He's the threat in this situation.

"You're not even gonna try to run, little girl?" he asks, his voice coming out in that familiar drawl but with a little edge to it.

Your spine lights up like a fuse. Excitement seeps into your bones. Everything feels jittery. You don't know what to do or say. In this moment, you just want.

"You're in the way. I don't have anywhere to run," you say. Your voice waivers almost as if you naturally fall into the role of the helpless victim.

It's weird hearing yourself like that. In the world you lived in, you never wanted to sound like that. Showing weakness meant death. And hearing it from someone you loved meant their time was coming to end. Being able to express it now though, it felt different. You weren't sure how to articulate it, but that could be due to the fact that you'd never been so turned on before in your life.

He approaches you further. The wooden floor boards creak beneath his slow steps. You try to back up but your knees hit the mattress.

"No runnin'? You're gonna make this too easy for me," he chuckles, "Put up a little fight."

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip. He leans in closer to you, reaching up to drag his fingers down your cheek. You try to lean back but end up having to sit on the bed and scoot away on the mattress to create some distance.

He just laughs and grabs your ankle, preventing you from getting too far. You try wriggling your leg a little bit, but he tightens his grip and grabs the other one.

"Tsk, tsk. Pathetic," he taunts, "You're just gonna let me take what I want?"

You try kicking a little harder, but it's of no use. Each jerk of your leg goes to waste. Nothing changes. There would be no difference if you didn't move at all and just made what he said true.

"So cute," he mocks, "Just tirin' yourself out for me."

"It's not fair," you whine. You roll yourself onto your belly and try to drag yourself away by grabbing the edge of the bed. He doesn't let you though. Even though Rick was lean, he didn't lack strength. That coupled with his training as a pre-apocalypse police officer meant he knew how to restrain people. You whimper and buck your hips to try and create some momentum to get away, but it's all of no use.

"You cheated. You didn't give me a chance to run," you continue to pout before repeating your prior sentiment, "Not fair."

He laughs and whips you around onto your back again. This time he leans forward and tugs your hips harshly, dragging you over the collection of blankets so that your ass is flush against his semi-hard bulge.

"Who said I have to play fair, princess?" he asks, "Weak little thing like you wouldn't have made it far anyways."

Another whine bubbles from your lips as you squirm. He looms over you, keeping you accessible to him with the weight of his body. As he closes in, your breathing becomes heavier. The white ghostface stops inches away from the tip of your nose. You stare into the expressionless eyes of the match while your cunt throbs against the heat of his pelvis.

"You're lucky I caught you here. Spares you the embarrassment of getting dragged back, kicking and screaming. Or even worse, me pounding you into the grass out there where anyone could see," he breathes.

You shudder at the images his words create in your head.

He can feel the tremble of your limbs, and he pushes the mask up slightly to bare his lips. For a second, you think he's going in for a kiss. And in a way, that's true. But it's not on your mouth. Instead, he ducks down to your throat. He attacks it with fervor much more intense than what you usually felt from him.

These kisses are hot and open-mouthed. The tip of his tongue tickles your pulsing skin. His lips feather against it while his teeth nip and tug. All you can do is melt under it. You try to keep in character and put up a bit of resistance, but it's not a strong performance.

His fingers hook over the top of your little sleep shorts and panties and pull them down to your mid-thigh. That was all the room he needed. His hand not clutching one of your biceps slides down between your thighs. He can feel the slick on his fingers in seconds, and he huffs out a laugh.

"Oh, you're a bad girl, aren't you? The slightest bit of attention, and you're dripping. I didn't even have to do anything," he says.

After those words hit your ears, he pulls back. He tugs your shorts all the way off to free your legs before he shoves his jeans down far enough that his length can spring free. He's almost fully hard. The sight of your slippery cunt makes it easier to take it from almost to solid.

He strokes it and watches you. It's obvious how ready you are, but he can't help but want to draw it out a little more.

"Take off your top," he commands.

Your breath hitches, and you swear you feel your heart stutter. Of course, he'd seen you naked before, but it felt new here. This wasn't Rick's cool blue eyes gazing down at you with love. It was the dark, empty patches of painted plastic.

Nevertheless, your hands venture down and peel your shirt from your body. Once it's gone, your tits are left exposed to his view. He doesn't touch them, and you can't see if he stares directly at them, but it feels like he does.

He pumps his cock a little faster. A small groan rumbles from his mouth.

"I don't even have to say it twice. You didn't even need to see my face to listen. I either have you so well-trained, or you're just the most natural slut out there, babydoll. Just waiting for orders to follow like a little puppy," he rasps.

He pushes forward and slides his leaky tip against your folds. A small whine sneaks out of you at the pressure on your clit. The head nudges it before gliding down toward your entrance again where it pops in.

You both hiss at the feel. On his part, you're already so warm and tight. For you, it's the mild stretch combined with the satisfaction of having something inside you. Either way, it's just a taste of what's to come.

He sinks in more, guiding the rest of his shaft into your pussy. Whimpering, you arch your back off the bed the tiniest bit. His hand lands on your tummy and pushes you down again though. He forces you to take it all and then rocks his hips back and slams forward again.

"So sensitive," he teases.

His hands curl around your hips before he starts thrusting. Like the earlier kisses, his pelvis snaps against you with more force than usual. Your eyes roll back from the bouncing rhythm while your fingers clutch the linens beneath you.

"Poor baby. You never had any fight in you to begin with," he teases, "You give in so easily."

"It- it's not my fault," you whimper. More moans seep out of you. It feels like every slap of skin on skin knocks a new noise from you.

"Oh yes it is," he grunts, "You didn't even try because you want this. You just wanna be filled up. Don't even care who's doing it."

As he says that, your hazy eyes look up at the mask. "Do too..." you pout.

Your walls squeeze around him tight at the sight of the haunted face watching you. It bobs a little with his motions as well, shaken by the force of them.

He laughs at you from beneath the mask and speeds up a little. You clench around him in tandem with your toes curling. He leans in and bends you further in half on the mattress.

"Ok sure, sweetheart. That's why you didn't even need to see my face before I slid my dick inside you," he breathes.

Your little clit throbs at the words. As if he can sense it, one of his hands rises to thumb at the nub. Your hips buck in response, eager for more. Deep, whiny sighs flood into the air from you. He can't get enough.

"That's right, keep squeezin' me, darlin'" he says, arousal infecting his tone now too.

You nod like you have a real say. The way he was battering your pleasure spots and swiping at your clit had you tightening up involuntarily. He still moans with the feeling though. His head tilts back. You can hear his panting getting louder below that mask.

A few strokes later, he reaches up and yanks it off, dropping it to the floor next to his boot. His hair hangs damp against his forehead while his cheeks are a little flushed from the heat. None of this stops him from fucking into you though. It's as if he can't stop. The chase for release captures him on a deeper level.

Even without the help of ghostface, his stare is intense. His pupils glare into you as he provides you with more pleasure than you know what to do with.

"You think you're gonna cum for me? Gush all over my cock?" he croons mockingly.

You nod. Your arm weakly flies up so you can grab at his wrist. "Need it, Rick," you whine.

He chuckles, a small smirk teasing his lips. "You can have it then. Let it go for me," he says.

Your hips buck in time with the next handful of whimpers that leave your lips. The climb to the top feels so fucking good. Your core sizzles up until it reaches a fever pitch and you explode into white hot pleasure. A low, satisfied hum reverberates from you as your eyelashes dust your cheeks.

He fucks you through the feeling, one hand on your throat, the other down at your clit, swirling around the small nub a few times to give you the extra boost. It makes you nice and tight around his dick. Your walls squeeze like a vise. He has no choice but to let go.

As desperate as he is to fuck it deep inside of you, he stops himself at the last second and pulls out. He grabs his cock at light speed before that feeling can vanish and pumps it at the same rhythm he'd been thrusting into you.

Warm, milky ropes of cum shoot out onto your belly. The splatter across your skin, glimmering in the cool light of the night. You force your eyes open when you hear his deep moan. You're almost certain you've never seen anything as beautiful as Rick's face when he releases. His brows furrow while his jaw relaxes. He parts his lips in a small o. You watch with droopy eyes, the haze of lust still not totally gone yet.

When he's finished, he stares down at you in a similar fashion. His hand cups the back of your neck so he can bring you up to give you a kiss before he goes and grabs a towel. The bloody shirt he'd been wearing is gone when he returns. He cleans the spend off your belly and then crawls back into bed with you.

You snuggle up to him, ready to close your eyes and conk out. But then you think of something.

"I knew it was you before you took off the mask," you say. The flesh of your cheek smooshes against this chest.

He looks down at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Cause your watch," you say proudly, as if you'd discovered some great clue.

The information registers but then his lips break into a grin. "Hmm, smart girl. I'll have to keep that in mind if I ever put on the mask for something secretive," he teases before yawning and tugging you closer to his side.

"Mhm, cause I'd figure you out right away," you murmur.

"I'm sure," he agrees, pressing a few kisses to your head. "Get some sleep, baby."

[voitier]

Blame Morpheus for your sins - 03

𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽... you and jungkook had been attached by the hip since you were little toddlers learning how to live in your own bodies, which led you two to spend most (if not all) of your life together. one weird dream makes your whole view about your best friend change. how will you live with that?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈... [mini-series!] friends to lovers, college au, jungkook is whipped for reader but she's oblivious to it all, descriptions of wet dreams, second-hand embarrassment, learning how to deal with new found feelings, sex and all the good stuff, HEA.

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔... some more embarrassment, explicit language, a tinge of angst (I'm sorry I hate it too but it was needed), reader and jk are fucking infuriating, jimin is the only sane one (kinda).

▸ 𝓔𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮

▸ 𝔀.𝓬. : 2.3𝓴

previous / next / index

When you were twelve, Jungkook went through a phase in which he was obsessed with the Percy Jackson’s films. No matter the occasion, he had to do a rewatch of all of them. Even the night of your own birthday he had forced you to watch all the films, again. So, of course, for his twelfth birthday you decided to gift him the first book of Rick Riordan’s series, Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief. You had seen it in his eyes the exact moment it came up — the gratitude lighting his eyes, while restless slim fingers ripped open the wrapping paper from the gift, revealing little by little the blue cover of the book. He had stared at it for a while, caressing delicately its spine, letting the pages flow freely under his fingertips, the smell of the freshly printed pages filling his nostrils. He had devoured the whole book in just a couple days, drinking in the words that spilled from the pages the same way a dehydrated man in the desert drinks from a puddle. He died a little on the inside when he had finished it, and for a couple days he had been extremely moody and snappy with anybody who even so dared to talk to him. His mom had taken two polaroid pictures of you two the night of his birthday, one for her to store and one for you, and since then you had kept it on your room’s wall to hang with all the other pictures.

That morning, when sleep finally seemed to leave your system and the caffeine kicked in, you couldn’t help but stare at that same wall. The pictures reflected back the numerous occasions and people who were and are part of your life, and in more than a half Jungkook is in them. The picture of his twelfth birthday hung right in the middle, and you couldn’t help but think of all the years spent together, all the adventures, the ups and downs, the fights and the made-ups, your entire life spent side by side, viewing him for what he was — you best friend. So, what changed now?

“Earth calls y/n, I repeat: Earth calls y/n. Are you there?” you shook startled as Jimin waved a hand in front of your eyes, pulling you out of the spell that had you staring at the back of a boy’s head for the past ten minutes. The professor was still rambling about something you couldn’t care less about, and half of the students in the lecture hall looked like they were fighting sleep with all their might. 

You sighed, whispering a small apology. “Sorry, didn’t sleep well. Were you saying something?” Jimin shook his head no, tapping his notebook with his pen before saying “I’ll pass you the notes later, try not to bore holes in people’s heads in the meantime,” then went back to listen to the professor’s words, scribbling down messy notes here and there. You hummed a little “mhm,” opting to zone out while staring at Jimin’s hand as he wrote on the blank pages, deciding that it would be better than staring at a complete stranger anyway. Slowly, your mind slipped to the back of your thoughts again, and surely here it was — Jimin’s hand morphing into Jungkook’s slender one, the black ink on his skin dancing under the blinding lights, flexing and relaxing as Jungkook’s knuckles tightened and released their grip on the pen. You could almost feel it, the way they would wrap so delicately yet firmly around your neck, squeezing just right until you could do nothing more than whimper Jungkook’s name, overtaken by the sudden need to feel him everywhere, to have him claim you his own. 

Gguk 🐇(29 new messages)

A series of vibrations from your pocket grounded you back to reality, your cheeks flushing crimson red while you pulled your phone out. Your shoulders slumped as you read more and more messages coming from your best friend, but you couldn’t help but ignore them, guilt eating you alive. You weren’t supposed to feel this way for him, it was anything but best friend-esque, how could you even try to face him when your mind decided to play every trick in its possession to let you cave in?

⤷ why r u ignoring me

⤷ y/n

⤷ petal

⤷ c’mon, i know you’re reading

⤷ fuck, please petal, talk to me    

You 

A little sigh left your lungs at the sight of Jungkook being so desperate to get the hang of you, more guilt clawing up your throat as the realization that ignoring him would just make things worse hit you. With trembling fingers you unlocked your phone, typing and deleting more than once as your fingers hit all the wrong letters of the keyboard.

Well, at least it wasn’t a complete lie. Right? Right. Yet, if it really was the complete truth, why did you have no problem in the past to leave everything behind and get out of the class just to hear his voice for a few minutes? 

