so i finished it! proud as hell to present the grossest thing i've ever written, pleaseee heed the tags (screenshot under the cut) <3
Rick can feel it, still, stumbling off the couch and onto his knees like he had been for Negan when they’d first met. Barbed wire, dragged slow and sensual over his body. Pin-prick scratches on his back, his stomach, his legs. Rick breathes hard and makes himself meet Negan’s eyes. “I think about you hittin’ me with her, sometimes,” he says, casually as he can.
explicit • 8.2k • 1/1
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
at long last, that "at least one thing" i'm gonna post before starting on the kiss the whip sequel is up... teen! rick & shane getting high together, from yours truly. tags under the cut <3
For just as long as it takes him to breathe in once, Rick lets himself fantasize about how it’d feel if Shane leaned down and kissed him now, lips on his neck or the side of his face or against Rick’s own if he titled his head just right so Shane could reach. He exhales out his nose and blames it on the drugs.
mature • 7.4k • 1/1
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
sneak peek of my rick x negan age gap fic <3 this is the first draft of a scene from way later on, but i wanted to share something bc i'm obsessed w this au.
tags: age gap, crossdressing/feminization, infidelity, no zombies au
rating: teen and up audiences (some mild nudity & making out)
word count: 1.8k
a tiny bit of context: i don't have set ages yet, but rick is in his 20s and negan is in his 40s (loosely). rick & lori are married, while lucille has been dead for a few years. rick & shane are still best friends.
The door swings open with squeaking hinges and a clatter as it bangs into the wall, sure to leave another one of those dents Rick has spent longer than he’d care to admit counting. He’s not able to stop himself from flinching back at the loud noise, but there’s nothing angry about it. It’s just Negan — overenthusiastic, confident, and making his presence known as obnoxiously as he can. Rick tells himself to calm down as he sinks, gradually, back into the ratty far end of the couch.
“I’m home!” Negan’s announcing, as loud as the door had been, the second he sets foot inside. He’s weighed down by multiple bags on each arm, and kicks the door shut behind him with mud-coated boots that would’ve sent Lori into a fit. There’s something endearing about it, and Rick can’t help himself when he starts giggling. Negan drops all but one of his bags and turns, a huge grin breaking over his face like he hadn’t realized Rick was so nearby.
“Rick,” he says, syrupy-sweet. “Hey, honey.”
“Hi.” Rick’s not sure why, but he thinks he might be blushing. His knees are tugged up to his chest — have been practically since he sat down — and he feels small, somehow.
“I got you something,” Negan says, still grinning. “Think you’ll like it. C’mere.”
Rick stands, crosses the room to Negan. The old floorboards creak underneath him, even just in socks. He’d never be able to leave Negan’s house quietly, or duck out of the bedroom to sit with the lights on without waking him. He still does that, sometimes, with Lori, when he can’t stand the dark well enough to sleep and thinks he’ll drive himself insane otherwise. She’s given up on trying to fix it.
Negan leans down to press a kiss to his mouth the second Rick’s within his reach. The hand that’s not holding the bag finds its way to the small of Rick’s back and holds him close. It’s intimate, more so than it should be, but Rick presses up onto his toes for more anyway.
“Here,” Negan says almost before he’s fully parted lips with Rick, pressing the bag into Rick’s chest. There’s a glint to his eyes like he’s excited as hell about whatever it is that he’s gotten Rick, and Rick thinks that’s something he should maybe be wary of, but it’s too infectious of a thing for him to mull it over long.
Rick opens the bag, and inside there’s- He feels a flutter of some unnamable thing inside his chest as he carefully lifts out the dress. He should laugh, probably. Admonish Negan, too — a quick, “You’re an idiot, what the fuck?” would get the job done, and then Negan would start laughing too and they could put the dress back in the bag, return it, and never talk about it again. He knows that. He knows that, but…
It’s a pretty thing. Simple. Plain, soft white. It might fit loosely, even on him. It’d probably fall to around his knees. Rick’s heart is racing.
He forces his eyes up to meet Negan’s, and the seriousness that he finds in them is oddly comforting. He’s still smiling, but it’s much smaller now, just for Rick. Rick’s thumb rubs, thoughtfully, over the material, and Negan licks his lips. It’s getting hard to breathe.
“So?” Negan murmurs, voice rough. “What’s the verdict?”
“I-”
Rick hesitates. His head’s swimming. Shane would be so fucking… mean, if he found out. He’d laugh and tease him and that little furrow between his eyebrows would be there the whole time, saying what his words wouldn’t, that he didn’t fucking understand. He wonders if Lori would still be able to even look at him.
“I like it.”
Negan’s smile widens ‘till Rick wonders if it might crack his face in two. “Good,” he says, emphatically, like he already knows the struggle going on inside Rick. “I thought you would. You wanna try it on?”
Rick nods before he can back out, but his legs fail him as he tries to turn and go into the bathroom to change. It’s just clothes, he tells himself, over and over in his head. It doesn’t mean anything. But Negan’s looking at him like he wants to devour him whole, and he keeps remembering the girls he’d gone to school with — Lori included — in something similar, and he knows that it’s not true.
“Um-”
“It’s okay,” Negan says, before Rick can even get a word out. “It’s just us.”
