#little wheels club
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I’m still so stoked on this Celica!
#me#my face#Toyota#Celica#liftback#first gen Celica#TRD#tosco#techno toy tuning#work wheels#equip 01#little wheels club#pop punk#real friends#movements#knuckle puck#neck deep#the front bottoms#trophy eyes#hot mulligan#boston manor#the wonder years#Filipino#pinoy#body positivity for men#men with piercings#men with beards
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“they call you c r y b a b y”
Melanie Martinez “Cry Baby” Music Videos (Tracks 1-/13)
#melanie martinez#vintage#crybaby#artists on tumblr#melanie crybaby#melanie littlebodybigheart#dollhouse#melanie k12#cry baby#sippy cup#k 12 melanie martinez#melanie lbbh#melanie portals#k 12 aesthetic#k 12 album#k 12 movie#dollhouse ep#crybaby album#after school ep#cry babies#cherubs#earthlings#dead to me#training wheels#drama club#brain and heart#light shower#2015 tumblr#little body big heart#trilogy tour
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get u a man who’s invulnerable to gunfire and is not afraid to rob banks with u (shared hobby)
#blonde launch hits him with a chair and he’s like hey babe what’s up#running a hot wheels car down Raditz’s gay ass little button nose#I need to club him with a bar of soap in a sock#art#dbz#raditz#launch#launch db#launchitz#they’re bi4bi u already know#getting into them at a totally normal level
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Before Project Mayhem, before fight club, before Marla, before Tyler — there is still one sad sack of shit.
.
.
The hard part about work trips isn't making the plane or seeing another family of five burnt into their leather seats. It's missing support groups.
See, if you're lucky, the company will send you out to a major city. Cities are great. A little advanced work to find a slightly below average church or library, you're set each night you're there.
It's a bit of novelty, getting to be a new face all at once. People assume you've just been diagnosed. It's never the failed treatments, the degradation of their life and everyone in it, the continuous experience of knowingly dying — none of those things are the worst thing that happens to you.
It's finding out they will.
So people cry. They crowd around, I sob like I've been told I've got stage four colon cancer and three weeks to live. We all cry. I sleep soundly on the plane back or in the nice, four star hotel my company provides me.
Flying out to a small town, though. I'll be awake enough to be hallucinating by the time I get back for Remaining Men Together. The only mercy is that the next time I show for all the groups I missed, I can see who thought I died. I get to be resurrected.
The other part about small towns, you have to take a second, shitter plane to a local airfield, or you have to take a rental car. One of the most popular rental cars available right now, it'll light itself on fire if you use the cruise control at the wrong time. I know this because I sat next to another guy with my job, who worked for a different company, and he said I'll show you mine if you show me yours. So I told him about the faulty airbags, and he told me about the overheating switch.
I prefer to avoid driving.
All the rental place at the airport has left for me, it's one of those flaming cars. I use cruise control. If I don't, one of my narcoleptic spells will send me into the Jersey barrier.
When you drive into these small towns, you have to try to pay attention, or you'll end up a county over talking about the wrong wreck. They're otherwise interchangeable, but the miles on your rental car won't line up and those are the type of records that might get pulled out when the company is finally sued for the big one ten years down the line.
As a result, I see the same decor on the way in every time. Meth lab. Abandoned homes. Garbage fire. Classic Americana. There is no four star hotel here; I sleep the same.
The only reason I've been brought out here is because the poor shithead who drove his truck into the ditch drunk was driving my company's flagship vehicle. It loses power steering if the car jostles the right way going above 55 miles per hour. I've been told to keep track of potential incidents and make sure the company can firmly claim it's not at fault.
We've had this problem for decades, and we will for many more. Sometimes, everything is falling apart.
The job is simple, and I only get tempted by the town's blatant opioid addiction for a day and night. Painkillers would probably make me sleep. The thing about being a recall campaign organizer, though, is like recognizes like. It's not only other Compliance and Liability guys who tell you company secrets while sharing the aisle in business class.
When I'm finally back in my own town, after my own support groups, after crying my eyes out into Bob's meaty middle — I pick up my mail. There's the newest IKEA magazine. Half of it looks like shit. The type of thing you'd only see in some curated art deco, modernist, post-modern traditionalist bohemian minimalist apartment.
I have to have it.
I go to sleep, hard, like God himself tucked me in. I sleep with my wallet net four hundred heavier, because even an IKEA spree tends not to outweigh a work trip. I sleep, with my called in IKEA goods only two short weeks away, my job well done, and I know, my life is complete.
#fight club#my writing#KEY INFO: this is Before Tyler#bit experimental as a result. how to peel away some of the narratorisms but have him still be the narrator? how to make him complacent#like a wisconsin dairy cow but still have undertones of extreme conscious and subconscious distress?#all car faults mentioned are real#ford had an overheating cruise control switch#and some other overheating fire switches#and jeep. i know because i knew a guy with a jeep — they randomly lose pwoer steering sometimes#horrific and scary and potentially deadly in any car — but jeeps have this known and bizzarely widely accepted flaw called the death wobble#which refers to the oscillations that rapidly feed on each other if the car is slightly out of tune#and can result in tearing the steering wheel from your hands#until you slow down#for some reason that's just accepted.#theres a lot of jeep propaganda#anyway you combine those two#you get the picture#i dont doubt theres been incidents even if there hasnt been major recalls lol#i hope this one comes across well... it's always strange to explore an almost hypothetical version of a character. the narrator where Tyler#is just a growing little menace in his head....#I think what made this one fun for me though is the narrator would still be pretty openly bleak I think but the SUBCONSCIOUS stuff.#especially all the stuff I implied at the end. very fun to write#and it was also just fun to lay down the like.... seeds. of things#this is before Tyler in the sense that it's before he was well cooked. Before they met. Etc. Pretty early into the support groups. But yk#he is sleeping.
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Ive been thinking about getting a spinning wheel and I got to play with a few in spinning club! But I dont know if a eew or a double tredle is what I want! Theres a fiber festival near(ish) to me that I may be able to go to that may have some spinning wheels but idk
Eew
Pros: less expensive, bigger bobbin(8oz!!!!), handheld(ish), heard good things about it
Cons: I like to treadle, i have add so may forget where i put it (what else is new)
Double Treadle
Pros: actual spinning wheel! Lazy kate built in, I like to treadle(specifically double treadle!)
Cons: expensive, smaller bobbin, takes up space
Anyways anyone have any opinions on wheels?
#hand spinning#spinning wheel#spinning#i guess thats good!#i joined a spinning club and i love it and im super awkward#theyre all so much older than me so im honestly still a little intimidated#but we’re going on a field trip next weekend to a spinning store!#so thatll be fun!!
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Introduction to me!
Hello there! My name is Johnathan (he/him). My other account is @jonathanthetranswriter , but the device with that account is currently down for the count.
LGBTQ+
I am a transgender man who is also a-spec (a label I’m still trying to figure out). I love my community and I’m completely supportive! I believe that as long as you aren’t hurting yourself or anyone else in anyway shape or form, you should be free to express yourself however!
Hobbies!
I like writing, scrapbooking, and light gaming. That’s about it, I’m pretty boring.
Interests!
I’m going to attempt to list my interests. This list will be in no way conclusive, it’s just some of the things I like!
Cartoons:
Gravity Falls
Star vs the forces of evil
Wander over yonder
The owl house
Dead end paranormal park
Steven Universe
Hilda
The last kids on earth
+SO MANY MORE!!!!
Anime:
Saiki k
Ouran high school host club
Kotaro lives alone
Romantic killer
Madoka Magica
Mob psycho 100
Spy x family
+SO MANY MORE
Games:
Cult of the Lamb
Minecraft
Cosmic Wheel of Sisterhood
Slime rancher
Stardew Valley
Animal Crossing
Omori
Little Misfortune
+SO MUCH MORE
Fun facts about me!
-my best friend named me
-I love my friends
-I don’t think I’ve ever ended a year with the same label(s) I started with (feelings are complicated)
-Halloween is my favorite holiday ever!!