⤷ sorry, i’ll call u later, i’m in class

You pocketed your phone again before you could have any second thoughts, gasping as you were met with Jimin’s judgemental stare, his eyebrow raising in a “are you serious?” matter. Fuck, did he read everything? Your friend leaned in, stopping beside your ear before whispering “you’ll explain what’s happening during lunch, and I’m not buying your excuses, just so you know”. Perfect, you were fucked. 

A few hours had passed since Jimin’s warning, and here you were, in the packed food hall, looking for a place to sit with your trays. Luckily, your friend had found the perfect place to talk, hidden in a corner and secluded to curious ears. You moved towards the table, setting down your trays and sitting right after, draping your coats to the back of your chairs. “So, spill the tea, what’s going on between you and Jungkook?” he asked as soon as his bum hit the uncomfortable plastic chair, poking the plastic straw into his fruit juice box. Jimin was always like this, straight to the point, no bullshit allowed. And if you didn’t wanna talk, he had his ways to find out what he wanted nevertheless, so there was really no point in lying or denying. 

You slumped back on the chair, looking around wearily as the line to fill the trays got longer, and the chatter of students all around you got louder and louder. You found yourself looking for him, even though you knew he wasn’t there that day, your heart jumping in your throat each time a boy who even so slightly looked like him caught your eyes. A sharp kick was delivered to your shin, making you wince in pain and grab it as you cried out “ow, ow” like a hurt puppy. Jimin shrugged at your glare, totally unbothered by it, and began picking his rice up with his chopsticks. “So? I’m waiting”.

You huffed, nervously shifting in your chair. Who would be able to tell their friend “oh yeah, i dreamed of my best friend of more than twenty years fucking me”? Long answer short: Jimin. He would totally drop the bomb on top of your head with no disclaimer at all, out of the blue. Unfortunately — or fortunately, depending on the point of view — you could not just admit something so embarrassing and wrong out loud like nothing’s wrong with it. 

So, what was the next most obvious thing to do? Text him, of course. You picked up your phone, typing in Jimin’s chat hurriedly before slamming the device face down on the table. His eyebrow shot up almost comically when the ping of the notification sounded between you two; nevertheless he put down his chopsticks and, with a big sigh, unlocked his phone.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, nervously looking around to distract yourself from the shame eating your guts. Jimin’s silence didn’t help to alleviate the situation, not even a bit.  

One beat.

Another beat.

Thump, thump, thump.

Fuck, what was taking him so long? 

You turned around just in time to see your friend explode in one of the most heartfelt laughter you’ve ever seen come out of his lungs, clutching his chest in pain, folding on the table while having trouble breathing through the hysteric fit of laughs, face beet red and tears threatening to spill at any given moment. He slapped a hand on the table, loud enough to attract unwanted attention from pretty much half of the cafeteria, definitely not helping your case at all. You prayed that a hole would magically appear under your chair, swallowing you whole and pulling you out of misery, cause that’s what it was, pure and unfiltered misery. 

“Jimin- fuck, get your shit together, dude!” you whisper-yelled at him, yanking him up by his hair. Your friend wheezed, a sound that resembles a dying cat coming from the depth of his throat. “Oh fuck— oh shit—” he cried out, wiping away his tears before folding in half again as more laughter occurred, mouth hanging open in a silent, oxygen-lacking, laughing fit. You grumbled annoyed, half-hiding your face from other students with your hair and hand before picking at your food, deciding that if you acted like you couldn’t see him then maybe, just maybe he would disappear, the exact same way you used to think that Jungkook couldn’t find you if you couldn’t see him while playing hide and seek when you two were little kids. Needless to say, you always lost the game.

“Oh my god I can’t believe this,” moaned Jimin as more air reached his lungs and brain, slowly but surely grounding him back to reality. “How big was his dick?”

“Jimin!” you yelled, hitting his head with your water bottle. “I can’t fucking believe you,” grumbling, you slumped back in your chair, huffing and puffing at your friend’s constant and evil teasing. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop. So? It’s a dream, I don’t understand why you’re ignoring him.”

“Cause it’s fucking embarrassing!” you exclaim, “I can’t look at him without thinking… things.”

Jimin hummed, sitting straight against his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking at you up and down with a critical eye. “What?”

“Nothing, just… that’s interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“This— oh, look! He’s calling.”

Your eyes snapped back to your phone, picking it up to check the ID caller. Jimin was right, it was, indeed, your best friend. Fuck. You stared at the screen of your phone for what seemed like an eternity before Jimin nudged you with a gentle kick, mouthing a silent “c’mon” of encouragement. You took a big breath in, trying to stabilise your nerves while picking up the call with shaky hands. Your phone grazed your ear, the cold feeling aggravating the already cold shivers running down your body.

“Hello?” you called, closing your eyes as Jungkook’s voice warmed your heart. “Petal,” breathed your best friend, the sound of sheets ruffling echoing in the device pushed to your ear. “Why are you ignoring me?” he whined, dragging the last word like a little kid throwing a tantrum. Your chest tightened at his whiny tone, well aware that you were torturing him with your silence. “I’m— I’m not, I’m just at lecture—”

“Quit with this lecture shit, you couldn’t care less about it,” his sharp tone cut through your sentence, immediately shutting you up. “Just tell me what’s wrong, please.”

You sighed, the need to hug him and apologise profusely slowly taking over the feeling of guilt that had been eating you alive the past day, yet you still couldn’t take yourself to act normal. “Everything’s fine, Kook,” you whispered, a tinge of sadness seeping in your words at his disappointed whine. “I’ll call you later.”

“Promise.”

“Pinky promise.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had muttered Jimin as soon as the call ended, but he didn’t push further. You had thanked him mentally, truly appreciating the immediate change of topic.

Eventually, the day ended: you and Jimin parted ways, you headed home, ate dinner, showered, and the dreaded time to finally call Jungkook came. You would be a terrible liar if you said that you didn’t think of faking falling asleep just to push away furthermore the inevitable, but quickly you had decided that it wasn’t fair nor polite to treat him this way.

So, you called. The phone rang two times before he picked up, the relief palpable in his voice. “Petal! I thought you wouldn’t call”. You gnawed your bottom lip nervously, painfully aware of the fact that Jungkook knew you were avoiding him at all costs, a single sentence swarming through your mind: you had fucked up. 

“Sorry, took longer than usual in the shower. How are you doing?”

Silence took over the call for a good couple seconds before Jungkook’s dumbfounded voice sounded again. “Seriously? That’s how you’re going to go at it? Completely ignoring the fact that you’ve been ignoring me the whole day for god knows what reasons?”

“Kook, I—”

“No, now you’ll listen, cause I’ve been here the whole damn day wondering where you were, if you were fine, if I’ve done anything wrong, if you hate me. I don’t want any cheap excuses, I want the truth.”

“I don’t— I don’t hate you, Kook,” you whispered, voice shaky in the attempts to hold back your tears. 

“Then tell me what’s wrong,” he replied, trying his best to hide the exasperation in his tone. “I— I can’t, please, Kook,” you cried, sniffling softly while wiping away your tears with your sleeves. Jungkook sighed, but he didn’t mutter another word. Then, the line fell silent.

Beep, beep, beep.

He had hung up.

© voitier 2025

⭒a.n: originally this chapter was supposed to continue with way more angst, but my heart can take just the right amount of it before it destroys my mood, so expect more angst in the upcoming chapters!

taglist: @mia7732 @tastykookoonut @koooobi @hoseokteardrop @bhonbhon @rpwprpwprpwprw @jeeykey @junecat18 @annyeongbitch7 @lilacstellar

[5xlwriter]

Feedist Kinktober: Ex-Model

Part of a series of one-shots in response to @fatguarddog’s Feedist Kinktober 2024 prompts. I see this as a double response to the prompts Runway Ready and Wardrobe Woe.

“Thanks for your time, Brett,” I said, feigning a smile as I looked up from my clipboard. “We’ll call you!”

The muscle-bound hunk nodded cockily and pulled back on his stringy gymrat vest, giving us one last glimpse at his abs in the process before turning and leaving the audition room. His firm glutes shifted in his shorts as he vanished through the doors. I sighed.

Of course, there was no denying that Brett was absolutely gorgeous. He knew it, I knew it, anyone who saw him knew it. And while I might be tempted to call him up for a hookup, there was no way he was getting a callback for this show. He just didn’t have the right look.

The designer, Cherish Misère, was dark, edgy and honestly, kinda goth. There’s a lot that can be achieved with makeup and styling, of course, but nobody’s going to buy that with a jock like Brett. We were looking for skinny guys, with longer slender limbs and angled faces that we could make gaunt with contouring. Brett just didn’t fit the bill - and neither did many of the other hopefuls I’d seen that day. Ugh, Cherish was gonna kill me.

I huffed another deep sigh as I flipped the page on my clipboard, and then was stopped in my tracks at the photo attached to the next profile. That curly brown hair, those sharp, boyish features, those dark, arresting eyes… Tristan!

What a godsend! Tristan was absolutely perfect for the show. Cherish would eat him up, and all the clothes would fit like they were made for him. He and I had been students together. We’d studied Media & Communications and had gotten along well, but drifted in the couple of years since we graduated. He’d always modelled to raise funds when we were at uni, seeming to never need to hold down a real job as a result - but the last I heard, he was now skyrocketing up the corporate ladder, while I was sat here auditioning himbos for D-rate shows at the Fashion Week Fringe. It’s the sort of thing that would usually fill me with so much embarrassment that I’d find an escape route - we gays always compare ourselves to our peers - but in this instance, I didn’t care. I was just glad to finally have found some actual talent! The day was not a complete waste after all.

“Bring in the next one,” I called to my assistant and tried to make myself look as relaxed as possible. I was going to feign surprise, like I’d been caught off-guard. I needed to look busy and important. I sat up straight, eyes fixed on my clipboard until I heard someone shuffle in front of me.

“Hey, Rick!” He announced. His voice was just as I remembered it, but… maybe a touch deeper?

I looked up, ready to burst into a big smile and announce what a pleasant surprise it was to see him again. But then, I really was caught off-guard. My thoughts ground to a halt, leaving an uncomfortable pause as my brain scrambled to register what was going on.

My assistant intervened. “Um, Rick, this is…”

“—Tristan!” I interjected, finally managing the smile I’d been preparing, though I’m not sure how convincing it came off. “What a surprise!”

The surprise was that Tristan was fat. OK, that was maybe a little dramatic - he wasn’t fat fat. But I guessed him to be at least 50 or 60lbs heavier than the 135lbs he listed on his modelling profile - which made him gay fat. I couldn’t believe it!

I was so conflicted. On the one hand, I was a little ashamed to admit that part of me loved seeing perfect Tristan let himself go like this. He had always been nothing but kind to me, so it was completely mean-spirited of me, but I couldn’t help being jealous of all his achievements. It was nice to finally have one up on him, having maintained my own figure - heck, maybe even improved it? - since graduating.

On the other hand, there was no way I could cast Tristan with him looking like this. I could tell just by looking at him that it would take a small miracle to squeeze him into anything Cherish made, which meant I’d just lost my star model just as quickly as I thought I’d found him.

That, I had to worry about later. For now I had to finish this encounter with my old friend, let him down without hurting his feelings, and maybe find out what had caused him to blow up. Maybe he was depressed?

He didn’t look depressed. He was smiling that famously enchanting smile of his, which now showed off the beginnings of a double chin. I made my way over to give him a hug.

“Heh, I thought you didn’t recognise me!” He said as he wrapped his softer arms around me. He was squishy all over.

“Of course I recognise you,” I said, trying to brush it off. “It’s so good to see all of you— I mean, to see you, it’s so good to see you…” Fuck.

Tristan didn’t seem to notice - or if he did, then he didn’t seem to mind. I was happy with either. We pressed on with the pleasantries, Tristan telling me about his latest promotion whilst I did my best to make my own job sound interesting. In truth, it was great catching up with him… Tristan was just so charming, and even with his fuller figure he just exuded a confidence and charisma that was unlike anyone I’d ever met… perhaps even more so then I remembered? He was definitely flirty, and somehow I found myself flirting back despite him no longer being my type.

I wasn’t quite sure how it had happened… Maybe it was witchcraft. Maybe I felt sorry for him. Or maybe it was just that trademark smile that he kept flashing me, undampened by his rounder face…

“I think you’d be a great fit!” I said, the words leaving my mouth without my permission. My brain protested but my lips kept moving. “We’ll see you Monday for the fittings, so we can get things taken in if we need to.” What the fuck was I saying? What was I doing?

As Tristan left with his paperwork, I caught the confused look on my assistant’s face and buried my head in my hands. Cherish was going to fucking kill me.

***

Monday came around fast. In that time, I’d managed to assemble a motley crew of gangly young men to model Cherish’s collection. None of them had walked a runway in their lives, nor did they really have the face card needed for a career in modelling, but they were the best I could rustle up with Fashion Week on the horizon.

We’d started the morning with runway rehearsals and trying to get some charisma out of these boys was like getting blood from a stone. I was relieved that Tristan hadn’t shown up. I figured he had come to the realisation that he quite literally wasn’t a good fit for this, and had decided to silently slink away, saving me a difficult conversation. Now all we had to do was avoid each other for the rest of our lives!

But no, it was never going to be that easy. Tristan arrived late, commanding attention as soon as he entered the studio, smiling and greeting his fellow models as he finished off the remainder of a large smoked salmon bagel loaded with cream cheese. Now there was someone with charisma. He didn’t even try. Nor did he try to excuse his tardiness. “We both know I don’t need practice at this!” he laughed warmly when we had a quiet moment together.

