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Ron rocks on her heels, watching Carl from the doorway. The other girl has her back to her, leaning over a bucket in the sink. She was squeezing cold bloody water out of a pair of jeans, grunting softly with the effort. Ron’s honestly surprised Carl hasn’t noticed her, hasn’t noticed her front door was unlocked and left a little ajar, usually the other girl was on hyperalert (with a gun at the ready).
Ron can smell the tang of blood in the air and she licks her lips, watching Carl stand in nothing but her shirts and (presumably) panties. Her flannel is too damn long, obstructing Ron’s view of her ass but just the sight of her long pale legs has heat pooling in Ron’s lower abdomen, her cunt throbbing .
She’d spotted Carl leaving Olivia’s earlier. Her cheeks a little red as the older woman waved her off, a cute floral tote bag slung over her arm. Ron had sat up from where she’d been laying in the grass, just staring until Carl was out of sight. Every woman would know that bag, typical apocalypse bullshit, all the food and guns they could want for, at least for a few years, but a piss-poor collection of pads and tampons that dwindled to nothing in less than a year.
So now you’d go grab a tote bag from Olivia full of home-sewn terry cloth pads and ruin the pretty pinks and blues with blood. Enid said washing them out was gross, had joked about it being as close to being ‘ outside ’ Ron was ever going to get. She’d laughed a little, but god sometimes Enid was full of shit. Why should she be sorry that she got lucky?
And Enid really wasn’t as fucked up as she liked to act, she’d balked when Ron had casually mentioned she kind of thought period blood smelled good. Her pretty little nose had scrunched up in disgust and she’d actually had the gall to shift sideways, putting space between them. Ron had laughed it off but inside she’d been fuming and frustrated.
She’d been careful, nothing too weird. Not gone on to say the scent made her hungry, how she liked to stick her fingers inside her cunt and suck them clean. How the thick blood felt so right caught on the top of her tongue.
She stalks forwards, takes careful cautious steps across the room, as silently as she can. Red-tinged water drips steadily into the bucket, clings to Carl’s pale hands like beads. She feels like a shark, pictures a trail of blood across the linoleum tiles, dripping down Carl’s pretty legs. She wants to laugh, wants to say something cutting about how oblivious the other girl is.
Instead Ron reaches out and grabs Carl’s shoulders, takes advantage of the split-second of surprise and confusion to shove her down. Carl slams her face into the edge of the counter, a choked grunt escaping as she flounders and Ron finds it’s not all that hard to get her on the floor, to twist her onto her back.
She spits and kicks and flails of course, fighting her like a wild thing. Ron’s captivated by the blood smearing, she’s got a bloody nose and it’s so fucking pretty. Bright crimson already messily dripping over her lips and down her chin. She wants to follow it with her tongue. Instead she pins Carl to the floor, stares down into the narrowed angry eyes. “Hey Carl.”
Carl glares up at her, “what the hell are you doing?” And then she winces, head falling back against the tiles. She hisses in a sharp breath through her teeth. “Get off me.” Her hands aren’t half as coordinated as they’d usually be, Ron can feel how clumsy her movements are and she grins, all shark teeth.
“Oh did you hit your head? Poor baby,” she can’t keep the amused snort out of her voice, wondering if the other girl is actually concussed or something. The idea The Great Carl, killer of walkers and daughter to the biggest dick in town, got taken out by a kitchen counter is just too fucking funny. Carl’s hands shove at her and she tugs her down, the brunette’s head bumping into the cabinet as she’s forced onto her back.
“Fuck off Ron!” Carl bucks under her, trying to get her off and Ron grunts as she straddles the younger girl. She’s not heard Carl curse before and it sends a tingle of excitement through her. She likes ticking the other girl off, it’s hard to properly get a reaction from her. Right now though, her soft lips are curled in a snarl, her eyes glaring so viciously up at her. The blood from her nosebleed is congealing, thick around her nostrils.
Ron giggles and gives into the urge, figuring what the hell. Carl lets out a confused “wha-?” that cuts off into a disgusted sound as she leans down and licks her. Follows that trail of blood on her neck up to her mouth and Carl splutters, squirming under her as she licks over her upper lip all the way to her nose. She’s half-tempted to fuck with the other girl even more, poke the tip of her tongue into one nostril, just to make Carl squeak.
Instead she pulls back and swirls the blood in her mouth, tasting her. Carl’s blood isn’t really all that different from the flavor of her own but the novelty of having it in her mouth is heady. Carl stares up at her, eyes wide and her mouth opens, no doubt to state how gross Ron is.
Ron spits bloody saliva into her mouth before she can. Laughs when Carl splutters, urgently trying to twist her head and spit it out. She can’t fully, not on her back, and instead it messily smears down her cheek, into her hair. Carl whips her head back, hands shoving at her, “get the hell off me right now and maybe I won’t tell my dad.”