-I like musicals!
If you’ve made it this far, I really appreciate you reading this!! If you would like to be mutuals (and you’re not the bad kind of weirdo/a young minor) feel free to reach out!
#intro post#long post#gravity falls#svtfoe#wander over yonder#the owl house#dead end paranormal park#steven universe#hilda the series#the last kids on earth#saiki k#ouran high school host club#kotaro lives alone#romantic killer#puella magi madoka magica#mob psycho 100#spy x family#cult of the lamb#minecraft#cosmic wheel sisterhood#slime rancher#stardew valley#animal crossing#omori#little misfortune#ride the cyclone#six the musical#beetlejuice the musical#transgender#aspec
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Colourwheel challenge! Next up is green. I'm thinkin Shego?
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my talking heads + solo favs playlist
A playlist of my favorite songs from the Talking Heads discography and the songs from the their individual solo careers :)
#talkingheads#david byrne#tina weymouth#chris frantz#tom tom club#talkingheads77#more songs about buildings and food#fear of music#remain in light#speaking in tongues#spotify#playlist#little creatures#truestories#stop making sense#the catherine wheel#brian eno#post punk#post rock#folk#art rock#pop#funk#live music#concert film#st vincent#the talking heads#rhino records#warner music#synthwave
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#the color wheel challenge#color wheel challenge#color wheel trend#color wheel character challenge#princess bubblegum#homura akemi#grumpy bear#piplup#minty#my little pony#care bears#adventure time fanart#fanart#fan artist#ouran high school host club#velma dinkley#velma is gay#garnet#steven universe fanart#small artist#lgbtq artist#autistic artist
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okay i have a little steddie fic in the works that i just LOVE SO FUCKING MUCH!! here’s a little blurb for it:
robin still hasn’t been kissed. she is nineteen and still hasn’t had her first kiss because she is Not having one with a man and any time the chance arises with a woman she freaks out because… well, blame small town homophobia.
so… when robins blabbing about it to steve and eddie, her two bestest friends in the whole world, both of which are Also queer! (except eddie doesn’t know steve’s bi) eddie decides he needs to take robin to his most favourite gay bar up in indy!
so robin, eddie and steve all rock up in a little hotel in indy and out on their gayest little out fits and some makeup and eddie takes them to the shadow club and WOW.
oh my god, steve look! there are girls making out over there!
oh my god, robin, drag is way cooler than i thought it was!
welcome to the safe haven my angels, have a drink.
and wow, robins met a cute girl and steve’s so happy for her. and wow! some guy is hitting on steve whilst eddie’s in the bathroom and so when he comes back he takes that as his chance to go find a guy for himself. and then- and then that guy was a total fluzie so steve leaves to find eddie, but he finds another gorgeous guy instead. but this guy is looking for sex and has a daddy kink and steve’s not really looking for that tonight (he’s looking for eddie).
oh but then steve finds a totally hot metal head and he’s So smooth but- awh damn, he has a boyfriend?
and then eddie comes out of the blue and tells steve he needs to play the fake boyfriend card because his asshole ex is here! so they kiss-
oh holy shit they kiss.
they don’t stop kissing…
awh damn, i didn’t know you were into guys steve!
anyway, i’m excited for it, is anyone else? i hope so!
#🤭🤷👀#anyone interested?#steddie#it’s so lovely and gay i promise#i’m also in the process of drawing them all up in their little outfits#robin and steve match by the way#and then eddie’s just there in his edgy gay boy outfit like 😚✌️#gay club moment#platonic stobin#platonic muckley#eddie x steve#steve & robin#robin & eddie#eddie & robin & steve#eddie has been the third wheel but now robin will be#steve is so fond of his friends#GAY REVELATIONS#stranger things#eddie lives#stranger things 4#steve and eddie have matching scars#obviously. as if i’m not writing about their matching scars#steve is so gay for eddie it’s CRAZY#eddie munson#steve harrington pov#robin buckley#steve & robin both liking scary edgy tops#wlw mlm solidarity#eddie probably has adhd tbh. idk. you tell me (please tell me because if you think he does then i should go get a diagnosis because he is me#jay writes
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HI i need your brilliant mind to lend me some book recs that are similar to sanderson/wot vibes that you've enjoyed. if you want. and if it's not too much trouble. ty<3
Hi Sam!!! 💖💖 so this is embarrassing. but I have no recs haha. I only got back into reading in 2020 with WoT so 2020 and some of 2021 was me reading wheel of time, 2021 I just read fanfiction (as u know lol), and this year I've been almost exclusively reading Sanderson to finish the cosmere. But I'm almost done!!!! So I need some recs too :)
anyone have book recs similar to sanderson and wheel of time for @wanderingcas and I? would be much appreciated!!! 💖
#we can have a little book club sam haha#ask#cosmere#wheel of time#book recs#fantasy#ok i'm tagging a bunch of things so we get some good recs lol
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Melanie Martinez via Instagram story's in Mykonos, Greece 🌬️🤍
#vintage#crybaby#melanie martinez#artists on tumblr#melanie crybaby#melanie littlebodybigheart#cry baby#melanie k12#dollhouse#sippy cup#k 12 melanie martinez#melanie lbbh#melanie portals#dollhouse ep#crybaby album#k 12 aesthetic#k 12 album#k 12 movie#after school ep#cry babies#cherubs#earthlings#dead to me#training wheels#drama club#field trip#light shower#trilogy tour#lbbh#little body big heart
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I gotta get off the Instagram reels
#I keep getting videos of little babies trying to comprehend language. like how you can see the wheels in their little brains turning when th#they’re trying to understand and copy 😭 like the last one was a Xhosa man talking to his baby and it had the biggest smile while#imitating the clicks in the language. cryin in da club.
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What about instead of rage giving the reader the silent treatment let’s switch the roles and instead the reader gives rage the silent treatmentt plsss
you were being a chatty little princess. you couldn’t help how excited and giddy you were today — the sun was shining bright, the sky a pretty baby blue, the air smelled fresh and sweet, everything just seemed to have been going picture perfect for you. so, when rafe brought you along with him to the country club to catch up with kelce and topper, you were all smiles, to the point where your cherub cheeks and glossy lips ached from being so stretched. you sat prettily on rafe’s lap, even more bubbly than usual thanks to the pomegranate martini you’d been sipping on.
rafe’s hand mindlessly tapped against the side of your thigh as he spoke to topper about this new boat that he’d been eyeing, causing your doe eyes to widen as your lips parted, “oh my god, topper it’s so pretty and i told rafe that he should-” you cut in, oblivious to this being your fourth time interrupting rafe while he spoke to the guys. it wasn’t until rafe had finally corrected you that you realized your silly mistake.
“hey, y’gonna let me finish talkin’ to top, or are y’gonna keep on interrupting me?” rafe scolded, his voice cold and stern as he lightly grabbed your jaw, his bright blue eyes hanging low as he sent you a chilling warning look. a soft exhale left your nose as your eyes glazed over with threatening tears, with an obedient nod. now returning his attention to topper, rafe cleared his throat before continuing, “so, yeah m’probably gonna have it by next week — just waiting on my guy to have it all dolled up for me,” rafe sighed, ignoring the slight pang in his chest as you fiddled with your fingers and kept your gaze trained on your feet.
he could tell that you were trying your very best, not to cry.
you remained silent for the remainder of the day, only allowing yourself to extend a forced courteous smile to topper and kelce, once rafe decided it was time to go home. he didn’t miss the way you simply nodded or shook your head whenever the server asked you a question, or how you quickly wiped your eyes before a stream of tears could flow door your cheeks. could rafe do without your constant interjections? yes, but he had to admit that the conversation just wasn’t as engaging without your light and airy commentary.