And he was right. He stomped the runway like a pro, showing each of the confused wannabes how it was done. He was the elephant in the room; he didn’t belong; and yet, he was putting them all to shame. I watched bitterly as he walked back up the length of the runway, noticing the slight jiggle and bounce in his body with each deliberate step he made. Ugh, I was not looking forward to this conversation…

Later, as we prepared for the session with wardrobe, I pulled Tristan to one side.

“Listen, Tristan, I need to talk with you,” I said, trying to sound both relaxed and in control. “You know I think you’re amazing, but I don’t think this is the right gig for you…”

Tristan raised an eyebrow for a moment, not sure what to make of what I’d said, before he burst out laughing. “Ha, yeah, good one Rick. Don’t worry, I’ll help the other guys get the hang of it. It’s not rocket science.”

I frowned. “No, Tristan, you don’t understand…” Ugh! I hated this! “I’m serious. I don’t think you’re the right… fit…” I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at his round midsection when I said it - only for a fraction of a second, but Tristan was quick enough to catch it.

“Oh…” he said, looking down at his body for a moment. “You think I’m too fat?” He looked hurt. I’d never seen him not radiating charm and confidence, but in the moment all of that dissipated. He looked like a little lost puppy. “I know I’ve gained a few… I’ve been working flat out at the office… But I didn’t think it was that bad…”

“It’s not!” I blurted out in a panic, desperate to backtrack. “You look great! Better than ever, actually. You look really healthy. That’s super in right now!” It was all lies, and I hated myself for it, but seeing that famous smile return to his face made it worth it.

And so Tristan was whisked off to wardrobe, where we tried to squeeze him into some of the pieces. I thought maybe, if we went with something layered, we could disguise his bulked up body and it might be OK. I was wrong.

Tristan was wearing a black ripped vest, designed to be tight even on a slender model, but practically painted onto him now and emphasising the ball of flesh at his waist. The fact it was ripped made him look like he’d burst out of it. When he moved his arms too high, a little slither of soft flesh would peek out the bottom. He wore a big leather trench coat, down to the floor, which I figured would do a lot of the heavy lifting in making Tristan look presentable - except, we couldn’t fasten it shut over his middle. And on his bottom half, he just wore his underwear and socks, as absolutely nothing that Cherish had designed would slide over his newly thickened thighs and ass.

Fortunately, Tristan may have been oblivious to how much he’d grown, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew this wasn’t going to work. Quietly, he wrestled himself out of the tight garments we’d given him and began to change into his own clothes. I kept my distance and tried to focus on the other boys. Later, as Tristan was leaving, I followed him out.

“Hey Tristan,” I called. “Wait up!” He turned to face me, and was still smiling, but he looked tired and pensive.

“Thanks for the opportunity, Rick! Sorry it didn’t work out.” He said, before surprising me by tapping his softer middle. “Guess I’ve been neglecting the gym!”

“Don’t worry about it, T,” I said. “You still look great and you can definitely work it off — if you want to,” I paused for a moment, hesitating as I decided whether to say what I was about to say. “Or… In the meantime, my friend runs this other company…” I handed him the card.

“Max Macdonald - Plus Size Agency”, Tristan read off the card. He sounded unsure and I thought I might have offended him again, but eventually he pocketed the card. “Thanks, Rick,” he said, giving me a quick hug. “See you around!”

***

As it happened, I never did see Tristan again. It had been four years since our awkward encounter when I found myself in a bar, catching up with my old friend Max, who I also hadn’t seen in years. Being an adult sucked!

Max had been vocally admiring a large man at the bar, telling me in great detail why this stranger’s corpulent body was so superior to the kind of talent I represented. (I’d learned my lesson and played to my strengths, now I had my own agency and was exclusively representing muscle-bound Greek Gods for high-profile names.)

None of it surprised me. Max had always been unashamedly into big guys, despite being in good shape himself. I’d seen him go through many boyfriends - usually they were varying degrees of fat, but sometimes there was a twink or two. They’d soon start to bulk up around him and usually this was when they wised up to his feeder ways and dumped him. He didn’t seem to care, and I always loved that about him. I definitely didn’t share his tastes, but I respected his unabashed commitment to them all the same.

And it seemed to be working out for him! After all, it was his love of big men that had led him to start the plus size agency that was now getting him contracts all over the world.

“Oh my god!” Max said, nearly spitting out his beer as a memory seemed to hit him like a truck. “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you!” He was laughing hysterically and I pressed him urgently for more details. Max was a great storyteller and I found myself eager to hear his tale.

“A few years ago, I was approached by this dude,” he started. I nodded. “He was young, super handsome and charismatic like no one else! He told me you’d sent him.” I paused, knowing instantly that he was talking about Tristan, though I didn’t let on. I wanted to see where this was going.

“He said he was interested in some modelling with me. I told him, ‘look man, you’re gorgeous and you’ve got it, but you’re not exactly plus size’…” He took another swig of his beer. “He was like 200lbs at most. At most!”

I laughed along. “Haha, yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t really know where else to send him. He was too fat for us, but clearly not fat enough for you!” I took a sip of my drink, feeling a little bad for leading Tristan towards more rejection.

“Not then he wasn’t!” laughed Max. I didn’t like the tone in his voice… it was… mischievous. He was relishing in this story. “But I bumped into him a couple of years later at a chub event downtown. I didn’t recognise him at first but he came right over and introduced himself… all 350lbs of him!”

“No fucking way!” My mouth dropped to the floor as my mind raced at a hundred miles an hour, trying to imagine how big a 350lb person would look�� How big a 350lb Tristan would look! That more way more than twice the size he’d been at uni.

“Yes way, he was just in a jock strap and a leather harness, shaking and jiggling all over the dance floor. There was no hiding it. He wasn’t the fattest person there by a long shot - a couple of guys were almost twice as big as him - but everyone in the joint wanted to fuck him.” He sat back and smiled smugly, looking very pleased with himself.

I gasped. “You didn’t!”

“I did!” he said, a big grin on his face. “And it was great. Like really great. Man, I had to fucking work for it though. He asked if we could stop for something to eat on the way back to my place - and we did, three times!” He clearly found the story hilarious. “I paid for the lot… Worth it though!”

I was in shock, no longer finding it funny but trying my best to play along. I couldn’t believe that had happened. Maybe Max was just exaggerating. 350lbs? Surely not…

“So, did you end up signing him?” I asked.

“Nah,” said Max, looking a little solemn before finishing his drink. “When I woke up the next day, he’d vanished without a trace and I never saw him again…”

I was about to interject, to empathise for Max, and to tell him how shitty that was, but Max held up a hand to stop me. He wasn’t finished. That big grin had returned to his face and he fished his phone from his pocket.

“I never saw him again until last week…” he said, quickly navigating his home screen to pull up one of his fetish community apps. It didn’t phase me - like I said, Max had always been very open about this stuff.

“I was swiping through the other day when I saw this prize-winning pig…” he was practically giggling as he showed me the phone screen. It was a video, captioned with just two words: “Almost 500lbs”, with a pig nose emoji for emphasis. In the video, an absolutely enormous man was wearing a far too tight black half-zip sweater over a black t-shirt. He was standing close to the camera, with his head cut off by the frame. The strained clothes clung tightly to every curve, roll and fold on his fat frame: his giant tits threatened to burst out of the sweater (the zip of which would never fasten around his fat neck), while about 20cm of pure fat belly hung out the bottom, his gluttony on full view.

Why was Max showing me this? There was nothing to suggest this was Tristan. I became increasingly convinced that this was a practical joke. There was no way that someone who used to look like Tristan now looked like… this.

But then, the whale in the video took a few steps backwards as he jiggled his huge gut for the camera, and his fat face came into view. My world stopped for a moment: it was Tristan, no doubt about it.

Had I seen this veritable blob in the street, I would never have recognised him as my old friend. But I had been primed to see him, and see him I did: even though his sharp and boyish features were now buried under blubbery cheeks, there was no mistaking the charismatic allure of those eyes, which now seemed small and beady in his fat face. All the movement in his gut caused a loud burp to erupt from his mouth, and the smile that followed it as he looked upon his body with appreciation was unmistakably his. Even when being absolutely disgusting, something about Tristan was still so confident, so irresistible… he was magnetic.

“These are the clothes I was wearing when we first met back up,” he said to someone off screen, who chucked back. I recognised that laugh… “Can you believe that was only a year ago?”

“No,” came the familiar voice, as two arms entered the frame and began to pull off Tristan’s clothes, revealing his flabby body in all its perverted glory. The arms and voice belonged to someone older than Tristan by about 15 years. They were reasonably toned and thick with hair, and the strong-looking hands took big handfuls of Tristan’s tits and flesh, shaking it and making his whole body wobble. Then the anonymous figure moved into the screen, kissing Tristan on his big, fat cheek.

I almost dropped Max’s phone and had to do a double take. Was that our fucking professor?! He looked a little older than I remembered him, which was natural, but I was sure it was him.

“…but you’re nearly 100lbs bigger since then, so that’s not surprising,” he said seductively, bringing a cream filled bun up to Tristan’s lips. His mouth opened dutifully and made short work of the pastry, which got swallowed down into his giant gut.

“And why do you think that is?” huffed Tristan, rubbing his belly and stifling another burp. He looked so cocky and sure of himself… more than that, he looked like he was worshipping himself.

“Because,” said our old professor. “You’re a spoiled piggy who gets whatever he wants.”

[kinopio-writes]

Hey love your works they are absolutely fantastic ❤️

This is an odd request but would you mind doing a Adam x Fem! Reader that is in the situation like Morty and Mr. Jellybean was? It is 100% a-okay if you don’t do this especially if it’s uncomfortable but I just wanted to know Adams reaction. Ignore if you are uncomfortable and/or just don’t want to do this ask!

Love your works!! 🥰🥰

A/N: Aww, thank you for the kind words :] I only have two works in total, lol. And, uh, I haven’t watched Rick and Morty, but I did search for some scenes on YouTube. Based on what I saw, do you mean to say how Adam would react if the reader was sexually harassed?

Words: 1,034 (not including the bullet points)

Warnings: Sexual harassment implied, Violence (because of Adam)

———

How Adam would react if Fem!Reader was sexually harassed…

In the middle of writing this, I just remembered that they live in Heaven. So I don’t know how or why a molester would end up in Heaven. Even if there was one, they likely got booted off immediately, so just imagine a sinner somehow managed to sneak into Heaven.

• Adam’s reaction would completely change depending on who you are to him (if you two just met for a date or are casual bang buddies)

• so I’ll just give you the best one for comfort (at least the best Adam could give) and make you two be in a close relationship (not GF and BF though. But you two go on not-so-platonic dates sometimes)

• I also think it’s good to mention that I try to keep Adam’s character as accurate as possible

• it might make him seem insensitive, so I suggest going to the last section if you’re here for comfort (the last section has a blue ‘•••’)

———

Adam recommended a place that had been recently open for a while. He actually burst through your front door to go there the day it was open.

Unfortunately for him, you were busy and will be for the next few weeks as well. Something about work that he didn’t bother to listen to because it was, well, about boring shit.

But now, you managed to get the whole week off, so Adam has you all for himself. And his first action of business was to get you to chillax. What better way to do that than to hang out with him?

He was so fucking hyped. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you try out the food there!

You two were going to have so much fun!

•••

“We need to go,” was what you suddenly decided after you came back from the bathroom, voice emotionless and firm.

Adam stared at you as if you grew horns and a tail. “Why? The fuck happened?”

Your face faltered at his question. “We need to go. Please.”

“Uh, it hasn’t even been an hour. Now get over here and fucking eat.” You only did so after a moment he munched on his burger, but not in the way he expected. You hid near his seat, gripping on the legs as you made yourself as small as possible. “The fuck are you doing?” He paused before grinning suggestively. “Learn some decency, (Name), jeez. If you wanted to…suck…”

Adam trailed off as he watched someone come out of the women’s bathroom, badly beaten and bruised. He…it didn’t have a halo on its head, and its attempt to cover up its slender and angled horns was fucking stupid.

His playful expression dropped and it shifted to anger when he saw it looking around, around for you.

You suddenly felt a strong gust of wind as the plates and glasses clattered on the table you were hiding behind. You peeked from your spot to witness Adam ruthlessly and relentlessly punch the sinner’s face, a hand slowly going over your mouth at the display of violence. You didn’t know he could be so brutal. He was saying things that didn’t reach your ears, but you knew they weren’t pleasant.

You only felt yourself move after you saw Adam lift his arms in the air, hands accompanied by holy light. “Wait! Adam, Adam, stop!”

“What!” He turned around to face you momentarily as he shrugged your hand off of his shoulder. “Let me at ʼim—!”

“Adam, you’re causing a scene,” you whispered, glancing around at the growing audience.

Adam was offended. “I’m helping!” He flapped his wings to stand up, his anger now directed at you. “You’re just going to let a Sinner do you like that? Huh!”

“I just want to go home.”

He stared at your face for a moment. “Whatever.” He scowled at the Sinner one last time before he began making his way outside. You quietly followed after him. “This place is lame, anyway.”

The whole walk, you kept your head down as Adam gave the finger and a nasty look to anyone who ignorantly tried to approach you to cheer you up.

•••

You didn’t know when you got home; you didn’t even know Adam stayed with you until he spoke up.