Ron snorts, “yeah, you gonna go run crying to daddy? Maybe I should too-oh wait,” she pauses, leans closer until they’re practically nose to nose, until their hot breaths are mixing. “I can't, can I? Your prick of a dad fucking murdered him.”
Carl has the decency to flinch, at least for a split-second before she’s trying to knee Ron in the stomach. She’s still a little clumsy, a wobble to her movements that belies just how hard she hit her head. It lets the anger bleed into frustrated want again, Ron pinning her down to the ground. “I told you, I’m sorry he’s dead but-ngh!” She cuts Carl’s snarky response with a hard push to her lower abdomen, enjoying the agonized grunt the younger girl lets out.
She wonders how tender and sore Carl is, she’s got to be one of those girls that tries to hide she feels her cramps at all, wanting to appear all badass. Ron almost wants to hit her again, see how many pained noises she can get. Instead she smirks and slides downwards. “Don’t move, your dad might have a grip on Deanna, but I’ve been here longer and more people will believe me if I tell them you did something to me.”
Carl cranes her head, hands pressing to the floor and Ron is half-expecting her to shove her away despite the warning. Instead she seems almost frozen, blinking as though moving has left her feeling dizzy. Her eyes have gone wide, staring down at her as Ron settles on the kitchen floor between her pale legs. “What are you doing?” Carl sounds almost nervous, her thighs twitching involuntarily.
Ron grins, baring teeth and she lets her hands languidly slide up the younger girl’s thighs, “you’ll like this, I promise, probably.” She can’t help laughing when Carl’s face twists in disgust, a flash of actual fear when her hands slide up, up to the panties she’s wearing. The shirt flicks up, revealing pale blue panties and the bulk of a sanitary pad tucked inside. Both are soaked through with blood and Ron bites her lip with a noise of want.
“Fuck I can smell you,” and she can , that tang of staling blood. It makes her head spin, her panties getting wetter, slick teasing her clit. She hooks her fingers into those panties and Carl lets out a strangled whimper, body jerking. “Lemme taste, I want to taste it…”
“You’re a freak-” Carl’s voice comes out choked, and Ron huffs out a laugh, ignoring the other girl as she tugs on those soaked panties. “Wait-don’t-!” one of Carl’s hands darts down, presses to hers with an uncertainness that reveals her inexperience. “I’m.. I’m bleeding down there?” Carl’s eyes are so fucking wide when Ron chances a glance upwards, her pale cheeks flushed a pretty rose pink.
Ron offers her another shark grin, tugs harder until she has the panties half dragged down her thighs. They expose a tiny patch of dark curls, soaked and turned black from blood, and below that, the prettiest puffy pussy Ron’s ever seen (not that she’s seen many to compare, but she’s already sure no one’s will reach the high caliber of Carl fucking Grimes’ cunt). A string of blood from her cute cunt to the pad snaps, splatters a droplet or two on her thighs.
Ron is transfixed, swallowing hard as she stares. Carl’s a heavy bleeder, more than Ron, the pad is soaked right through. There’s a glob of blood, a dark clot, in the center of it and she can’t quite stop herself. She presses her fingertip into it, spreads it across the already saturated material and draws her hand back, rubbing the tacky blood between her finger and thumb.
God it’s… it’s gross. And she’s never been more turned on in her entire life. She sticks her thumb into her mouth, sucks off the blood and looks up through her bangs, sees Carl with her shoulders pressed to the cabinet, her mouth open as she just stares back at her, confusion bleeding from every pore.
Ron wants to ruin her. She licks her lips, the tang of the blood so strong in her mouth and before Carl can say anything, she dives down. Carl lets out a yelp, hands shooting out to grab at her at the first touch of her tongue. Those hands hover by her head, the younger girl gasping as Ron licks between her folds.
Fuck Ron had never really imagined how this would feel, how hot another girls’ cunt would feel under her tongue. Carl’s blood and slick are tangy, a little salty, and Ron moans as she delves in. She’s never eaten anyone out before, Enid had done it once to her, for like a minute before she proclaimed it was gross and she was done. Ron had not offered to return the favor.
So she doesn’t really know where to lick but Carl is letting out these little noises, her legs twitching as she pokes her tongue into her tight hole. Under the taste of blood, she can make out something tangy, probably Carl’s slick. It makes Ron moan, makes her fuck her tongue in and out of Carl until the other girl’s hands are tangling in her hair, her hips jerking up.
“What… Ron -!” Carl sounds wonderfully breathless, a delightful mixture of confusion and pleasure that makes Ron throb. She’s not fighting her any more, her fingers almost gentle, unsure as they press to her skull. Ron slides her panties down even further, glances up to see wide eyes and flushed cheeks, Carl’s pretty lips parted as she pants.