so, rafe decided that he’d play all of your favorite songs, once you were comfortably seated in your passenger seat with your seatbelt fastened, his pink lips running dry as you remained blank of any emotion. reaching over the center console, rafe laying his hand right above your knee, squeezing the plush skin of your thigh, to get you to look at him, “hey, mama — y’doing okay?” he questions, quickly glancing over to you as you wordlessly nodded, your dolly eyes fluttering closed as rafe sighed in defeat, before bringing his hand back to the steering wheel. he had to admit that watching you leaning your head against the window to fall asleep, instead of his shoulder, stung him a little.
what gnawed at rafe the most, was that you weren’t being quiet as a punishment, you genuinely believed that rafe wanted you to stop talking, to the point where even he couldn’t get you to say a word to him. it’d been about four hours and he missed hearing you, he missed the way his name fell off of your tongue, the way your accent peaked with certain words, how you’d console him in spanish, but mostly, he missed hearing you call him ‘papi’.
it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, thanks to the two cocktails you’d drank earlier, leaving rafe overtly excited to take the chance to get you in his arms, the moment he parked his car, rushing to the passenger side as he scooped you into his arms, his forearm resting underneath the soft curve of your ass, while his free hand gently slid over your waist. a low whine left your swollen lips as you kept your head leaned against rafe’s shoulder, sighing sleepily as you allowed your boyfriend to carry you inside of tannyhill.
pressing a kiss to your cheek, rafe was quick to take a seat on the couch with you on his lap, he needed this silence to end, before he flipped the fuck out, “i don’t like that y’not talking to me, mama — m’about to lose my mind, not hearing my pretty girl,” rafe coos sweetly into your ear, pressing another kiss to your cheek as you sigh, leaning your head closer into his shoulder. “y’not in trouble, baby, i just wanted to finish talking to topper and i know you’re excited about the boat,” rafe squeezed your waist, beckoning for you to look at him — he needed to make sure that you knew that he still saw you as his sweet girl.
compliantly, you lifted your head, your sleepy doe eyes bright as met rafe’s unwavering gaze, a small huff leaving you as you parted your now barely-glossed lips, “i just didn’t want to annoy you, papi —” you began, rafe’s eyes softening as your sweet voice ran like warm honey in his ears. you innocently shifted yourself on his lap, your swollen lips just aching to be kissed by rafe’s, “i know i was just being too excited,” you sighed, ending your small ramble as rafe simply stared at you blankly, licking over his lips as he shamelessly ogled yours.
the second you cocked your head to the side in confusion, rafe’s mouth was on yours, enveloping you in a disgustingly sloppy, but needy kiss. a throaty moan left rafe’s throat as his hand slid up to the back of your neck, securely holding your face against his as he messily licked into your mouth, spit smearing across your chin as you struggled to catch your breath, “papi, wait — i can’t breathe,” you giggled, your words instantly swallowed by rafe’s mouth as his tongue mushed slush against yours, the two of you whimpering with greed as rafe leaned forward, with you still clinging onto his lap, his shiny, spit-covered lips trailing down to your prettily pushed-up breasts.
“missed hearing y’fuckin’ voice, mama,” rafe mumbled, his voice broken and hoarse as you smiled cheesily, beaming with the fact that rafe missed you.
#anon#asks#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#obx imagine#obx#sweetheart!reader
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I’m a Good Girl, Officer!
Pairing: Reader x Detective Dixon x Officer Grimes x Officer Walsh
Summary: Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.
Warnings: NSFW. Foursome! :-) Unprotected p-in-v, spitroast, double penetration, overstimulation, praise and degradation, bimbofication, throatfucking, painal, breeding kink, using c*m as lube, and a (consensual) strugglefuck. Elements of dubcon à la power imbalance and coercion. Age gap. Public indecency, evading arrest, assault on two cops, and general drunken stupidity.
“Goooooood morning, babycakes!”
Your best friend rolled the hem of her shirt over her chest and shimmied her shoulders at the big white semi truck about to pass under the bridge. The stranger at the wheel took one look at the woman’s tits and almost swerved across two lanes of traffic. The sight sent you and your drunken group howling with laughter, falling onto the ground as Maggie yanked her top back down.
It was five a.m. and freezing. The club where you’d been boozing all night had long since shuttered closed, and you and your closest friends from high school—home for the holidays and happily plastered—had gone wandering home in a daze. When one of the girls had stopped suddenly at the midsection of a bridge, you hadn’t been able to keep from sharing her smile the second she’d grinned and said, ‘For old time’s sake?’
In no time at all, you’d been lined up along the metal railing and ogling the unsuspecting drivers down below. The freeway was mostly empty at this hour, save for a couple tractor trailers and early morning commuters, but that didn’t matter.
Rosita was up next. You watched her eye an RV as it bumbled down the road and saw her take hold of her shirt just like Maggie had. Then, right when the camper got close enough, the brunette bent slightly at the waist, flipped her top up, and screamed at the top of her lungs:
“HEY BIG RED!”
A big, buff dude with a bright red handlebar mustache looked up from the passenger seat, as did the white-haired, bearded gentleman wearing a bucket hat beside him. The pair then watched your friend’s roadside spectacle with shared looks of wonder and awe, before passing under the bridge as slow as they possibly could. Rosita staggered off the ledge and reached for the flask in your hand, heedless of her breasts still hanging out.
“Your turn,” she chirped before taking a swig.
Your feet were already wobbling onto the concrete slab. From your vantage point, the outline of the sun was just then breaking out across the tops of the trees, casting the morning’s first rays across your bare skin. You stretched your arms out wide, Titanic-style, and basked in the warmth—likely looking drunk as all hell as you did.
“Ooo, this one, this one!” Maggie cut in presently.
You followed your friend’s gaze and caught sight of a sleek, glistening firetruck speeding down the road.
Perfect, you thought as your eyes soaked in the sight. You pictured the truck packed to the gills with hot and sweaty firemen inside, and your fingers itched at the bottom of your shirt. Curled under the fabric and ready to lift as soon as the time came. Even from a distance, you could make out a tiny cluster of uniformed men at the helm, each of their faces contorted with curiosity.
The truck sped up and drew closer. Maggie squeezed your hip, Rosita chewed her lip, and together, you all stared the firetruck down with bated breath until it was just about to go under the bridge.
In a blink, you flipped your shirt up and shook your tits back and forth for the men going by. Much to your surprise, the firefighter in the driver’s seat honked his horn a couple times, and another one, at the rear, stuck his grinning head out the window and waved.
You, Maggie, and Rosita waved right back, practically falling over each other in fits of laughter as you yelled,
“Call me, daddy!”
The three of you collapsed on the sidewalk in a heap of shitfaced hysterics. Rosita flung your flask to the side and smacked you playfully across your boobs—still out and proud and likely able to cut diamonds with how hard your nipples had gotten in the chilly morning air.
“Daddy?!” she wheezed, “You skank!”
You straightened up, partially splayed across Maggie’s lap, and wiggled your shoulders once more, feigning that high-pitched, ditzy voice you used whenever you were hammered,
“Daddy please fuck my titties, I’ve been such a bad girl!”
Then you gave the best porn star moan you could muster and started to pull your shirt the rest of the way off. Not thinking, you balled up the light pink fabric and threw it up in the air while Rosita cheered—‘Tits out for the girls!’—and Maggie almost pissed herself laughing. Really anything would’ve had your sides fit to split at this point, seeing how faded and adrenaline-drunk you were.
You reached up and waited for the top to fall back into your hand...until it didn’t. You cast a sweeping look across the three of you to see if your shirt had landed somewhere else, but the garment was nowhere in sight.
You turned and craned your neck to see over the railing.
“Shit!”
You scrambled to your feet and gripped the metal siding of the bridge, tits fully out and exposed to the world. You watched as an old Ford Ranger picked up speed and crushed the scrap of fabric under its tires, before the driver, in turn, gawked and honked his horn like a fool.
Just as you started to turn back to tell your friends the bad news—and beg them for a piece of spare clothing to cover you—a sound startled you all.
The short, sharp yelp of a siren straight ahead.
Your hands flew to cover your chest while Maggie and Rosita went floundering over each other trying to get up. A few yards away, a police cruiser had pulled up to the side of the bridge with its lights flashing bright red and blue.