“Uh…do you need, like, shit, I dunno…something?” You heard the ruffling of his wings and the shuffling of his clothing. “I could order delivery. There’s this place I’ve been…” You further curled yourself into a ball on your bed. You didn’t remember when you got there. “Actually, maybe you should pick where this time, huh? How’s that sound?”

When you didn’t respond, Adam lowered his arms, his smile fading into a frown.

He debated whether or not to leave you here before you scooted to the farthest side of the bed, turning yourself over to face him but avoiding eye contact as you patted the spot you were just in.

Adam took one glance behind him before he slipped into bed beside you, hands on his tummy as he stared at your ceiling.

The silence was uncomfortable for Adam. He desperately wanted to fill it with some chatter. Without it, it felt as though there was no one with him in the room.

As if you read his mind, your hands hugged his arm, and it numbed his unease, if only for a moment. He extended the time by placing a hand on yours, caressing them with his thumb.

“I don’t want to see this,” you suddenly spoke after a minute.

“Huh?” He looked down at you, still not making eye contact with him.

“Take your mask off.”

He scoffed and turned down your request, “You’re not even looking at me.”

“Take it off,” you repeated more firmly.

“Why?”

“Then I’ll take it off.” You reached out to grab his horns, pulling them upwards. When it didn’t comply, you kneeled on the bed and pulled harder. “How do you take it off?”

“Why do you wanna see me so badly? Just go to sleep already.”

“Not until you take that off.”

“I’ll stay with you until you wake up,” he attempted to bargain.

“Adam.” You gave up on removing his mask yourself. “Take it off.”

He hesitated before sighing heavily, easily tugging it off of his head and tossing it on the nightstand.

With his real face revealed, you were able to look at him. His golden eyes brought you solace, and his human-like features gave you relief.

“There. Better?” he asked bitterly as he averted his eyes from yours. “Now go to sleep.” After that, Adam tried to face his back toward you, but you leaned over and held his face and shoulder, pulling him back. “What is it now—”

“You said you’ll stay with me until I wake up.”

“I will,” he said as if you were doubting him, but he knew you weren’t.

Satisfied with his promise, you stared into the soft glow of his eyes as yours started to grow heavy.

In the last moments of your consciousness, you felt yourself get pulled closer to something soft, and you heard the sound of ruffling as warmth enveloped you.

[chandlersfuneral]

time baby

carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: fem!reader, possessive fem!reader, long term friends, fluff, angst, parent loss, care giving fem!reader, hair cutting, mention of trauma, black cat fem! reader, kissing, platonic to romantic relationship between reader and carl.

*set in alexandria but talks of flashbacks to childhood after the apocalypse like the quarry, the prison, and early alexandria*

request sent by @slaughterlils666 <3

will be a mini series; lils gave me so many good ideas

the multi colored sunset is almost blinding to your bright green eyes. it was around 730 in alexandria when you sat yourself down on the vacant chair resting on carl's front porch. you silently sat there waiting, reminiscing on your rough but beautiful past with carl. it was about five minutes of waiting before he noticed your presence on his porch. carl made his way out the front door and planted his tall, slender frame against the porch railing.

he lets you sit in silence for just a few minutes as you disassociate in front of him. the soft touch of carl's hand resting on your shoulder shakes you out of your thoughts. his hand renders much larger in comparison to your shoulders. "what's going on in there?" carl questions, pointing to your dark locks.

"i'm just thinking about you... us. our past together." you say with a soft smile, still focusing your eyes straight ahead. "oh yeah? tell me about it." carl said sweetly, retreating back to his spot on the banister.

you sink in your seat a little bit before responding just above a whisper, "i'm just thinking about when everything started... when we were kids."

"like how you were so protective of me?" carl giggles under his breath, also reflecting on how you and him acted together as kids.

"i just wanted to save you from all the hurt and impurities of the cruel stupid world we live in." carl’s face immediately softens. he had a feeling that you were possessive and a little too caring, but he never heard you say it straight out.

˚　　　��✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

carl's bloodcurdling screams could be heard throughout the entirety of the prison. maybe even disrupting the lonesome walkers lurking around the outside. "carl? carl!" you scream out, your adolescent voice cracking throughout your screams. your girly sandals clicking loudly against the concrete floor.

"no! don't come over here!" rick shouts, trying to shield you from the horrific scene you were about to witness. instead of listening to rick’s demands, you push him to the side to help carl. but once you've seen lori's dead body and carl holding a gun, your feet stop.

"lia, no, please. this isn't..." carl falls to his knees, dropping rick’s pistol. he doesn't know what to say to make this seem any better. but you ran to his aid anyway. holding him and stroking his hair as he wailed and wailed into your neck. you held him for what felt like hours, slightly rocking him back and forth to sooth him. trying your best to take him away from his newfound trauma for a second.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

“you were just a kid, carl.” you sniffled, tears rolling down your rosy cheeks. carl didn’t even respond, he just brought you to his chest. holding you close to him in a warm, soft embrace. his fingers tangled in your hair in an attempt to calm you down. just like you did for carl in the prison.

once you felt his fingers tangled in your hair, you placed your hand on top of his. the feeling of his hand in yours, reminded you of how carl’s hair is getting longer and scraggly. his brown locks were getting hard to tame. “you know carl… your hair.. it’s getting too long.” you spaced out your sentence in fear that carl would turn away. lori was the only one who cut his hair. it was a unspoken thing that carl just didn’t cut his hair after she passed. but you wanted to try. you wanted to be there for him.

carl took off his hat and looked you deep in your green eyes. “i know what you’re asking, okay? just make it quick.” your face lit up at his response, but you tried to conceal it not to overwhelm him. this was a huge honor from carl.

carl took your hand in his and lead you inside the front door of his alexandria home. rick lived there too, but mostly he resided with michonne. the place was all to yourselves for the night. the fact that rick was absent from the home made your tummy flutter.

while you obtained all the supplies needed to give carl a hair cut, he just sat down in a chair in the kitchen. he was awaiting his demise. carl felt severely embarrassed that such a small thing was so hard for him to do. but it was more than lori. it was also the fact that his hair kept eyes away from his deformed face.

you started to lay a towel around him to catch the hair but he put his hands up to push it away. “i don’t want my hair to get all over my shirt.” carl mumbled, taking off his flannel and v-neck t shirt. the act made your eyes widen, and your core tense up. but whatever made carl feel better in this stressful process.

resuming back to prepping him, you placed the towel around his neck and chest as a makeshift salon cape. but you remembered his hair needed to be wet to properly cut it.

“shit.” you sighed, pulling the towel off. “carl, we need to wet your hair.”

“it’s fine, lia. i got it.” he grumbled, taking the towel off his chest. carl marched to the kitchen sink and stuck his hair under the warm water.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

the sounds of scissors snipping hair filled the air of carl’s home. his head stayed as stiff as a board. you can hear carl’s voice replaying in your head over and over as you meticulously trimmed his honey brown locks. “don’t go too short. just a trim, lia.” his stern tone rattled inside your mind.

“are you almost done?” carl put his hand in his hair to feel around but you quickly swatted it away with your free hand. “oh my god, i’m sorry. i just don’t wanna mess it up okay? i’m almost done.” and before he knew it, carl’s trim was done. it felt like an hour to him but it was only 10 minutes.

“and we’re done, grimes. get a good look.” you handed him a compact mirror for him to look at himself. it was the only thing you had on hand.

“it looks good, lia. thank you.” carl flashed a smile your way before running his slender fingers through his hair a few times. after an inspection on his new cut, he put his hat on to make the look come together. it really did look good, you barely dusted off the ends of his hair. “you look like the same ol, cute carl.” you whispered with a disgustingly large smile on your face. you wanted to make carl feel good about this situation. that it was just dusting off the dead ends. like it needed to happen.

“thank you, sweetheart.” carl gave you a genuine, loving smile. sweetheart made you blush. carl wasn’t a pet name guy. but you savored the pet name like a yummy drink on your tongue. you couldn’t savor it long before you felt the feeling of carl’s plush, soft lips on top of yours.

HI GUYS :3 i’m really excited to keep this series going. there are a lot of ideas to go over but i wanted to get this short and sweet bit out first.

lia can be anyone you want. short, tall, skinny, chubby, blue, green, brown eyes. i don’t care at all. i just don’t like y/n, it makes me cringe. you can imagine your own name or whatever you want. it’s for the readers pleasure. just wanted to make that disclaimer.

enjoy bye 👹

[scary-lasagna]

Hi! Could we get more of the creeps bumping into someone they used to know before their incidents?? I love your blog thank you!!

Decided to go a negative route for this one to make it spicy

tw: bullying, trauma mention,

Toby

He tried so hard.

Even after the double take, he still wasn't sure about the man five feet away from him.

But he still smelled the same, that irritating wet-dog smell mixed with a shitty watered-down body spray.

Toby balled his fists, attempting to focus on the words of the shirt in front of him.

Standing in line at the bank was not where he expected his next breakdown, yet here we are. He wasn't even in his hometown; he was a few cities west of his origin.

Toby was mentally prepared to glance at a few familiar faces, but never the main culprit of the Devil of his school years.

With the stress of the situation, his medication seemed to nullify, and a quick snap of his neck caused a few heads to turn toward him.

Toby's cheeks burned, and he glared at the marble flooring.

"Ticci Toby?"

Fuck.

Toby tightened his jaw and slowly looked over to the man in the next line over, a redhead with dirt clinging to his oily skin, along with that same spotty beard Toby remembered from his school-days.

Then again, Toby probably didn't look his best after work either, with sweat still clinging to his bangs and dirty, non-bank-worthy clothes.

"Rick." Toby managed a cringeworthy grimace of a smile, "How have you been?"

At the moment, Toby felt like that pathetic excuse for a teenager again. A pathetic excuse for a human.

The memories of being shoved against lockers and brick walls and returning home with more bruises than he cared about resurfaced in waves of pain.

"I've been good. Been working." Rick nodded. He sniffed and glanced away, "You disappeared off the map, everyone thought you killed your dad and died in the fire."

What a fucking opener for small talk.

"He was not my Dad," Toby said curtly. And I'm still alive." However, Toby definitely wished he wasn't at that moment.

The pain of embarrassment and uncomfortableness was enough to make the brunette keel over.

"I bet you wished Lyra was still here after all of that, huh?"

A beat passed, and despite how hard Toby glared at the man in front of him, the line did not budge. Rick continued to stare at Toby.

"You think you're too good to talk to me now?"

Toby breathed. He sighed and rolled his neck.

A verbal tic followed closely after, at the best moment to call Rick a Cunt.

Whatever manilla folder Rick held dropped from his hands and dully fell against the marble.

Toby allowed himself to react out of pure fear and instinct, punching Rick directly in the jaw before he could even lay hands on him.

And, with Toby being much stronger now as a grown man, Rick was not expecting such a hit. The pressure radiated from his jaw and rebounded to whatever brain cells were left in his empty skull.

Toby didn't know what happened between that moment and when he was running from security guards and into the nearest wooded area.

But his hands were covered in blood, and his knuckles had been scraped open.

After returning home, he apologized to Slender for not depositing the check and decided not to speak of anything else.

[dolcettamagica]

may I please have a steamy car sex drabble with Rick c-137?

RICK C-137 simply wanted to get some ice-cream for his grandkid's and then return home. he couldn't help himself though when he saw you turn around in his space-car and reach back, trying to get your back from the backseat. your cute little skirt rose up, exposing your thong-covered pussy. what man could have kept his cool? rick couldn't. so he smacked your ass before biting into one of your cheeks.

"ri–rick?!"

"just a quickie, baby, you made daddy hard."

that's how you got into this situation – straddling rick's lap while he was pressing, circulating his thumb over your puffy clit, your wetness soaking through his khaki pants.

"look how–how wet you are, baby. pussy looks so lonely though."

a smug grin graced his face as he pushed not one, but two fingers, into you. your walls clenching around his slender fingers which were mercilessly fucking into your cunt, curling inside to hit your sweet spots.

"need my lil' slut ready for this big cock."

"please stop…stop teasing me"

your whimpers made his cock twitch. you looked so beautiful. messy hair, skirt still on, tits freed from your unbuttoned blouse and bouncing in front of his face. rick leaned forward to lick and nibble on your nipples. he could feel your walls tightening as soon as he showed some love to your tits.

"can you beg for daddy's cock like a good girl?"

"fuck…please, daddy, please fill me–fill me with your cock and fuck me already!"

"good girl", he purred into your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin, before he lifted you up, "sit down on my cock, doll."

slowly you lowered yourself. rick was way bigger than any men you've had before. despite having sex with him several times you never seem to get used to his incredible length and width. and you loved it. you loved the feeling of rick stretching you out, squirming under his hard, rough thrusts while he degraded and praised you simultaneously, his veins rubbing against your insides.

his tip was barely in. rick was digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. your lips parted, the air filled by your slutty moans. without any warning (or thinking about it twice) he rammed his full length into your soaking pussy.

"ahh f–fuck", rick planted kisses all over your neck, his arms wrapped around your body as he jerks his hips up, mercilessly thrusting into your squirming, trembling body, "couldn't stop myself. daddy loves your sweet lil' cunt."

his cock was kissing your cervix as he continued to fuck you. his thrusts were sloppy but hard and deep, your pussy clenching and tightening, his dick pulsating inside you. he lowered his head, putting your nipple into his mouth once more, his teeth gently gracing it. one of his hands was mercilessly spanking your ass.

"you're my dirty, dirty slut, aren't you? always…mmh, always eager to please daddy."