She grins, wondering the picture she must make, eager eyes peering up over her fluffy mound. She wonders how much red is smeared across her chin, her cheeks. Not enough, she wants it all, wants to wipe crimson streaks across her own freckled skin, wants to finger herself with it, stuff herself full of Carl.
Carl’s fingers twitch on her head, eyes almost popping as Ron licks her lips and slips her hand between the brunette’s thighs. “Wait, not there-” Carl’s voice cracks, her body jerking as Ron snorts out a laugh and pushes two fingers inside her cunt.
“Shush, you can take it,” Ron grins and crooks her fingers, watching Carl’s body jerk, reveling in the shocked cry she lets out. She slides upwards, keeps her fingers inside as she cages Carl up against the counter. Her body leaves the other girl in shadow, leaves her cringing away like she’s nervous. The sight makes Ron feel so fucking powerful, like a force of nature. She fucks her fingers in and out, pumping roughly and Carl rewards her with a strangled sound.
Hands press to her shoulders, and Ron wonders if Carl will actually push her off. She doesn’t though, instead clings to her shirt and clenches her eyes shut, panting hard. Ron can’t take her eyes off of her, off her flushed cheeks, off her spit-wet lips. They’re pretty lips, she’s thought about them before, thought about kissing them. She won’t though, she doesn’t want Carl coming out of this thinking Ron likes her or anything stupid like that.
God she wants to though, wants to fuck her tongue into Carl’s mouth and catch all those lovely little whines and choked off sounds inside her own. She bites her lip, imagines digging her teeth into those soft lips. She’s captivated by the smears of dried blood left on Carl’s face, she looks better than she could have imagined.
Carl whines, eyes falling open again and meeting her own. She looks so fucking wrecked, a droplet of sweat sliding down the side of her forehead. Ron sniffs at the air, at the deliciously pungent scent of blood in the air. She wonders if, after they’re done, the scent will linger and Carl’s family will be able to smell what they’ve done. Maybe the coppery tang of Carl’s blood will linger in the pretty clean kitchen, a reminder she spread her legs for Ron for days to come.
Ron hopes so, hopes Carl never fucking forgets this. She grins as she watches Carl buck, her face so open in her pleasure as Ron curls her fingers inside, rolls her thumb over her nice little clit. She can feel the tug of the drying blood on her cheeks as she flashes her teeth, she feels wicked, she feels fucking triumphant, and so horny she thinks any touch right now would tip her over the edge.
Carl’s eyes clench shut, her hands scrabbling at her as she chokes out a “ fuck -”. Ron keeps moving her fingers, fucking her through it, feeling her sweet little cunt clenching around her fingers like her body never wants to leave. Then finally the other girl slumps with a hiss, her head craned awkwardly against the counter. Ron tugs her fingers out, rough enough that Carl whimpers.
She can’t help the moaned curse that escapes her mouth as she admires her hand. Her fingers are coated with fresh thick blood and slick, oozing and dripping. And her other fingers, her thumb, her whole palm, they’re spread with it. Already congealing, darker and tacky and peeling. She holds her hand up to the light, watching the fresh blood catch the light from the window.
“You’re insane.” Carl’s watching her, glancing between her hand and her face with something like disgust, her eyes wary. She’s still panting, body starting to shiver. Ron glances down, sees a puddle of blood smeared across the linoleum tiles between her pale thighs.
She giggles and uses her clean hand to shove Carl’s shirt up, exposing her pale stomach. Carl twitches, hands scrabbling on the floor like she’s finally coming to her senses. Ron is briefly captivated by the scar on the other girl’s belly, but there’s no time. She raises her bloody fingers and pins the other girl to the floor, ignoring the cursed protest as she smears red across her stomach. Grins viciously as she scrawls a messy R O N. Oh sure it’s hardly permanent, but it’s still something . Has something possessive and dark and… almost tender at the sight.
Carl snarls at her as she scrambles back, out of the danger zone as the other girl’s hands and legs start hitting out. “You’re sick, why did you do that?!” Carl’s mouth curls into something less pretty, more feral, confusion and anger as she twists, her body shaking.
Ron drags herself to her feet, wiping her hand fruitlessly on her jeans as she takes a step back. “You liked it.” She shrugs, watches the brunette’s brows furrow in confusion and offers her a crooked grin. “Let's keep this between us though, yeah?”
She doesn’t stick around to see Carl’s reaction, hightailing it out of there with a laugh. She hears Carl yell out something, a stumble of frustrated curses and half questions but she ignores them. She got what she wanted, the taste of blood on her tongue and the sight of Carl a trembling mess on the ground. Sure it’s not quite like leaving Carl a twitching bloody almost-corpse like she’s been imagining, but this might be better, especially if the girl lets her do it again.