Shit, again, seemed to be the resounding sentiment among you three as the car started inching closer.
“Stop right there!” a voice boomed over the PA system.
That only prompted your group to take off running.
You, cradling your tits in both hands, and Rosita and Maggie trying desperately not to trip over the curb, the wayside trash, or each other as they raced down the street.
Two car doors flew open. Then, the sound of that same voice, breaking out across the still morning air without the aid of the intercom and telling you to freeze right now, followed by the sound of footsteps. Boots thudded heavy on the ground below, moving fast and with purpose. Both pairs easily gained on your three retreating forms in a matter of seconds.
Maggie and Rosita were already leaps and bounds ahead of you. Too busy juggling your tits and struggling to breathe, you felt your heart sink.
Rosita shot a look over her shoulder and cried, ‘C’mon!’ as she eyed the cops coming closer.
I’m trying, you wanted to say, but couldn’t speak. Your chest was too tight, pupils blown wide with fear.
This was not the fucking time to be having a panic attack. But here you were.
Before you could stop yourself, you waved a frantic hand to your friends and somehow managed to scream, ‘Go!’
The girls slowed, tried to urge you forward, but, sensing that you weren’t keeping up and wanted them to go on without you, relented at last. They bounded off toward a side street and disappeared down an alley while you felt your legs start to falter beneath you.
“Freeze!” the voice bellowed again. Loud, gruff, and much closer to your ear than it had been before.
You did as he said, not because you wanted to, but because you had to, then, or your body would’ve given out. Still in the grips of terror and rampant intoxication, you stopped in your tracks, spun on your heels, and watched the two officers sprint toward you.
You started to raise your hands in surrender, but just when one of them approached—presumably to tackle you to the ground—your instincts took over. You scarcely knew what you were doing; you just felt your leg lift with the last bit of strength you had left, then, astonishingly, deliver a kick straight to the first man’s gut.
To the shock of you, the cop, and his partner, the man went tumbling backward. Fell straight on the pavement in almost comical fashion and grunted in pain.
“Rick!” the dark-haired one yelled reflexively.
His gaze darted back to you in an instant.
You knew you were capital F fucked. You didn’t bother trying to run and simply stared at the man left standing in a mixture of horror and dread as he charged straight at you.
Your flight response abandoned, you had only to fight. And, by the looks of your opponent, you sensed this motherfucker knew how to tussle.
Before you could even prime yourself for another kick, the cop had taken you down with one lunge. Pinned you flat on the asphalt and yelled right in your face,
“I said don’t move!”
You moved. You moved in his arms while he wrestled you to the sidewalk, snaked his hand around your front, pressed your back against his chest. You moved when he barked his orders once more, told you to get down now and stop resisting, and even wrapped his arm around your throat to force your compliance.
Chokehold’s illegal, asshole, you thought, fighting hard against his grasp. This cop played dirty, and appeared to give no fucks about who could see.
Just as his grip started to tighten around your neck, you heard the other officer back on his feet, talking sharply into his radio:
“Code 10-33. Requesting backup on Fayette Bridge.”
At the same time, the man above you was trying to shake his head, craning his neck to get his partner’s attention.
“Nah, nah, Rick, I got her!”
When ‘Rick’ didn’t seem to hear and kept shouting into the receiver, the burly cop turned his body to the side, squeezing your neck even tighter.
“Rick!” he called, “I got her right here, she’s— FUCK!”
Suddenly, the man’s voice broke off in a strangled yelp as you sank your teeth into the flesh of his arm. When he loosened his grip out of instinct, stinging with pain, you made a desperate attempt to slip from his grasp and get back on your hands and knees.
The freshly bitten cop just slammed you even harder on the ground, unleashing a string of expletives in your ear.
“Fuck you, pig!” you screamed back.
You weren’t sure what had come over you in the few short moments preceding this one—what had irked you so terribly to be inclined to kick one cop in the stomach and bite another on the arm like a feral cat—but there you went. Face down on the pavement with a set of handcuffs being clipped over your wrists.
You winced when you were jerked back onto your feet, the cop’s left hand on your shoulder and the other at your back. He shoved you to take your first steps forward, you instinctively told him to eat shit and die, and as a grim, unsavory unit, you walked toward the officer with his grip still fastened tight to his radio.
“You alright?” Rick asked, out of breath.
His gaze seared right through you to his partner—whose face, you could sense, was already beset with a scowl.
“Bitch bit me,” he spat.
You saw Rick’s expression change, watched his mouth move to speak again, when a sound crackled out of the receiver in his hand. A couple code words and street names you couldn’t make out.
“That’s— that’s alright, now, Officer Walsh has the subject restrained,” Rick returned hastily.
At present, Mr. Walsh had his thumb dug deep in your back, ostensibly holding tight to keep you subdued but more than likely just being an ass. He felt you flinch and gave you a fierce shake.
“Quit squirmin’, girl.”
“Quit pinchin’ me, pig!”
“You’d best watch that fuckin’ mouth’a yours.”
The voice above your ear had you easily outmatched in volume and tone, coarse as it was unkind.
You decided to try your luck anyway.
“Make me, pussy.”
The last thing you saw was the look of bewilderment leap to Rick’s face as Walsh thrust you forward, suddenly, and slammed you face-down on the hood of their car.
“What’d I say ‘bout that fuckin’ mouthin’ off?! Huh?”
“Shane—”
Rick grabbed this Shane’s shoulder in an effort to intervene. Tried prying him off before he could shove you down any harder, but his partner seemed adamant. Shane put his palm over the side of your head and knotted his fingers through your hair, quick to pull.
“Nah, man, I ain’t takin’ lip from some halfwit bimbo—”
“Hey!” you started, only to have your words muffled with your head forced back on the hood.
“Shane!” Rick snapped this time, taking a harder grip of his shirt and yanking him back. To your dismay, Shane kept a chunk of your hair clenched in his fist and probably dislodged a dozen or more strands when he was pulled away.
You let out a gentle groan as your head hit the car for a third time and the two officers broke off in a skirmish.
“You heard what Dixon said,” Rick hissed.
“Fuck what Dixon said!”
“You cain’t just— you got no right—”
“I got every right, man, lemme tell you sumn’—”
Before Shane could ‘tell you’ much of anything, though, the two were rendered silent by the sound of tires on pavement close by. A halt, a tense moment, a car door swinging open and closed, and a whisper passed quickly from Rick to Shane as the two exchanged a look,
“You fucked up.”
You tried tilting your head up toward the windshield to sneak a look in its reflection, maybe see who was coming. You couldn’t make out a thing.
Then, presently, the voice of a much more hushed, humbler Officer Walsh as he spoke,
“Detective Dixon, how’s it—”
“Six bucks.” Another man, presumably Dixon, cut in.
“Huh?”
“Six bucks fer this fuckin’ coffee. Tastes like dirt.”
Oh, uh, yeah, you could just sense Shane shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he searched for the right words to say, maybe scratched his head once or twice. Fortunately for him, Rick came to the rescue.
“Tried that new place on Main, huh?”
“Nic and Norman’s, yeah. Eggs were runny as shit an’ the waitress kept callin’ me ‘Dale’,” the man, now presumably Dixon but not Dale, said in a huff.
It was as if you weren’t lying flat on your tummy with your top off and your hands cuffed behind your back. You stupidly hoped the new man hadn’t noticed you.
“Well who’ve we got here?”
Shit.
You heard footsteps approach, but you didn’t turn your head. Your lungs expelled a small, shaky breath as this detective came by and stood inches from your bent form.
“She and her friends were flashing their tits to the cars passing under the bridge,” Shane declared, a touch too smug as he said it, “The others got away, but this one was sweet enough to grace us with her presence.”
“Kicked me in the stomach and knocked me on my ass,” Rick added.
“Bit me, too.”
You heard a low tsk-tsk as the detective clicked his tongue. Took another sip of his mud-flavored espresso and shook his head above you. Your skin burned with the imprint of his gaze.