[connorsblog]

pretty boy | c.g

loosely inspired by "pretty boy" by the neighbourhood!

genre : fluff !

summary : reader & carl take turns describing how they see eachother in their eyes, or eye in carls case. fluff ensues !

a/n : sorry if this sucks !!! i havent written in forever, so it might be a bit ooc :(

"i have an idea," carl shifted on the carpeted floor, watching judith play with her makeshift toys in the corner of his eye.

"shoot, and not literally," i joke shortly, chuckling as carl seems to stare into my soul with his eye. it's scary how he can do that.

"we should describe eachother. not like how an outsider would see it.. but the way we see eachother. it sounds fun, you in?" he inquires, tilting his head the same damn way his dad does.

"i can go first," he says as i stay silent. i nod my head as an internal battle begins in my head. what if i mess up? what if i say the wrong thing?

"i think you are pretty. and not just outside," he pauses as his voice cracks a bit. he clears his throat to continue, "the way you look at judith like she's your own sister, the way you care for people that dont even know you."

carl seemed to hesitate continuing.

"i can go next," i murmur as my throat seems to close up. the walls felt like they were closing in, but one look into carl's eye and everything was fine again.

i didn't know how to start, so i just decided to act rational and hope for the best.

"you're calm and warm, everything about you is warm," i paused. "i hope that makes sense," i whispered.

"it does," was all carl said. out the corner of my eye, i saw his slender hand snake towards mine. i decided to be oblivious, hoping to make the moment better for him.

i felt the warm skin against my hand, heat flushing to my face as carl smirked. his sideways smile always gave me butterflies.

out the window of carls room, i saw the sun setting down into the horizon line. it was quiet today, no accidents and rick didnt even interrupt them.

i glanced over to judith, she was asleep against the blanket wall we had made for her. she looked peaceful. she always did when she slept.

carl cleared his throat. it seemed like he wanted to say something, but i decided not to push too hard and just stay next to him.

"something is quiet about today," i said after a few deafening moments of silence.

he turned to me slightly, his eye outlined by the ray of light peeking through the window.

"were you.. serious earlier?" he inquired. i wasnt sure what part he meant, i had said a lot earlier. even before the game.

"which part?" i asked, turning towards him slightly. our hands were still intertwined, pinkies holding eachother like we'd held hands before.

"the part where you said i was warm. i have one eye, how can i be warm?" i heard his voice shake ever so slightly.

sometimes i forgot he was just a kid when his eye was shot out.

"yes, i meant it. every part." i whispered tightening my grip on his hand ever so slightly.

a grin grew on his face, that lopsided smile giving me butterflies as always.

"even with one eye, you're gorgeous." i furrow my eyebrows together as his smile grows just a tinge bigger.

— — —

pretty boy, you did this with me, boy. now it's all about to end.

— — —

a/n : i hope you enjoyed ! :)

[jadasmp4]

★ PAIRING: ARTIST!MADISON X FEM!READER

★ warnings: use of y/n, suggestive content ★ a/n: shit writing but im bored so like why not ★ SYNOPSIS: Madison gets the idea to tattoo reader while they're hanging out.

The rough scratch of a pen against paper filled my ears as I laid on one side of my bed with my eyes closed. Near the edge of the bed was Madison, sketching whatever her mind could think of on a random piece of mail that was thrown onto the table, either earlier today or maybe a month ago. Who knows how long ago? Its anybody's guess. We’ve been laying around in my room for like, 2 days. Doing whatever really. Watching rick and Morty, doing each other’s makeup, etc etc. I open my eyes to glance at her once I can't hear the pen anymore. Madison's by the edge of the bed, laying on her stomach and swinging her feet back and forth in the air. She's admiring her work, or maybe critiquing it as she scribbles a part of the drawing out. I'm drawn to the way her slender fingers hold the pen tightly. "Would you ever want a tattoo?" She asks, with a soft voice like she's scared to penetrate the silence in the room. "Mm.. yeah, why not? I just don't have the time to go out and get one." I say, turning my head to give her my full attention. I examine the thoughtful look on her face as she gives her drawing another look. "Now's a good time, right?" She turns her head to me. Her eyes flicker over my face, taking in every feature as if searching for something. "I dunno, mads. I hate needles and I don't think you have any tattooing experience.." My thoughts were cut off by her scooting beside me. I feel my heart rate increasing slightly. I've always been a little scared of needles, but the thought of getting a tattoo from Madison… That's different. "Take off your shirt." She says, so demanding I almost want her to keep directing me. I watch her lips move when she speaks. They're glossy and perfect. God, I'm soaked. Okay but seriously, what? Like, huh? "What..??" I say out loud this time. I can feel my heart beating. Definitely faster than it was a few minutes ago. She gives me a look like- 'I'm not repeating what I said,' so I just do it. I'm not fully exposed, i still have a bra, but it stills feels weird. Like, forbidden for your friend to see you almost naked. But I kinda like it. The shirt had some random indie rock band on it that I couldn't care to listen to. Can't tell you the name since I threw the shirt on the floor. Whatever, who needs shirts when Madison Beer is telling you to take yours off.

She straddles me right after successfully pulling my shorts down long enough so that they're now low rise and I swear I'm going to have a heart attack. I feel her thighs rest on the sides of me and not to mention her slowly lowering herself down on me? I think I just saw the light. I swear I could cum right now from the view of her on top of me. Madison's eyes rake over my bare skin, and I can feel myself blushing under her gaze. She grabs some chunky ass pen from somewhere on my bed and the piece of mail she was sketching on before. She also puts on some gloves. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Madison says, sensing the worried look on my face. She traces a medium sized image in the bottom right area of my waist. It kinda tickles. I have goosebumps. While she traces the image on my midriff in pen with one hand, another is laying right below my bra. If only she would move her hand up just a little bit, rip the cloth right off and jump my bones right here, right now. She looks up and scans my face, her lashes flicking up and down with her eyes. "Gosh, y/n, you're so red.." She smiles smugly. "Gosh, Mads, you're so annoy-" I gasp quick, feeling a kind of quick pricking, or a burning sensation on my midriff. My gaze falls on the chunky tattoo pen shes holding in the air. "don't move." Her voice was low, a bit raspy maybe, as she focused on my skin, dropping her hand and the pen back down on the outline. I would let out a guttural moan at the sound of her voice if it was socially acceptable between friends. "Maddie, seriously, go easy on me. This hurts like hell.." I whine, no lie I'm being dramatic about it. "It would hurt a lot less if you shut your pretty mouth and stopped moving. Maybe like, 15% less.. 20%, give or take." "only 20..?" Pouting, I swoop some hair out of her face so she doesn't fuck up my perfect skin if she can't see. Minutes, or maybe an hour passed of Madison tattooing me and she was finally finished. She fully sat up to admire her work while caressing up my waist and around the tattoo. Her fingers trace gently along my skin, sending small electric shocks through my body. It's like she's mapping me out, learning every curve and scar. The butterflies in my stomach were having a boxing match and I swear with how silent it was she could definitely hear them. I shiver involuntarily under her touch and she notices. Hazel eyes snap to mine and with a provocative smirk she leans in close to the shell of my ear. Her warm breath on my ear mirrors the warmth I feel growing in my panties. She leers, enjoying the effect she's having on me. Her hand continues to explore my body, skimming across my ribs. "What's the matter? Can't handle a little teasing?"

[carlsdarling]

carl with fingering. it can be anything. any scenario. it’s all i can think about right now because LOOK AT HIS HANDS.

please and thank you 🙏🏼 keep on doing gods work 💗

Piano Player's Hands

Y/N gets really obsessed with Carl's hands... Bit more of a plot, than sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw

Piano player's hands, that's what popped into your head when you first became aware of Carl Grimes' hands during a boring meeting at the Alexandria Community Center.

You were sitting around a large round table, and the topic was how to make the Alexandria neighborhood safer because Saviours often prowled around the area

Carl didn't say much - he never did - he just listened, both hands wrapped around a coffee cup. Once you started, you couldn't stop looking at his hands. They were big for such a slender boy, but graceful - with long, slender fingers and clearly visible knuckles. Really the hands of a piano player; only the chipped and somewhat dirty fingernails and the calluses, the rough skin and the small wounds didn't fit the picture, you mused. But Carl's hands were mostly busy working, killing walkers or cleaning weapons. There wasn't much time for hand and nail care.

"Y/N?" asked Maggie impatiently, and you noticed startled - apparently she hadn't addressed you for the first time.

"Um, what?" you asked dumbly, and Maggie rolled her eyes.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to be assigned to regular patrols outside the wall?"

"Uh, yeah," you stammered, taking your eyes off Carl's hands with difficulty.

                                                           ***

In the following time you caught yourself again and again thinking about Carl in a juicy way. About him and his hands, especially his fingers. You imagined Carl pleasuring himself; how his long fingers closed around his hard shaft and moved up and down, squeezing lightly, how he rubbed his thumb over the wet tip, how he tossed his head back and forth on the pillow and moaned. Certainly Carl did it every day; at least that was true of most boys his age. You had never had much contact, but now your thoughts were constantly circling around Carl.

When you masturbated yourself, you now fantasized exclusively about Carl; you dreamed of him sliding those fingers into your pussy and stroking your clit. You feared that people would see what you were thinking, so you started avoiding Carl. Whenever you ran into him, you would turn bright red, turn around, and walk away in the other direction. One day you were supposed to stand guard on the wall with Carl, but that was completely impossible, you couldn't talk to him or look him in the eye - he would read your dirty mind, you were sure of it. So you sought out Rick and asked him to let you switch shifts with someone.

Rick frowned at the schedule where the guard duties were listed. It was clear he wasn't thrilled with your request. "Now I'm going to have to reschedule everything," he groused. "Why do you want to change shifts?"

"Um, I, I... well, I don't like getting up early," you lied.

"The shift starts at 10 AM," Rick wondered. "But well, I guess you can switch with Glenn; you'll be on at 6 PM," he stated, scribbling on the list. Neither Rick, nor you had noticed Carl standing next to the doorway to the living room.

After leaving Rick's house, you went to the stables, you wanted to look at a newborn foal. The foal was lying in the straw, sleeping, protected by its mother. "Cute, isn't it?" a voice sounded behind you.

The foal woke up and roused itself. You flinched. "Carl!" you exclaimed. "Are you stalking me?" you then accused him.

"To be honest, yes," he answered hesitantly. "I overheard that you didn't want to be on guard duty with me. Besides, you're avoiding me like I have the plague. Have I done something to you?" he asked, half hurt, half provocative.

You glanced past him to his left hand, with which he was petting the foal. "No," you murmured. The sight made you all tingly.

"Then what is it?" demanded Carl angrily.

"Well...I can't talk about it," you evaded, your face glowing. You tried to walk past Carl out of the stable, but he held you by the shoulder.

"Wait," he said, amused. "Are you...are you maybe crushing on me?" He grinned.

"I don't know," you squirmed, licking your lips. Carl was suddenly very close to you, his breath warmly brushing your neck, then all of a sudden his lips lay softly on yours. You let yourself go into the kiss, of course you did. When you stopped the kiss a moment later, you whispered, "I can't stop thinking about your fingers."

Carl raised an eyebrow - the one, visible one. "My fingers?"

"Yes, they...they're extraordinary, beautiful, and I'd like you to...um..."

Carl chuckled. "Now I understand," he said, throwing you a cocky smile before kissing you again, letting his right hand wander to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them and fumbling forward into your panties. You went to your knees whimpering as he stroked you between your legs, wetting his fingers. You sank to the floor together, and you impatiently pushed your pants and panties down to your knees to give Carl free access. "You're completely wet for me," he noted with fascination.

"Carl, finger me, please," you moaned breathlessly, raising your hips with a yelp as Carl obeyed, sliding his index and middle finger into your willing pussy and gently moving them back and forth with a smooth rhythm. "Oh, Carl, yes, please," you moaned, totally wanting and at his mercy. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, craving more and more of him. He bent down and kissed you passionately as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. You clung to Carl's shoulders as he pushed you over the edge and the world exploded around you in stars and rainbow colors. "Carl!!!" you panted, clawing at him. One of the horses shied away at your outcry.

Breathing heavily, you relaxed as Carl slowly pulled his fingers out of you. They were all slippery from your juices. Your heart raced. Carl pressed himself against you longingly. "You could do something for me now," he pleaded, and you could see the bulge in his jeans. He rubbed over it meaningfully.

"Jerk yourself off," you suggested. "I want to see that."

Carl grinned suggestively. "Someday, maybe, but right now I want you to jerk me off. It's only fair, don't you think?" he pouted.

He wasn't wrong, though. "All right," you agreed. You still had a little time before you had to show up for your work at the doctor's office. Eagerly, Carl opened his belt and his jeans and pulled out his fully erected dick, and you noted that it was really big and just as pretty as Carl's hands, and inhaled sharply. However, it turned out that Carl was so aroused from your previous activities that he cum all over your hand just as soon as you touched him.

"Oh," he commented lamely. "Sorry, baby."

You had to snicker. "I think we should do this more often."

--

Tags: @loveforcarl @tessasweet @knochentrocken0808 @taylormarieee

[aanxiousangel]

​🇧​​🇷​​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇾​ ​🇧​​🇮​​🇹​​🇪​​🇸​ | ​🇷​​🇮​​🇨​​🇰​ ​🇸​​🇦​​🇳​​🇨​​🇭​​🇪​​🇿​ ​🇨​-₁₃₇

🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇷​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​​🇸​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇸​​🇪​​🇷​​🇻​​🇪​​🇩​ - ​🇮​ ​🇩​​🇴​ ​🇳​​🇴​​🇹​ ​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇰​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇺​​🇸​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇦​​🇩​​🇦​​🇵​​🇹​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇾​ ​🇼​​🇦​​🇾

Ever dreamt of nasty sex under the stars? SAME. Anyway, it's slightly edited, and awkward because I feel weird about using explicit words for body parts! My bad!