He kisses Rick again, lightly, and then moves to shut the blinds at the window over the couch. He fiddles for a moment with his keys at the door, but eventually gets it locked, and then he’s back before Rick. His hands rub tender circles into Rick’s shoulders, and Rick huffs out a heavy breath, nearly a laugh. “Thank you,” he says, quietly.
Negan hums out an acknowledgement, pressing his lips to Rick’s chin so the sound vibrates off his skin. His beard scratches on Rick’s skin as he kisses down the length of his neck, and Rick shudders against him. His eyes are falling shut as he thinks again just how different it is being with Negan than with Lori, that he can barely even compare the two as Negan’s hand cradles his hip, big enough to cover nearly the entirety of him.
Rick can’t help laughing when Negan’s other hand sets about working his shirt open, and then pushing it off and onto the floor. Negan pulls back to smile at him, and he says, unabashedly, “I wanna see you in that damn dress, baby.”
“Yeah,” Rick agrees while Negan’s hands start unbuckling his belt and tugging it off him. Even the cracks of light still slipping through the blinds are enough to make him feel shy, but Negan’s right that it really is just them — and for as much as he knows that he shouldn’t, Rick wants to try it on, too.
He passes the dress back to Negan to unbutton his own jeans and leave them on the floor, and it’s only then that he starts to feel exposed stripped down to his socks and boxers while Negan stands fully clothed. It makes him remember, somehow, the years that Negan has on him — Rick takes in the salt-and-pepper of his hair and lines on his face, tries and fails to breathe normally. He feels less than Negan, in almost every way, and it almost certainly shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. But Negan looks at him, still, like he’s his entire damn world, and it’s sick but Rick’s never felt more himself as he steps closer so Negan can slide the dress onto his body.
He touches Rick, gently, as he does it, hands moving with the material to straighten it to Rick’s form. He bends down to tug at the base of it, just above Rick’s knees, so it doesn’t bunch up. His fingers run calloused laps against Rick’s shoulders and armpits as he fixes the straps. The little touches are the only thing keeping Rick anchored as he feels the light fabric, so different from what he’s used to, against his skin. He worries that if he breathes wrong he’ll start to panic.
But once Negan’s satisfied with the way the dress sits on Rick’s body, he steps back from him, and Rick doesn’t feel any different. He stands, almost frozen in place, for a minute or two while Negan watches, and then finally it hits him that this isn’t going to get any worse. That this isn’t bad, either. He takes a deep, shaky breath, and his muscles relax in waves.
It feels- it actually feels good. He stretches, carefully. Looks down at himself, shyly. The dress is comfortable. He doesn’t think it looks too awkward on him, either, actually. Before he knows it he’s smiling, and then covering his mouth as he starts laughing. Shane and Lori might not have liked it, sure, but… Rick does.
“You look so good, Rick.” Negan’s voice is soft, like he really means it. Rick meets his eyes and all he sees is affection. “Seriously, I’m gonna pop a boner just from lookin’ at you, baby.”
Rick snorts. “Yeah, right, at your fuckin’ age.”
Negan grins, comes back to kiss Rick hard. Rick’s arms slide around his back to hug him as he does, and he stays there a while after he breaks the kiss. “Thank you,” he says again, means it more than he maybe should. “I really do like it.”
“Shit, honey, you’re hardly the only one gettin’ something out of this,” Negan replies, hands running up and down Rick’s bare arms and then moving to touch the skin of his back. “You wanna see yourself?”
“I think so,” Rick says, and he’s not certain because this is still right at the fucking edge of being way too damn scary, but he is curious.
“Good,” Negan says, again, and tugs at his arm to drag him to the bathroom. The light buzzes and flickers when he turns it on, and one of the tiles crunches menacingly under Negan’s boot, but he pulls Rick around in front of him and suddenly all Rick can think about is his reflection.
It’s… different than he thought it might be, he supposes. He still looks the damn same: his face, his eyes, his hair, his body. The dress is obviously meant for someone with breasts and a thinner waist than his, but Negan’d picked something that doesn’t look too bad, even so. He can’t decide what he thinks of the way it actually looks on him, though, the two put together. It definitely doesn’t seem instant-boner-inducing like Negan’d proclaimed, but Rick hadn’t expected it would. He studies the broad expanse of his shoulders carefully, the contrast of the thin straps. It doesn’t make him feel sick, either. He’s just not fucking sure.
Negan loops his arms around Rick’s waist, though, and rests his chin against one shoulder, and taking in their reflections together, both at once, Rick’s hit with such a powerful rush of arousal that he makes up his damn mind straight away. He likes the dress. He likes it a fuck of a lot, church girl white under Negan’s black leather jacket and the one glove that rests possessively against his side. They look- a little funny, maybe, together, but Rick can’t think of anything he’s ever liked quite as much. Negan kisses his cheek, and Rick sees in the mirror that his attention hasn’t once left Rick. He watches them a moment longer, how much older and rougher Negan really looks than him, the gentle way the dress lays on Rick’s skin — and then turns to clutch at Negan’s hair and kiss him again, too.
@ everyone who liked my last post... it's up! 4k of rick grimes getting chewed on like a dog toy, brought to you by yours truly. heed the tags (screenshot below the cut) <3
Rick pulls Negan closer and grips hard at his jacket, inhaling blood and leather and sweat, and wishes that he could exist inside Negan's skin.
explicit • 4.2k • 1/1
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works