“Spring break come a little late this year?” he teased.
“Fuck you,” you muttered.
The men let out a collective chuckle at your tart words. You could just picture the smirks and sly glances shared between them as they watched you writhe against the hood of the police cruiser and try not to give them the satisfaction of seeing your breasts splayed out underneath you.
You were ashamed, admittedly, unsure of how to proceed with three cops at your rear and few options at your disposal besides swearing up a storm. At last, you decided to shift your gaze in their direction and shoot them a glare—more of an empty threat than any real message, but you didn’t care.
You turned and immediately wished you hadn’t.
Your heart leapt into your throat.
“Daryl?!”
This time, Rick and Shane were the only ones to laugh out loud, before quickly stifling the sounds when they realized their superior hadn’t shown a hint of amusement.
Daryl Dixon, the detective, and your brother’s best friend from college, stared down at you with a look of horror.
“Y/N,” he stammered, in shock.
It was clear he was trying with every fiber of his being not to look down at your tits, but his resolve was only so strong. Finally, he settled on looking away, fast, and staring off in the distance while you readjusted yourself.
“Been a minute,” he said, trying for a curt, awkward nod.
And a minute it had been. The last time you’d laid eyes on the man had been at a Christmas party hosted by your brother and his husband four years ago. You’d exchanged all of ten words in polite, drunken pleasantries, and he’d stumbled off at the end of the night with a gorgeous redhead dressed as Mrs. Clause. You hadn’t heard hide nor hair of him since.
For a moment, Rick’s eyes danced indeterminately between you two. Shane’s remained fixed on your face.
“You know this little hellion, Detective?”
Daryl cleared his throat.
“Yeah, uh, that’s— that’s Aaron’s little sister.”
“No shit?”
The words came out faster than Shane could think to stop them. Your hometown was no great metropolis, and even he knew of your brother through a friend-of-a-friend and several cousins’ babysitter’s grandma’s Aunt Carol, or some similar relation. He and Rick had probably partied at your lake house a couple times in college.
“Uncuff her.” Daryl’s voice had already lowered some, pacing away to give you privacy.
Shane obliged and freed you from the handcuffs. When you turned around, only the back of Daryl’s body was visible to you as he ducked inside the backseat of his car.
He returned a few moments later with a blanket. Tried his damndest not to let his vision stray an inch from your face as he handed it to you. Then he beckoned Rick over, and the two exchanged a few quiet words by his sedan.
“You got rabies or anything?” Shane was eyeing the tiny crescent of teeth marks on his forearm.
You rolled your eyes.
“Worse. I’m one of those walkers.”
Shane gave you a look that conveyed he was just as annoyed but didn’t say anything more, even when you made a face at him. He just crossed his arms, leaned back against the squad car, and gritted his teeth. Before you knew it, Daryl and Rick were walking back.
“I’ll take her to the station,” Daryl said.
“Alri—”
“What?” you cried, “For what?!”
You knew for damn what. You just couldn’t believe your brother’s best friend wasn’t planning on giving you a family friend freebie of some kind.
Officer Walsh supplied an answer for you nonetheless, “Let’s see, now: public intoxication, public indecency, open container, and aggravated assault on two police officers. That clear things up, sweet cheeks?”
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
“Disorderly conduct, too,” Rick chimed in. Trying not to smile as he said it.
The only ones still not amused by anything this situation had to offer were you and Daryl. The detective looked positively pissed and ready to chuck his cup of coffee over the bridge, while you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ether. The two of you exchanged a brief, uneasy look and quickly looked the other way.
Rick and Shane were already retreating to their cruiser. You just watched them, almost forlorn, and pretended not to see Daryl signaling for you to follow him.
“C’mon now,” he murmured.
“Can’t you just let me off with a warning?”
Daryl was treading closer to you now, hand outstretched in an almost gentle sort of gesture. Like he wasn’t about to cart you off to the slammer.
“Y’know I can’t do tha’,” he replied, “With all the fuss ya caused, Captain would have my head.”
When you wrenched your arm away from his grasp, you saw him frown.
“Hey,” Daryl said, a little more sternly now, “Don’t make this harder than it needs ta be.”
You watched him reach for you again.
Your first instinct was to shrug him off. Your second was to flee.
You weren’t sure why you even tried it—it just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment, like they did in the movies, to take off sprinting down the street. You gave it a shot.
Unfortunately for you, your feet didn’t carry you far, and Daryl had you snagged in his arms in about five seconds flat. You glanced to the first cop car and saw that Rick and Shane hadn’t even stirred from their seats. Just grinning and laughing at your attempted escape.
Detective Dixon had you by the bicep now, leading you toward his car with a little more force in his step. You were cursing, writhing, fighting every effort of his to corral you into the backseat, but, without much trouble, he pushed you in.
Rear doors locking automatically, you had little more to do than sit and pout and feel every bit the brat as Daryl buckled himself in and started the car.
“C’mon, Dar, this isn’t a joke. I could lose my job ‘cause of this,” you whined, threading your fingers through the wired metal barricade that separated you.
Daryl watched and waited for the other cruiser to fall behind him. Then he started off.
“Shoulda thought about tha’ before ya decided to show yer tits off ta the world, no?”
“Like four people saw us.”
In the rearview mirror, you could’ve sworn you saw a ghost of a smile cross Daryl’s lips.
“I got a pretty colorful phone call from a man named Eugene saying he saw three girls danglin’ half nekkid from a bridge tryin’ ta flag down a firetruck...Don’t sound all that discreet to me.” Daryl shrugged, pretending not to see you slump back in your seat.
“We were drunk!” you cried.
You threw your hands up and let them fall at your side, while Daryl made a wide left turn.
“So?”
“You’ve done plenty of dumb shit when you were drunk, Dixon. Don’t even start.” You raised your hand like you were talking to your mother as an angsty teen. The man in the driver’s seat hardly seemed fazed.
“Oh?”
You paused a beat, then jolted back up as an old memory stirred in your mind.
“Like— like the time you got so shitfaced on senior night that you stumbled into my room thinking it was the bathroom,” you said, hastily, “Pissed all over my floor.”
Daryl’s eyes darted up to meet yours in the mirror, sharing in that vague and ugly recollection from his college days.
“That was yer room?” he winced.
“I was twelve and terrified,” you said, hovering as close as the metal wall would allow you, “Didn’t even know what being piss-drunk meant until you decided to relieve yourself all over my Barbie rug.”
“Ah shit...I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Let me out and we’ll call it even?” you ventured.
“Nuh-uh,” Daryl said, shaking his head, “Not how that works.”
You balled your hand in a fist and struck the wall between you, an exasperated sigh escaping your lips. Try as you might to fight it, you were still slightly buzzed and far more prone to anger than you normally would be. Daryl gave you a look.
“Pipe down, princess, ‘s’ain’t the end of the world.”
“And who the fuck are you to say?” you snapped, clenching your jaw.
Daryl pressed a bit harder on the brakes as he brought the car to a stop at a red light. Then he shot a look over his shoulder. His brow drew in just slightly.
“Yer a real brat, ya know that?”
“Really, pig?” you sneered.
“Yeah, slut.”
Your mouth fell open at the sound of Daryl’s first real insult. He’d been all placid smiles and gentle eyes, never lapsing in the civility of his rank or his respect for you, his close friend’s sister, until that point. You watched as his gaze visibly hardened and moved away from yours, foot hitting the gas when the light turned green.
“What did you just call me?”
“A fucking slut. ‘Cause tha’s what ya are,” Daryl answered, not missing a beat.
Had he lost his fucking mind? Who did he think he was? The man carried on, starting to increase the car’s speed,
“Nobody’s showin’ off a pair’a tits that damn pretty ‘less they’re a whore, ya know?”
You sat back in awe, hardly aware of the cruiser’s growing acceleration, or the fact that Daryl was just then starting to turn down a road you—and Rick and Shane—had never seen before. You were too offended. Flustered.