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 4803 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: graphic depictions of consensual sex. forty-something year age gap. kinks. masochism. 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: smut, slight humor

Y/N looked up at the stars as they traveled through space. One, two, three…fucking thousand. While Rick and Morty were talking, Rick kept looking back at the silent girl. His teeth grit every now and then. Usually it irritated him when she rambled on and on with his grandson, but it made his skin crawl that she wasn’t saying jack shit.

“Are you okay?” Rick finally spoke to her, voice tight.

“Why?” Y/N looked back at him.

“Cause you’re quiet. Don’t you normally talk or something?”

“I guess? Don’t most people?” She smirked.

“Shut up,” Rick scoffed at her snarky remark.

“If you say so,” Y/N crossed her arms.

Morty stayed quiet, a little awkward now. Rick rolled his eyes. Y/N stayed quiet for the rest of the ride, staring through the glass up at the neverending sky. She was almost disappointed when they entered Earth’s atmosphere, parking in the Smith’s driveway. Morty hopped out almost immediately, going inside. Y/N stopped moving to get out when she caught Rick’s gaze through the mirror.

“What?” She asked flatly.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Rick’s tone was a bit more aggressive than he intended, but he didn’t falter as he turned to face her.

Y/N sighed and moved to sit in the passenger seat, ready to leave. Rick locked the door as she reached for the handle and started the ship immediately. Her glare would’ve been scary if he didn’t know she wouldn’t dare lay a hand on him. He just took off far up into the sky, leaving Earth once more. He continued driving until there was nothing but stars around them. A few pieces of debris floated around, catching her eye.

Rick clearing his throat, burping, pulled her from her mind. Finally, she tore her gaze away from the everlasting space and looked at him only to find his gaze already on her. His energy was filling up the space, almost suffocating.

“Talk, kid,” Rick sat back in his seat, taking a swig of his flask.

“I’m not a fucking kid,” Y/N snapped, shuddering as she took in a deep breath to calm herself.

“You’re like fifty years younger than me.” Rick scoffed. “What are you like…twenty?”

“I’m twenty-seven,” She furrowed her brows.

Rick stared at her for a while, drinking in her features. The way her lips were pouting at his lack of knowledge about her, the way her brows knit together with a mix of irritation and confusion, the way her cheeks…were turning pink? Rick’s brows pulled together now. Why was she blushing?

“Why are you staring at me?”

Her voice cut through what was about to be a rabbit hole in his own mind.

“Why are you blushing?”

He retorts simply, folding his arms over his slender chest.

Y/N simply sits there, tearing her gaze to stare at the empty sky. Rick didn’t think twice about his actions. It wasn’t something he did because he knew every possible outcome of what he would like to do. It wasn’t something he did because he was the smartest fucking man in the universe. So, when he grabbed her jaw and pulled her attention back to him, he wasn’t overthinking it. Y/N sure fucking was though.

“What are you doing?” She asked with a tremor creeping into her voice.

“Doing what the fuck I want,” Rick hums, tilting his head. “Nervous? You’re getting red again.”

“I am not!” Yes, she was. Y/N forced her voice to stay as even as she could possibly manage with him inching closer. “You’re seeing things, old man.”

“Insult me all you want, brat. I know what I’m seeing.” He squeezes a little tighter, pulling her closer. “And I know you’re on the verge of creaming your pants.”

Y/N’s breath hitches, releasing her clenched thighs.

“What? Think I didn’t notice?” He laughs at her obviousness. He fucking laughs. “Come on, baby. Do what that little heart desires.”

“Bastard,” She muttered, attempting to pull away.

Rick clicks his tongue, glaring as he moves his hand to wrap around the back of her neck. The motion holds her in place, shocking her. He had a grip for sure. Strength, even.

“I’ll give you a fuckin’ bastard,” Rick leans in, hissing against her ear.

“Don’t you dare,” Y/N retorts, cheeks flaring with embarrassment.

“Don’t act like that then. You’re saying one thing while your body is telling me another thing.” Rick rolls his eyes, releasing her.

“Rick, you’re literally–” Y/N starts.

“Don’t you dare,” his eyes trail over her and back up to her eyes. He knew exactly what she was about to say. He wasn’t stupid. Obviously. He was the smartest fucking man in the universe. A god. He was about to be her god.

“Why do you do this?” Y/N finally breaks, earning a smirk in return. “Why do you always flirt with me and then act like a dick!? What the fuck is with you? You confuse me!”

“Because, you fucking brat, you do the same! You bat those little fuck-me eyes at me and turn around, acting like you wouldn’t dare get on your knees for me.” Rick throws his arms up, exasperated. “Go ahead! Tell me you wouldn’t–”

Rick grunts, Y/N’s mouth sealing over his. She pulled away just as he was going to return the favor, a million emotions swirling in her eyes.

“I would do a lot of fucking things to you, Rick Sanchez.” Y/N sighs, “I didn’t want to fucking tell you because of who you are.”

“Who I am? Who wouldn’t want to sleep with the smartest–” Rick stopped when he saw the look on her face. “What?”

“That! You’re a manwhore, Rick!” She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to hold in a groan. “And you’re egotistical! An overconfident bastard!”

“So?” His eyebrow raises, ignoring the rest of her statements. “It’s not like I have space AIDs.”

“Do you even know that?” She scoffs.

“Obviously!” Rick bares his teeth for a moment.

Y/N clenches her jaw, staring at him as she yanks the shirt over her head. Rick’s eyes trail over the curves of her, nostrils flaring. Her hands move to the button of her jeans just as Rick stops her.

“What are you doing?” Rick’s voice was tight like he was fighting off urges.

“What does it look like?” Y/N asked softly despite the sarcasm.

“Are you doing this because you’re trying to prove something?” He keeps his eyes on her hands hovering above her jeans, his hand tightly clasped around her wrist.

“No. Kind of.” Y/N shakes her head, watching him. “I don’t know. I just…I need to get you out of my system.”

Rick exhales shakily. He seems to mull over her answer. Get him out of her system? That’s all this was for her? Fuck that. Fuck that.

“Forget it.” Y/N murmurs, grabbing her shirt. “It was stupid.”

“Ship, one-way mirror the windows.” Rick orders firmly, his eyes moving to lock on Y/N’s.

Y/N glances as the Ship lights up blue in affirmation and the windows glaze just slightly. Still clear, but it hid the outside from seeing in. Her breath hitched as Rick moved his hands to move her into the backseat, following her into the spacious area. The only sounds that filled the air were their mingled breathing and the ship slightly tipping with their movements. Rick’s hands worked at her jeans, sliding them off.

It was beginning to bother her that his expression didn’t change while looking at her, only nostrils flaring slightly. Even as his hands spread her thighs for him to move between them. Even as her panties were displaying a damp spot to him. Nothing? His lab coat slipped off slowly. Y/N gasped, yanked from her thoughts as Rick’s teeth clamped down on her neck, a guttural groan slipping from his throat.

“Fucking bitch,” Rick grunted against her skin. “I’ve been keeping my eye on you. Biding time. You make me fucking itch, Y/N. You make my skin crawl. You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” Y/N was tense under him, her hands resting on his ribs.

“You do things to me that nobody fucking does,” Rick grits out, his hands moving to grip her thighs in a bruising grip.

“Why..?” She swallows thickly, like something was caught in her throat.

“I don’t know,” his lips move to kiss the teeth marks he left softly. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve assumed it was affection. But that wouldn’t be the Rick she’d known, now would it? Her skin was heating up with each passing moment, his lips practically making out with the spot on her neck.

“It’s not fair I’m half naked,” she mumbles out, squeezing his ribs, “and you aren’t.”

“Sorry, princess,” he scoffs softly, pulling his shirt off. “Didn’t know you had so many stipulations for this.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I’m sorry. Do you fuck with your clothes on?”

“No,” Rick’s lips tighten into a thin line, pulling her bra straps off her shoulders.

He slides his hands under her, unhooking the bra quickly and smoothly. With a yank, her breasts were exposed to him. And finally, he makes a face. His jaw tightens as he inhales, narrowing his gaze on her.

“Holding out on me, huh?” He grits out, the tent pitched in his pants snapping to attention.

“Your fault,” She smiles innocently, glaring at him.

Rick snaps, his lips crashing down on hers. Y/N lets out a sharp moan at the sharpshooting pain on her nipple, his fingers pinching and rolling it. Without a warning, Rick pulls away and slaps her cheek. He pulls her face to look at him again as a handprint formed on her cheek.

“Safe word,” he barks out, gripping her jaw. “Now.”

“I never needed a safe word!” Y/N’s eyes were wide with shock as she stared up at him.

“Fine. Traffic light colors it is.” Rick wraps his hand around her neck, tongue delving into her mouth as they kiss.

Sloppy, messy. Like two teens making out for the first time. Teeth clashed all because he felt like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hips roll against hers, a grunt echoing in his throat. Y/N’s sharp moans drowned in his mouth, nails raking his back.

“Nasty bitch,” Rick pulls away, nipping at her jaw.

“Old fuck,” she snaps back, panting.

“You wanted to fuck an old man. Should we dive into those daddy issues now?” Rick grins down at her, eyes blazing.

“Talk your shit when you make me cum,” Y/N hissed back. “I know you can’t.”

Rick takes that as a challenge, grabbing a knife from his jeans. Her smirk falters, raising her brow. Knife play wasn’t off the table. Not one bit. But she wasn’t sure what the hell he was planning on doing with it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She watches as he twirls it between his fingers, flicking the blade out. “Rick–”

“Breathe, Y/N.” He hums, dragging the blade down her chest, sliding between her breasts. It didn’t break skin, he was sure of that. Just left a white line in its trail. He continues dragging it down, brushing against the hem of her panties. Her eyes widened significantly.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” she hisses. “These are my favorite–”

With a smirk, Rick slices open the fabric in two spots, making it fall off of her. Y/N was about to argue her teeth off until he pressed the flat side of the blade against her lips. No. Not her mouth. The cool metal made her thighs quiver.

“Rick…” She exhales his name in warning.

“I’ll make you a million identical panties,” his eyes roll, tossing the knife onto the front seat.

The feeling of the cold metal still lingers, muscles flexing. She lets out a breath of relief and disappointment. Not because of the panties. Because of the blade pressed against her plush skin. Rick smirks, looking up from her exposed cunt.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you enjoy kinky shit, baby.” Rick chuckles.

“Rick,” Y/N swallows thickly, her cheeks warming. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You’re blushing again,” Rick’s voice stays even as his fingers slide up and down between her lips, brushing against her clit with each stroke.

“F-fucking…fuck,” Y/N gasps, gripping the cushions of the seat. “Your fingers are cold..!”

“Your pussy’s not,” Rick smirks, a chuckle escaping him. “Nice and warm. Already so fuckin’ wet, baby.”

“Your fault,” she groans out, receiving a smack to her cunt. In turn, she moans sharply.

“Quite the mouth on you, brat. Can’t tell if I’m enjoying it or not,” Rick groans out, his dick twitching.

“Wouldn’t be much fun if I was easy, would it?” Y/N sighs.

“You have a point.”

Rick unzips his jeans, pushing everything off. He strokes himself slowly, sliding his middle finger between her folds. Y/N’s breath hitches as she props herself up on her elbows to watch. Rick focuses more on working his way into her, feeling around. His fingers find that spot, dragging a sharp gasp out of her.

“Feels good, baby?” He asks, his voice airy. “Found your little weakness, yeah?”

“Mhm,” her stomach clenched, his voice sending heat to her core.

“That’s my good girl,” Rick groans, sliding his ring finger in. He presses up into her g-spot, dragging those addictive noises out of her with ease as he moves his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion.

Y/N dug her heels into the seat, back arching towards him as she tried to control herself. Rick’s hand tightens around his length, watching her mouth fall open all because of him.

“Rick,” she moans out sweetly, “please…”

“Please, what?” Rick huffs out, pushing firmly against the spot making her fall apart right before him. “Use your words.”

“I need you,” Y/N forces out. “Fuck! Rick, I want to cum for you, you bastard!”

“Beg,” Rick pulls his fingers, shoving them into her mouth, “Nicely.”

Y/N’s eyes shoot open, her mouth enveloping his fingers. Her cheeks hollow around his digits, distracting him as her hand wraps around his cock. Rick hisses, hips jerking forward. His brows knit as he glares down, pressing her tongue down with his fingers.

“Fine. Brat wants to play?” Rick grins. He pulls her arm away from him and moves to hook his arms under her thighs.

“What are you–” Y/N yelps as he flips her over. He moves to lay on his back, pulling her to straddle his face. She looks down to see his cock twitching for attention and inhales a shuddering breath, finally getting a good look at it. He was awfully…above average. Just like his intelligence.

“I’m starving, you know that?” Rick grunts out, hands moving to smack her ass firmly. “So fucking hungry.”

“So am I,” Y/N whines, moving her head down to envelope him in her mouth.

Rick’s hips buck, pushing his cock further between her lips. He grips her hips, pulling her to sit on his face firmly. Not wanting to allow room for movement. She moaned, the sound reverberating around his cock. His lips encase her clit, sucking desperately.

His arms wrap around her hips, keeping her pinned down. He chuckles as he hears the cracking of the bones in her toes when they curl near him. Y/N continues to bob her head, savoring the slight salty taste from the precum smearing along her tongue. Rick presses her down to move his attention to the rest of her.

Y/N whimpers when his tongue penetrates her entrance. His hips roll up, fucking into her throat. Rick’s fingers grip her ass, massaging and smacking it. Back and forth, back and forth. It draws out strangled noises from her until she accepts his cock into her throat.

Y/N’s throat spasms around the tip of his cock, clamping down as it fights for oxygen. She forced herself to take more, gagging and choking on him. Just as she moves to come up for air, he buries his cock further. Y/N chokes on the white essence painting her throat, dripping to her mouth. His hips drop to the seat once more, never letting up on sucking down any liquid dripping out of her.

“R-Rick,” she whines, finally having downed his climax.

She earns a smack to her asscheek in response followed by him massaging the pain away. Y/N struggles to hold herself up, kitten-licking his tip to tease the twitching member below her. If he gets to overstimulate her, the least she could do was return the favor. Rick’s grip tightens on her asscheek, grunting against her.

“What’s wrong, old man?” She purrs.

Another smack, harder this time.

“Still struggling to make me cum?”

His arm swoops under her, pinching her nipple. She yelped, hips twitching over his face. Rick chuckles, moving his hand to push his fingers inside of her. A sigh of relief escapes her weakly, rocking back on his fingers and mouth. Before she can fully get used to it, he pulls his lubricated fingers out and presses against her ass, the tight muscle clenching in response.

Y/N’s eyes widen as chills coat her skin, “Rick! Do not!”

“Sweetheart, I’m claiming all of you eventually,” Rick pulls away just to tell her, rubbing against the ring of muscle.

“You…” Y/N’s cheeks flush.

“You’re blushing, baby,” Rick deduces before diving back into her cunt.

“I am not!” She shudders. Everything he was doing was sending her nerves into a wildfire.

A chuckle rattles from him, continuing his ministrations. Y/N’s stomach knots up as she grabs onto his thighs, trembling.

“R-Rick…” Y/N cries out as the tip of his finger presses into her ass.

His other hand massages her asscheek as a comforting gesture, not pressing further. Her muscles tense, teeth sinking into his thigh. He inhales sharply, pulling away his mouth.

“Y/N,” he groans, furrowing his brows. Masochist, much? He tells himself mentally.

“S-sorry,” she exhales, whining as he edged her without realizing it.

“Why’d you do that?” Rick pulls his hands away, moving her to sit beside him.

Once situated, she can’t look at him. Embarrassed. He picks up his jeans to wipe his hands before pulling her face to look at him.

“Why did you bite me?” Rick asks again, firmly this time.

“It’s a habit,” she attempts to push his hand off of her jaw.

“Habit?” Rick tilts his head curiously.

“I need to bite something when I cum,” Y/N forces out, turning her gaze to the stars.

Rick grins, yanking her to straddle his lap, “That’s fucking hot.”

“Hot?” Y/N stares at him in disbelief.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he grabs her by the hips, rubbing his cock in between her folds. “Need you to sink your teeth into me when you cum. Harder you bite, the better you’re feelin’, right?”

“Y-yeah,” her mouth falls open at the returning pleasure.

“Fuck yes,” he growls out, lifting her hips. “What’s your color, baby?”

“Bright fucking green,” she swallows, resting her arms on the seats behind her.

Rick groans at the angle, a hand running down her chest between the valley of her breasts. Down her stomach and to her cunt, rubbing her clit with his thumb. She sucks in a breath, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

“Can’t wait to feel you,” Rick mutters as he moves his cock to press against her entrance.

“Rick…” Y/N’s soft voice halts his movement, pulling his attention up to her nervous expression. “Can we go slow?”

“Are you a virgin?” Rick cocks a brow.

“No, but…” Y/N shrugs softly.

“You set the pace and I’ll handle the rest, baby,” Rick promises, holding his hand out below her jaw. “Spit.”

Y/N raises her brow, “What?”

“Just spit,” Rick rolls his eyes.

Y/N gathers what she can and spits, watching him coat his cock with it. She gulps, watching him push it against her cunt once more. He sucks in a sharp breath, slowly sinking into her.

“That’s a good girl,” Rick moans, watching his cock disappear into her.

“F-fuck,” Y/N’s head rolls back, chest heaving slowly.

“Wish you could see how hot you are, baby.” Rick murmurs, his eyes roving over her form spread out for him. “Taking me so well. So fucking gorgeous.”

“D-don’t…” Y/N keeps her head tilted back, her eyes hidden from him. Tears prick at her eyes, his words meaning a little too much. Feelings and Rick Sanchez did not fucking mix.

“What? Can’t handle a little praise?” Rick murmurs, hands massaging her hips lovingly.

“Shut it,” she whines, making it halfway onto his erection.

“Beautiful, beautiful girl,” Rick hums. “My good girl split open on my cock. All. Mine.”

Y/N’s heart hammers, her head rolling forward to look at him with teary eyes and parted lips, “Rick, stop.”

Rick doesn’t continue to push into her, staring at her with a raised brow, “What’s your color, Y/N?”

“Yellow,” she swallows harshly, looking away from him.

“Talk to me. Now.” Rick doesn’t move his hands from holding her up, refusing to go further.

“You’re giving me mixed signals. As soon as you get your rocks off, we’ll go home and you’ll never talk to me again until you need something,” Y/N forces out, counting stars.

Rick stays quiet for a moment. He just watches her before a soft chuckle escapes him. “Idiot.”

“Fuck you, old man.” She snaps.

“Shut up and listen to me.” He huffs, a grin painted on his face. And she does as he proceeds to slowly bottom out as he speaks.

“I told you I’d claim you. Every inch, every hole, every fucking breath you take, Y/N. You are mine. Whether you realize it or not, you are. I claimed you the moment your little fuckin’ brain even thought of me. This cunt? Mine. Tits? Mine. This fuckin face?” Rick grabs her face, fingers pressing into her cheeks, and makes her look him in the eye. “Mine. And I’ll claim your body while claiming every inch of your soul, baby. I’ll make sure I linger in your brain even after I die. You’re a fucking idiot if you ever think otherwise.”

Y/N doesn’t speak, allowing him to continue his rant. She just leans into him, her arms wrapping around his neck loosely.

“Pretty little mouth,” he keeps his grip on her face, his breath fanning across her skin. “You were made for me. And I will be your fucking God.”

Rick pulls her against him firmly, molding their bodies to fit perfectly. He releases her face and crashes his lips against hers. Y/N moans, feeling his hand tangle in her hair. She returns the favor, hand lingering at the nape of his neck. He starts to move her hips ever so slowly, not giving her an ounce of control until she was ready for it.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles against her lips. “What’s your color?”

“Green,” she shudders, clinging to him.

“Set the pace, baby. Tell me,” Rick squeezes her hip gently.

“A little harder,” Y/N moves to rest her head against his shoulder.

Rick nods, keeping a languid pace. He thrusts into her firmly, snapping into her. His head rests on the back of the seat, eyes closed as he enjoys the way her walls flutter and squeeze around him desperately. Her soft moans against his skin encouraged him further, his cock twitching inside of her.

“Little faster,” Y/N whispers, embarrassment clear in her voice.

“Good girl,” Rick chuckles softly, bouncing her body on him at an average pace. “If Heaven was real, you would be it. The way you feel would be it. Fuck, even your smell…”

Y/N shudders as he buries his face in her hair and inhales. She decided to control her hips, riding him as she clung to him desperately. Rick grins against her, hands moving to massage her thighs.

“There you go, baby,” he purrs against her. “Take control. Take what’s yours.”

“Mine,” her voice surprises him. The way it was so…raw. He meets her movements, his hips snapping into her roughly.

“Yeah? Show me I’m yours, baby. Fuckin–nngh–take it,” Rick growls.

Her teeth sink into the seat behind him, muffling her moans. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, pulling her back by a fistful of her hair. She whines, jaw clenched.

“I fuckin’ told you to bite me, dammit,” Rick hisses, pressing her mouth to his shoulder. “Bite. Now.”

Y/N moans weakly, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. A guttural sound rips from him, drilling into her roughly. The harder his thrusts, the harder she bit down. Overwhelmed tears slipped from her eyes as she bit harder, desperate for release. His cock filled her just right, her body spasming against him. It dragged against her sweet spot, slamming against her cervix. Her eyes were threatening to cross.

“Cum for me, baby,” Rick growls against her ear right before he bites into her bicep.

A sharp cry escapes her, sending her tipping over the edge. Her walls fluttered and milked him dry as he buried himself to the hilt, grinding against her. Her vision blacked as the pleasure drowned her, sobs wracking her as it overwhelmed her. Rick’s voice was muddled as she came down from her high after a minute.

“Baby, color,” Rick pulls her back just enough to look her in the face with worry.

“Gr-green,” she pants, lips swollen.

“Jesus, you fucking scared me,” he deflates, pulling her back into his arms.

“S-sorry,” she trembles, relaxing against him.

Rick buries his hand in her hair and relaxes, keeping them together as they come down from cloud nine. He stares up at the stars, not a thought on his brain. Peace. He could understand why she stared at the sky so much. It was almost as beautiful as her. Almost, but not quite.

Y/N sighs deeply, murmuring against his neck, “Do we…go home now?”

“Yeah, baby,” he tells her softly.

Y/N groans as they separate, weakly tugging her clothes on. Rick tugs on his jeans and his shirt, climbing into the front seat. Y/N follows, only to be yanked into his lap. His expression is neutral but the look in his eyes gave away a possessive aura. Y/N bit back a smile as she laid her head on his shoulder, legs draped across to the other seat.

The ride home was quiet as she fell in and out of sleep in his lap. Rick put the ship in auto pilot, leaning back to hold her until they arrived home. Y/N sighed softly. The ship turned off, turning the windows back to normal. He keeps a firm grip on her even as Morty and Summer walk out to the garage. Amusement ghosted his face as he saw the shock written on their faces.

“Oops,” Rick murmured as he opened the door, throwing Y/N over his shoulder.

“Rick..?” Morty’s voice echoed through the garage.

“Shut up, Morty,” Rick ignored the shock and questioning stares from his grandkids and walked inside. Ah, fuck. Jerry was home.

“Rick, what the hell are you doing with my niece?!” His angered tone made Y/N move her head to peer at him.

“Shut up, Jerry,” Rick sneered. “This isn’t some fuckin’ incest thing.”

“Uh. It kind of is!” Jerry placed his hands on his hips as Summer and Morty walked in.

“Actually,” Y/N cleared her throat, huffing as Rick put her down. “No, it’s not.”

“It–” Jerry started, but was quickly cut off.

“I’m not even blood-related to you,” Y/N blurts out, the blood slowly draining from her face. “Even if I was, it still isn’t…you know.”

“What?” Three voices asked quickly.

“I did a DNA test and well, I’m nowhere near related to Jerry,” she sighs. “Purely adopted.”

Rick shrugs, taking a swig of his flask before leaning against the wall, crossing his arms. Summer and Morty don’t look as bothered as Jerry did. Y/N looks away, avoiding his weirdly upset gaze. Rick grabs her arm, pulling her along. Rick Sanchez and feelings from irrelevant people didn’t mix.

“Rick!”      “Grandpa!”

They call out to him.

“Nope!” He ignores them, pulling her to his bedroom.

Y/N doesn’t make a sound until he locks the door behind them.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not in the least bit curious or–”

“I already knew technically.”

“How?”

“Cause you’re smoking hot. And helluva lot smarter.”

archive of our own: aanxiousangel

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

The people must know about Primarch dentition.

I like to imagine that

Dorn and Perty have straight teeth. They both, without realizing the other was doing it, filed their teeth down and reshaped them by grinding into perfectly flat squares. Later Perty replaced or coated his with metal.

Guilliman’s teeth: unbelievably straight. You know the scene in Rick and Morty where he makes a truly level surface? That’s how straight his teeth are. He’s a creature of genetic perfection who voluntarily got braces. Largely just because he likes to invest in dental hygiene and wanted to show how much he believed in it.

Mortarions teeth: not rotted, until daemon princehood at least. Actually even as he fell to chaos I like to think his teeth were just flat, slate grey before rotting all at once on ascension.

Corvus: bright white teeth but extremely dark gums and tongue. Looks unhealthy from a distance.

Lorgar: charming. Everything about his mouth from the expression to the shape to how much tooth is showing and how white it is, all designed to get you to trust him. Like a used car salesman or a priest who is so incredibly good at his job that even knowing, you can’t help being a little convinced.

Konrad: shark teeth. Uneven but sharp triangles. Probably serrated like those of a Great White. Not cared for, old meat (is that a wedding ring?), smells vile, but the expressions all have potential for nobility.

Russ: slightly yellow, with big canines. Not just long, big. Bigger than that. Not cartoonish, but big enough that it subtly changes the shape of his lips when his mouth is closed. The teeth next to the canines are also sharp.

Sanguinius: very white, very red gums and tongue. Like pearls on red velvet. Lower canines are very slightly longer and sharper than normal, uppers are long and slender: knives compared to Russ’s railroad spikes. They don’t change shape or length but something about his expression when enraged or bloodthirsty suddenly draws attention to them.