“Excuse m—”
“Yeah, I looked. You’ve got an incredible rack, really,” Daryl admitted as he cut you off, “Too bad it’s attached to such a worthless little slut.”
“Get fucked, Dixon,” you hissed, beating your fist against the divider once more.
“Oh, believe me, we will.”
Your blood likely would’ve run cold in your veins if you had the first clue what he was talking about. What did he mean by ‘we’? Why had he started smiling when he’d said that?
Presently, you looked out the window.
Where the everliving fuck had he taken you?
Instead of finding yourself parked outside the King County Sheriff’s Department, as expected, you cast a sidelong glance to the left and the right and saw nothing but trees. Wilderness. You were parked in a clearing, at what appeared to be a campground...in a quarry?
You turned back to Daryl, suddenly rigid with fear.
The driver’s side door was already slamming shut behind him. Instead of deigning so much as a glance at the back, he strode right past you and went over to the car that had just pulled up. Rick and Shane appeared just as confused as you were as they came to a stop.
You watched them, dumbstruck, pulse pounding in your ears as a hundred different thoughts danced in your mind and grew progressively darker the longer you stared. Were they going to torture you? Kill you? Cuff you to the car and kick the living shit out of you until you bled from the mouth and begged them for mercy?
There was no way the drunken fratboy of your youth, now a detective on the police force and your brother’s best friend, would do something so heinous, right?
You slinked back in your seat when you saw all three men turn and approach your car.
Now, more than ever, there was no place but the police car you wanted to be as Daryl flung the back door open and stuck his head inside.
“Hey,” he grinned, “Wanna talk?”
Before you knew it, your feet were planted on the rocky terrain directly in front of Daryl’s car, and your hands were clasped together. Not cuffed this time—just folded and trying to look as polite and unassuming as possible.
“We’ve got a proposition,” Daryl started, steady.
You watched him pace back and forth while the two other officers stood back in silence. Shane wore the faintest smirk.
“You don’t wanna go to jail, right?”
You shook your head no.
“Good, ‘cause we don’t really feel like bookin’ ya,” Daryl continued, “Too much paperwork an’ all tha’ bullshit.”
You nodded along, slowly. Relieved to hear you weren’t getting arrested but waiting to see what the ‘But…’ was.
“But, y’know— it wouldn’t be fair to let ya go that easy.”
You kept nodding. Now looking at Shane and Rick and finding both of them smiling.
“So I say we make ourselves a deal. That okay with you, sugar tits?” Daryl sneered.
You balked at the name but swallowed your pride and answered, ‘Uh huh’ in a small voice. Squeezed your hands even tighter together.
Daryl approached you for the first time. You stood there, trembling, still thinking there was a chance that the three of them might just beat the hell out of you right then and there—and you flinched when Daryl lifted his hand to your cheek.
He brushed a few loose hairs from your face.
“I think you need to start by saying sorry.” His voice was almost serene.
You blinked a couple times up at Daryl with wide, oblivious eyes, shaking your head when you didn’t understand what he meant.
“To Shane,” Daryl added.
Softly, he tilted your chin toward his friend, who was grinning even bigger now.
You struggled for a second, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before stammering:
“I-I’m sorry, Shane.”
Your voice barely reached them in a whisper. You were so confused.
And, just as you started to wonder if that was all they really wanted, or if there’d be some other catch, Daryl decided to supply you with a wordless answer before you could even ask. The “catch” caught you right on the backs of your legs as Daryl gave them a gentle kick, causing both to buckle underneath you. You fell to the ground on your hands and knees and straightened yourself up just in time to see Shane make his leisurely approach.
“I’m sorry, Shane,” you spluttered again, thinking he just wanted you to grovel there in front of him.
Daryl and Shane exchanged looks. Then they smirked at you.
“I think Shane would rather you show him how sorry you are,” Daryl said, suddenly leaning over to collect two handfuls of hair behind your head, “With your mouth.”
At any other time, such condescension dripping from a man’s tone would have turned you off—and pissed you off—immediately. With Daryl and Shane standing over you now, the former’s fingers slotting through your hair and the latter’s working to unzip his pants, you couldn’t imagine yourself being any more aroused.
It hit you like a ton of bricks, all at once.
They were there to fuck you, not fight you.
At least not in the way you’d imagined anyway. No doubt Shane was keen to get his fill, and might be a tad more aggressive than the others to get it, but Daryl would make sure he didn’t push too hard. He held your head in place while Shane pulled out his cock.
And, you hated to say it, but your mouth was salivating for a taste. You couldn’t be bothered to look up at either man now, just soaking in the sight of Shane’s thick, veiny member and feeling your face being moved closer to it. Not minding you were being manhandled as a gentle moan escaped your throat.
“Wanna show Shane how sorry ya are? Show him how good tha’ slutty little mouth’a yers can make him feel?” Daryl hummed.
“She’s droolin’, man,” Shane said, hardening at the sight.
You were. You couldn’t help it. You felt a thumb swipe at the spit that had just begun to trickle out of your mouth and sensed Rick at your side, enthralled as all the rest of them. Then that same finger drifted down to your tits, smearing the moisture all over one nipple before pinching the peak between two digits.
Your lips parted with another small whimper at the sensation, and Shane took that as his window to thrust his cock in your mouth. Caught off guard, you couldn’t help but gag when his tip hit the back of your throat, but Daryl steered your head back just in time so you weren’t choking on that first, single stroke.
“Easy, easy,” Daryl chided his friend as he watched your eyes water and your hand reach up to steady yourself against Shane’s thigh.
“You kiddin’? She fuckin’ loves it,” Shane grinned, “Don’t you, slut?”
You licked your lips and nodded. Didn’t bat an eye when Shane brought the head of his cock back down to your lips, and you quickly enveloped him in an open-mouthed kiss of sorts. Shane groaned at the sensation and couldn’t help but rut his hips.
“Such a fuckin’ whore,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Daryl helped move your head up and down his length while you stared up at Shane with the prettiest, most fucked-out expression you could manage, and you felt his length twitch in your mouth. Daryl pulled you off.
“Now what do we say for kicking Officer Grimes, hm?”
Before you could answer, your face was tilted to the left, and you were met with the sight of Rick stroking his length at your side. A string of saliva still connecting your mouth to Shane’s cock, you looked up at the friendlier of the two officers and gave him a smile.
“I’m sorry, Officer Grimes.”
This time, Daryl let Rick take the reins, for a moment, and move your mouth over his shaft. You happily accepted him between your lips and started bobbing almost instantly. You relished the pleasure that flooded those soft blue eyes, the way they winced just a little when you took him to the back of your throat. Like he wanted to fuck your face but felt too overcome with some feeling or fear to give it a try.
You decided it was cruel to make a man so polite wait a second longer than he needed to. Presently, you pulled off Rick’s length with a gentle ‘pop’ and turned your head back over to Daryl.
“Can you please tell Officer Grimes to fuck my throat?”
All three of them froze for a second, taken back by the filth that had just come out of your mouth, still spoken so sweetly. You stroked Rick’s cock and pretended to be oblivious of what you saw. Deep down, you knew by the glint in their eyes they were yearning, lusting, fucking you in their minds with every innocent blink you made. You felt Daryl’s grip tighten in your hair.
“You heard the lady,” Shane said, words directed to Rick but gaze never leaving you.
Out of habit, his hand came to wrap around his own cock as he watched you take Rick’s. You glanced between the two of them, placed a quick kiss on the tip—first on Rick’s and then, to the men’s surprise, on Shane’s—and parted your lips when you moved back to Rick.
Officer Grimes didn’t hesitate this time. He leveled himself with your mouth and pushed all the way in. You started to moan, but the sound was audibly cut short by a spasm in your throat. Rick reached the back of your warm, wet orifice with ease and, going further than Shane ever went, actually slid down that space. Exactly how you wanted him. You bobbed your head and hummed to show your appreciation.
Encouraged by how eagerly you swallowed him and how quick your whimpers were to reverberate down his length, Rick moved his hips. Watched you gag once or twice and blink through a couple tears, before Daryl wiped the moisture away as Rick had done for your spit. You were every bit the pampered and primped fuckdoll in their hands, bobbing and licking and sucking him dry.
“Good girl,” Daryl murmured, massaging your scalp when you gagged again.
“Takin’ me so well,” Rick groaned as he fed you another inch.
Shane continued pumping his cock, grunting out expletives, and watching you all the while.
You pulled off of Rick for a moment. Whether it would piss them off or turn them on, you didn’t really care—but you reached up to Shane and replaced his hand with yours, before dropping a kiss over the head of his cock.
All three men seemed to love it. Especially Daryl.
Though he hadn’t made a move to get his own dick wet just yet, you got the sense the man loved to watch. Loved to see your mouth sliding up and down and swallowing more cock every time, thinking to himself what a nasty, filthy little whore you were and just waiting for the moment it would be his turn to claim your throat and the rest of your holes as his own. In the meantime, you wanted to give him a good show.
You jerked both Rick and Shane in either hand and chanced a look over at Daryl.
Locking eyes with him, you moved down over Rick and sucked half his length in your mouth. Then, just as quick, you took Shane between your lips and gave the tip a wet, spongy kiss before taking him to the back of your throat. The mound in Daryl’s pants grew even more pronounced.
“Hey,” Rick said, grazing your cheek with his knuckles, “Ain’t you gonna say sorry to Detective Dixon, too?”
You moaned against Shane’s throbbing length and made sure Daryl saw your tongue swirl over the tip. Teasing him now.
Presently, Shane pulled out of your mouth and grabbed hold of your hair.
“Gonna make him feel real good with that slutty little mouth’a yours, huh?” he growled.
You nodded and smiled. Wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and started crawling over to Daryl as soon as Shane let you go.
You couldn’t believe he’d waited this long—couldn’t believe you’d been sucking his friends dry all this time and hadn’t gotten so much as a glimpse at him. Daryl watched you with a comfortable, lopsided sort of smirk as you made your way over to him, clearly enjoying this view of you on all fours.
Not even a guillotine could take away the head you were about to give this man.
When you finally reached his knees and straightened up enough to reach for the zip of his brown slacks, you felt a hand catch you around the wrist. To your surprise, Daryl held you back and yanked you onto your feet.
“I wan’ my apology someplace else.”
That ‘place,’ you would come to learn, was simply on top of his car. Splayed out on the hood of his cruiser with your pants dragged all the way down to your ankles and kicked off at your feet. Daryl carried you there and stripped you down to your panties, leaving you all but naked and ogling him with keen, hungry eyes. Rick and Shane were quick to follow suit and seemed just as eager as you were to watch this scene unfold.
You reached for his clothed erection once more but found your hand swatted away.
“Nuh-uh,” Daryl shook his head.
You raised an eyebrow in question. You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself moaning instead when Daryl slipped a finger past your panties and between your folds. Somehow finding your clit quicker than you could even dream, he circled that tiny bundle of nerves with his thumb and teased the seal of your entrance with his middle and ring fingers.
You clawed at his wrist.
“But Dar— I-I wanna taste you so bad,” you pleaded.
Daryl grinned and plunged his two fingers deep inside you, holding your hip to the car to keep you from squirming. He nodded to Rick, who took that as his cue to press down on your other side. Together, they had you pinned to the hood and helpless under their touch.
Daryl curled his fingers up and caused you to moan.
“How bad?” he asked.
“So—” your voice broke off in a gasp when the pads of his fingers stroked your G spot, “So bad, Daryl, please.”
You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was savoring every second of this sight: you with your legs spread, begging and pathetic as he and Rick held you down. He probably would’ve liked to keep you there a little longer, maybe teased and fingerfucked you to the point of tears, but he got the sense that his friends weren’t possessed of quite the same patience. He’d just have to save the overstimulation for later.
Before you knew it, Daryl had given Rick another quick nod, released you from his hold, and pulled you off the car—before steadying you back on your feet, facing the vehicle.
Your hands flew out to catch yourself, but, before meeting metal, intercepted Daryl’s broad form instead. He took a seat on the front end of the car and caught you in both of his big, calloused palms.
“How ‘bout that taste, hm?” He was already starting to unbuckle his pants.
Finally. You promptly started to sink to your knees, when a light slap struck your cheek. You peeked up at its source and found Daryl shaking his head once more.
“Stay put,” he instructed as he started to pull his cock out of his boxers, “Rick’s gonna fuck tha’ slutty little cunt while ya suck me off, alright?”
It wasn’t so much a question as it was a signal—and an effective one at that—to get Rick off his ass and hurrying to get behind yours. In the next second, you felt a set of warm, calloused hands on your hips and a tender grip tugging you back to meet someone’s crotch.
Your pussy twitched with the realization of your current predicament: bent over between the two men, with Daryl’s cock mere inches from your face and Rick’s member throbbing above your heat. Never once had an image like this materialized in your mind’s wildest fantasies, but now that you were here, stuck between these two with Shane just then drawing closer, you found yourself turned on to no end.
You parted your lips to allow Daryl entry when Rick teased the head of his cock up your slit. You took just the tip of Daryl, trying to stifle a moan, and the man behind you rubbed the length of himself up and down the seam of your cunt to collect all your juices. Another inch of Daryl in your mouth and you were whimpering with the feeblest look up at him, needing Rick inside you too.
Daryl held your gaze and ran a hand over your head.
“Little slut needs her pussy fucked, does she?”
You nodded, bobbing gently over Daryl’s member. You were just preparing to ease him in another inch or two when all of a sudden, the head of his cock jumped to the back of your throat as Rick thrusted into you.
It was far less gentle than you’d expected, sending you deep down Daryl’s length and causing you to gag. You hardly had time to adjust, or pull off of the man in front of you to catch your breath, when Rick started pounding you from behind. Rutting his hips, grunting in time with his thrusts, and slapping your ass in quick, ruthless hits. Daryl groaned above you as you had no choice but to deepthroat him again and again.
Shane, ever impatient, approached your free hand and guided it toward his erection. He wrapped your fingers around his cock and helped you stroke him quick, all while your mouth and pussy were presently occupied by Daryl and Rick’s sloppy thrusts.
“Ya like gettin’ spitroasted, huh? Like gettin’ fucked in two holes at once?” Shane sneered.
“Fuckin’ loves it,” Rick answered for you with a smirk, “Never seen a pussy this wet in my life.”
You imagined all of them could see and hear the arousal oozing from your freshly-fucked cunt, but you sensed no one liked it better than Daryl. The man was entranced with the sight of your form getting fucked from behind, sucking him deeper, looking up through your wet, tear-stained lashes as you let him fuck your face. That pure euphoric look in his eyes was almost like a drug—you wanted nothing more than to keep it there as long as you could.
Mere minutes later, Rick’s hips were stuttering against your own and his cum was spraying all over your insides. You didn’t stop sucking Daryl.
Shane gladly switched places with Rick and took a greedy handful of your hips before pumping his cock once or twice. You flattened your tongue against Daryl’s member and took him even further down your throat.
The man behind you was panting, right about to breach your folds when a sight below him held him in place.
Rick’s load was just then starting to dribble out of your pussy, leaving a long white trail of milky residue down your slit.
Shane clenched his jaw.
“Still hungry for more, slut?” he said through gritted teeth. To your surprise, you felt his fingertips trace the outline of your cunt and start moving up toward your other hole.
He was coating your asshole with Rick’s cum, grinning when you flinched.
“Think she’s ever been fucked in the ass before?” Shane asked the others. He slipped a digit inside your hole and watched you moan on Daryl’s dick.
Daryl pulled you off his cock and held you by your hair, your mouth saturated with strings of fresh saliva.
“Have you?”
You swallowed and shook your head. Daryl didn’t let his gaze linger on you another second. He signaled to Rick.
“Right there,” he pointed with his chin.