Fulgrim: originally flawless. If Lorgar’s smile is a con of trustworthiness, Fulgrim’s simply looks like and does exactly what he wants it to do. It’s dazzling, flexible, frequently and effectively used for many purposes. After ascension it’s the same but even more: every expression is SO perfect that it’s slightly unsettling, even as the beauty enraptures you. However the tongue is long and forked, the jaw can stretch like it’s unhinged, the canines are sharp and thin, and hidden long fangs flick down from the roof of the mouth like those of a viper. Of course he’s a daemon so the amount and shape of teeth may vary with mood

Thank you for letting the people know about primarch dentition, and for the thought you’ve put into primarch dentition.

Fulgrim’s teeth definitely do vary with mood. In fact, if you manage to properly startle him, his teeth all retract and his scales ruffle up at the same time. It’s not really… nice to look at, exactly, but it is quite funny.

[sheriffgrimes-archerdixon]

Practice makes perfect

Request: please could you write one where Rick helps inexperienced reader shoot a gun and he also teaches her how to defend herself? Thank you!

A/N: hope this is okay!! Would you all like to see a daryl version of this??

Rick grimes x fem! Reader

You were new to the prison environment, you had stumbled upon the prison when you had lost your people to the dead. It was terrifying but thankfully Rick grimes and his people welcomed you in with open arms— or… well. Held at gunpoint. But that’s beside the point. You had been here for almost 18 days now and you were fitting in just right. You had found comfort within Hershel the kind man who seemed to be incredibly loyal and genuine. Not to mention his kindness towards everything was gratefully accepted during times like these. Beth too was a sweet girl but there were a few of the group who seemed a bit rough around the edges. Not that you minded of course, you were just glad you could say you had some kind of “friends.”

Here you were positioned near the gate where walkers were pressing themselves against, ruthlessly clawing at the metal structure desperate for the taste of flesh. You stood silently staring and listening to their groans and moans your hand numbly gripping onto the pistol that dangled by your side. It might’ve seemed stupid but you had never shot a gun in your life. And now that you were in this situation you wished you had accepted the many times family members offered to take you to the shooting range when the world was still normal. You exhaled shaking your head before you pointed your gun at one of the walkers heads, squinting your eyes slightly your finger resting upon the trigger as you tried to figure out how to do it, footsteps slowing just behind you— ricks scrutinising eyes examined you thoroughly before he cleared his throat. “The safety’s one” his thick accent touched your ears and you quickly glanced at him “what?” You murmured nervously “the safety’s on. That’s why you can’t pull the trigger.” He vaguely explained taking steps towards you before stopping beside you, slender fingers grasping onto the metal of the gun as he stood side by side with you his arm brushing lightly against yours “look,” he tilted the gun your way his thumb brushing against the metal before a click was heard “safety’s off now.” He spoke before slowly handing it back to you. “Try now.”

He took a step back giving you room to try but now under this much pressure you felt your nerves kick in. You were worried that because you didn’t know how to shoot a gun without looking like an idiot you’d be seen as someone lesser and be kicked out the group. But really that was just your over thinking. You hesitantly pointed the gun towards a specific walker Rick remaining silent as he observed you fingertips lightly brushing against the handle of his own gun it was just engraved into his mind to constantly do just in case he had to pull it on anyone or anything at any point. You couldn’t ever be too careful… you glanced back at him momentarily he was hard to read, you then looked forward again steadying your breath as you attempted it. And with one last deep breath you pulled the trigger the bullet flying through the air and zipping straight past the walkers a silent cuss leaving your lips as you shook your head embarrassed. “Not bad.” Rick spoke calmly, as if noting your anxious state and how you seemed to be slightly apprehensive about shooting the gun. He took a step towards you stopping beside you “have you ever shot a gun before?” He questioned and you glanced at him before shaking your head “no. I didn’t like using guns when the world was normal…” you murmur nervously and he only nods. “That’s understandable” he soon comments “I was a sheriff in Atlanta before all of this.” Rick began talking, your eyes snapping back towards him as you listened to him silently admiring him his jaw slightly clenching every now and then his baby blue eyes holding many memories within them. His eyes moved to look at you “so I was all involved in guns and protecting myself and my people.” He spoke as if trying to make you more comfortable. Opening up little by little…

“My wife…. She hated the thought of our son using guns. She refused to let him near them. Even when I offered to train him up for if anything ever happened she wouldn’t let him… even when the world went to shit… she wouldn’t let him touch a gun…” he analysed you as he spoke “until I convinced her enough… I wish I had held back slightly..” he swallowed thickly glancing down at the ground as he remembered the thought of Carl shooting his own mum. If Rick hadn’t of taught him how to shoot a gun then would Carl of shot Lori? It was a question left for speculation. No one truly knew. But Rick did feel guilt when he thought on it really hard… that’s why he tried to push it all down. Keeping it all at the back of his brain. “So I get where you’re coming from. But knowing how to shoot a gun now is… something we all need.” He spoke simply turning his back to you momentarily before he pulled his own gun out the sun reflecting off of the metal slightly making it glint every now and then “just copy my stance alright.” He spoke and you nodded watching as he put one foot forwards the other foot remaining in place almost as if he was bracing himself before he held the gun with two hands— one on the handle and trigger the other cupping it slightly as if to keep it stable. “Holding with both hands isn’t absolutely necessary but holding it with both hands keeps your focus and hands from shaking.” Rick explained and you nodded watching as he shot the gun the bullet immediately piercing the skull of the dead as it collapsed onto the ground. “Your turn.”

He spoke before backing away, and you exhaled shakily breathing in sharply as you attempted to copy his exact positioning slowly raising your gun until it was eye level with you both your hands steadying the gun “like this?” You murmured nervously Rick moving to your side his hands grabbing onto your elbow slightly “tilt” he suggested calmly making you tilt your arm ever so slightly before he moved behind you resting your hands on your shoulders knowing the force of the gun was far too powerful sometimes. He kept his hands on your shoulders “focus…” he advised gently and you nodded focusing as hard as you could. You inhaled sharply lining up the gun more straight before pulling the trigger the bullet piercing through a walkers shoulder “good. You’re getting there.” Rick praised before he reached forwards grabbing onto your hands as he positioned your hands more correctly “just remember they’re dead. Okay?” He spoke almost as if reading your mind. Knowing that you were struggling with the fact that these were once human beings. Just like you and him. “But they…” you swallowed thickly not knowing how to describe it, Rick maintaining eye contact with you “look at it this way y/n…. They don’t feel anything. They only have one job and one job only. Successfully get the food they’re constantly searching for. It’s a cycle… a painful cycle. If you shoot them you’re putting them out of their misery right?” He was right and eventually you nodded. You still needed to detach the people from the actual walkers and whom they once were but that would be a learning curve. “Alright shoot.” He spoke and you took a deep breath before squinting your eyes and once steadying your hands you shot the gun the smell of gunpowder growing stronger but you didn’t mind. You watched as the bullet pierced into the dead’s skull as it collapsed to the ground,

“Good. Again.” He spoke. The sun was starting to set and Rick knew it wouldn’t be long before more walkers started arriving. You then lined up the gun again before shooting the bullet again successfully hitting the Walker square in the head. You continued doing this over and over again until the clouds had turned a deep orangey colour rain specs starting to fall upon you and him “you did great.” Rick spoke with a faint smile “you’re going to be a pro at this soon enough. Gonna put us to shame.” He murmured nudging you playfully and you couldn’t help but smile slightly “thank you… could we do this again tomorrow?” Rick nodded slightly “sure. I’ll get you up at 7 am sharp.” He spoke and you nodded smiling as you began walking back towards the main area of the prison with him. “After all practice makes perfect.” He chuckled out lightly you could tell that helping you practice had alleviated something off of his shoulders and mind… and the same was said for you.

You walked inside with him some people eating some food and others already sleeping “I’m going to go to my cell.” You murmured and Rick nodded “goodnight. Sleep well. If you need anything just shout.” He spoke and you nodded watching as he began walking away. “Rick..” you spoke, making him stop as he turned to look at you Judith being handed to him as he held onto her securely his free hand skilfully putting his gun back onto safety “thank you. Seriously. Uh… you saved a girls life.” You spoke, Rick looking slightly confused but appreciative. “I lost my people. To the walkers…. I was close to just waiting for another herd to come take me down… you and your people gave me a reason to live.” The look on ricks face was difficult to read but he looked grateful, happy and somewhat relieved all at once. “Glad you’re still with us, y/n.” He gave you a nod lips curling up into a small smile. “Go get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” He gave you another curt nod before turning around tending to his daughter and you silently watched him before retreating back to your bunk a small sad smile forming on your lips— grateful for him and his people who had given you a reason to survive. You got into your bunk laying down as you began getting comfortable until you heard a slight creek before the familiar teenage boy was hanging over the top bunk “hey y/n” Carl spoke cowboy hat barely staying on and you smiled tiredly at him “hey.” He then disappeared momentarily before coming back continuing to dangle off the bed “don’t fall…” you warned with a tired smile and he only smiled holding out a red packeted chocolate bar for you to take. “Just in case you were hungry.” He spoke not letting up until you had taken it from him before he laid back down on the top bunk “thanks carl.” You spoke hearing the sound of pages turning and you smiled knowing he was reading his comic… what a thoughtful boy… a thoughtful group whom you didn’t deserve in the slightest. But you knew they’d continue over and over again giving you a reason to live.

[chandlersfuneral]

time baby i

carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: possessive fem!reader, caregiving fem!reader, carl grimes x reader, black cat fem!reader, fluff, kissing, aged up characters (no specific age but i'm not writing about minors), platonic to romantic relationship between reader and carl, childhood friends to lovers.

read time baby here!

*set in alexandria but frequent flashbacks to earlier times in the apocalypse like the quarry, prison, and early alexandria.*

the kiss carl planted on your glossed lips came as a complete and utter surprise. but you weren’t mad, you couldn’t be mad. this is something you've wanted from him since you were a kid. you've wanted this since you first started following him around like a little kitten at the quarry.

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carl heard the small tippy taps of your sandals like a puppy's paws slamming on hardwood floors. he was on a mini hunt in the quarry. it wasn't an actual hunt, he was just playing around in the woods looking for little trinkets. but you wanted to be apart of anything he was doing. "heyy carl, whaddya doin?" you asked, standing behind him, twirling your dark hair that were in little braids.

"not much, lia. just on a hunt my dad gave me." carl replied with his head buried in some bushes. he was just digging around. carl was digging around for a long time. you were totally okay with digging around in the bushes and dirt. you would do anything as long as you could stick around with carl.

eventually he found a cheap gold necklace. carl had no idea it was cheap; he thought he won the jackpot. the necklace is gold plated, the base copper. with a tiny tiny ruby placed delicately on a flat copper plate. carl was none the wiser.

“i knew i’d find something!” carl beamed with excitement, holding up this bush treasure.

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your lips were entangled in carl’s, you opened your mouth inviting his tongue to dance with yours. a soft, quiet whimper escaped which made carl giggle. the sounds the two of you made bounced off each other’s mouths. this is what you’ve dreamt of day and night, and you sure as hell weren’t going to pull away now. not now, with carl’s plush lips on yours, his hands on your chest, and your hands gliding all over his slender, tone stomach.

carl’s hand traveled lightly to your lower neck area, twirling the same beat up gold and ruby necklace in his fingers. once he felt the familiar jewelry, all the memories came flooding back. back to when he gave the necklace to you. back to when you followed him everywhere like a cute little kitty just begging for carl’s attention.

“you still wear this, huh?” carl didn’t want to, but he pulled away from your blushed red lips to ask his dire question.

his question made you blush, but you also blushed at the fact that there was a slight string of saliva connecting you two for a moment.

you and carl were so entranced in your little make-out session that you didn’t notice rick standing in the doorway of the kitchen. with his arms crossed firmly over his chest as he clears his throat comically loud.

the presence of rick scared the both of you, clearly because y’all looked extremely guilty. carl’s hand dangerously close to your chest and yours resting on carl’s naked waist.

“carl, go upstairs and put some clothes on. lia, go home please.” rick sighed, pulling his tactical belt away from his waist. he didn't have to tell you twice, you grabbed your bag and bolted out the front door of the grimes home. slamming the door behind you.

carl scrambled to grab his articles of clothing, he even tried to pull them over his head with his hat still on. "i..i can explain-" rick cut off his son as quick as he could. "you don't have to explain anything to me right now. please just go put on a shirt and come back." carl's father waved him off with a shake of his hand.

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when carl came downstairs, wearing a brand new t-shirt, he saw his father sweeping up his brown locks of hair. "you don't have to do that, dad. i'm sorry." carl felt extremely embarrassed. rick has asked him on several occasions if rick himself or someone else could cut his hair and without a doubt, carl would always say no.

"no, son, don't apologize for this." rick continued to sweep up the hair without making eye contact with carl. "dad... it was just a kiss."

"a shirtless kiss?" rick stopped sweeping and giggled, finally looking up at carl. "i don't care what you do, you're not a kid. but you can't be doing this kind of stuff right in the middle of my kitchen. not where i have to witness it."

carl made a giant sigh of relief. he also knew he wasn't a kid, but this was rick's house. and he was having a shirtless make out with a girl he really liked.

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n/a: hey guys! i meant to finish this ages ago but i have so much going on between these next few weeks. i hope you guys enjoy and i hope to put out more soon.

ALSO, i am really corny when it comes to story titles, so the title of time baby is based off of the song time baby iii by medicine which is in my favorite movie the crow 1994. if you'd like to listen, listen here.

tags: @slaughterlils666 let me know if you wanna be tagged in time baby ii.