You hardly knew what was going on or where Rick had hastened off to. All you could comprehend was the gruff tone of Daryl’s voice telling you to get up, now, and the feel of Shane’s hands still holding you, guiding you back to your feet. When you didn’t move fast enough for his liking, Shane simply swept you up in his arms bridal-style and started carrying you himself.
Over his shoulder, you spied Daryl and Rick exchanging words and the latter placing the blanket you’d worn earlier on the ground. You almost felt tempted to ask Shane what they were planning to do, just starting to speak, when the man brought you over to the spot and set you right down.
The three of them had you circled in an instant.
Before the question could even form on your lips, you watched Daryl join you on the blanket. His smirk was evident.
He patted his lap for you to come straddle him.
When he started to lie down, your hands followed suit, eager to rest on either side of his chest, but another touch held you back. Behind you, Shane had grabbed hold of your hair and turned your head to face him.
“Spit,” he ordered, holding his hand under your chin.
You did as you were told and watched him rub your spit all over his shaft, before bringing his hand up to your face again and repeating his command.
At the same time, Daryl had lifted his hips and was guiding you closer to his cock. Your gaze moved down, then up, then over at Rick with a look of confusion, only to dart back to Daryl when you felt him split you open with a single thrust.
You had just been impaled on Daryl’s cock, mind reeling at the stretch and sensation, when you felt two fingers slip between your legs from behind. Daryl gripped your face and brought it down to his—wouldn’t let you look over your shoulder as the other man’s hand started to traverse the contour of your ass.
You were pulled in for a kiss as Daryl bottomed out inside you. Tongue hardly able to keep up with his as moans and whimpers went bubbling up in your throat, you just sat there, straddled him, and let him use your pussy any way he pleased. He snapped his hips and groaned your name between your lips, while the hand that was prodding you from behind finally reached its intended destination.
You yelped into Daryl’s mouth the second you felt a full, hefty finger slip inside your ass. Officer Walsh, no doubt.
The two men at your rear all but moaned as your tight little hole contracted around Shane’s finger and Daryl continued to pound you from below. It was odd, that sharp, disparate feeling of Daryl’s cock drilling your pussy while Shane’s digit pumped a much slower pace in your ass. Your senses had kicked into overdrive, and you couldn’t keep from showing your pleasure with every sound that you made.
Shane withdrew just long enough to add another finger, smearing a mixture of cum, spit, and your own juices all over your walls for lubrication. You sensed him moving closer, when Rick grabbed hold of his shoulder.
“Give her a minute,” he muttered.
Shane scoffed, shaking him off.
“Little whore looks plenty ready to me,” he retorted as he eyed your slick, sensitive hole.
Suddenly, your throat was clasped in Shane’s big hand and your head pulled tight against his chest. He had taken his cock in his other hand and was angling his length just right to press the head between your cheeks. Daryl had slowed almost completely.
“C’mere.” Daryl beckoned you closer with a tender look. When you leaned down to lay flat on his chest, he smiled, stroked your hair, “Jus’ hold on ta me, alright?”
Your walls were already squeezing his cock like a vice and your fingernails making white-hot crescents in his shoulders—you couldn’t hold him tighter if you tried—but you nodded. You let him kiss you again, felt a little more fit to take his tongue this time, and eased down along his shaft until you were filled to the brim with nothing but him.
That last part changed as soon as Shane thrust into your ass.
You jolted forward and instinctively tried to pull off his cock, but Daryl held you tight. Brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face and started peppering your skin with kisses the louder you whimpered.
“Doin’ so good for us, baby— takin’ our cocks so well,” he cooed in your ear.
You whined at the fierce burn between your legs as both Daryl and Shane pushed inside you. Rough fucking was one thing, but being penetrated in both holes simultaneously while sandwiched between two men just brought the sensations to entirely new heights. You clawed at Daryl’s shoulders and damn near sunk your teeth straight through your bottom lip.
“Good girl,” the man below you mumbled as he watched your face contort in a medley of pleasure and pain, “Tha’s my good girl.”
“Fuckin’ whore,” Shane spat, shoving his cock even deeper. Clearly not one for tender anal training.
Now it was Daryl going slow and sweet, just barely stirring his cock inside you while Shane slapped your ass and yanked your hips over his own. You saw Rick’s previously-deflated cock grow hard in his hands, and you proceeded to watch him watch you as he stroked himself a few feet away.
You needed another distraction. You caught Rick’s eye and simply licked your lips in silent invitation. He was filling your mouth in a matter of seconds.
With three cocks pumping in and out of you, you felt every bit the fucked-out brat you knew they’d wanted to claim. Your brain had all but melted to mush in their hands, your body manhandled and fucked every which way while your thoughts yielded, in turn, to pure anoesis.
There was something unusually freeing about being a living, breathing fuckdoll for these three King County cops. You couldn’t get enough.
Rick pulled his dick out of your mouth just long enough to slap you with it.
“This what ya needed?” he teased, tapping the head of his cock on your spit-painted cheeks, “A good fucking in all your holes to make you behave?”
You stuck out your tongue and tried to nod, your body still shaking with every thrust from Daryl and Shane. Instead of pushing back in, Rick simply rubbed his cock all over your face and shot you a look that was soaked to the core with condescension. Somewhere below, Daryl began toying with your clit.
You sucked in a breath between broken moans and clenched harder around both men inside you.
“Think she wants a switch,” Rick grinned.
In a minute, you felt yourself hoisted back up—Shane pulling out and Daryl rising swiftly to his feet. Two sets of hands helped maneuver your body to a position you’d never tried, never even seen before as your legs hooked over either one of Daryl’s arms and your ass was thrust back. Then, to your relief, it was Rick at your rear this time, rubbing his tip along your red and stretched out hole while your head came to rest on his shoulder.
You were pressed between the men once more and cradled comfortably in their arms. Daryl took care not to rut into you too hard while Rick was still coating your arousal across the hole Shane had just fucked raw.
“Shh, shh,” Rick’s lips dropped close to your ear while he pressed a wet finger inside, trying to relubricate the area.
You wiggled and squirmed, a bit too sensitive to keep still at this point, so Shane reached in and took you by the throat.
“Hold still,” he snapped. Stroking himself with his free hand.
You watched his eyes drift down to the spot where he’d just been, where Rick was trying to squeeze into, and felt the first real twinge of bliss when you felt the head of his cock tease your entrance. This was softer, even sweet. Paired with Daryl’s extra slow thrusts and the sounds all three were making as you spread your legs even wider, you first became aware of a knot in your tummy.
When the warmth of your ass enveloped just the tip of him, you felt it constrict even tighter.
Rick let out a groan and struggled to keep from thrusting too hard. Shane tightened his grip on your neck.
“C’mon now, sugar tits, don’t act like you ain’t just—”
“Shane,” Daryl growled.
Rick didn’t stop. You squeezed both cocks and moaned.
“I’m just sayin’ if the slut could fit my cock in and—”
“Fuck,” Rick hissed.
You were bouncing in between them now, head lolled back on Rick’s shoulder and hand pressed flush against Daryl’s chest. Steeped in pleasure as they stood and fucked you stupid.
Shane continued to tug his cock and stare you down with hungry, possessive eyes.
Daryl’s moans turned to shallow grunts while Rick’s breath fanned soft across your cheeks in ragged breaths. You writhed and you grinded between their two bodies, too lost in your own ascent to pleasure to sense anything else. Your skin was wet with a sheen of sweat and both holes all but soaked between the two men. Their cocks plunging in and out at a vicious pace until the coil in your stomach was nearly starting to ache.
“Feelin’ good?” Rick hummed in your ear.
“Gettin’ close?” Daryl joined.
Shane’s hand closed around your throat until your lungs could scarcely breathe and your vision blurred with stars. Making one last strangled moan, you rolled your hips and felt something taut and tight and blisteringly hot break loose across your abdomen—and not just the ropes of cum shooting deep inside you.
Alongside that tiny eruption came a blitz of pleasure unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your body went haywire, every square inch of your skin alight with ecstasy and your mind going numb in a surge of bliss. You moaned and felt the walls of both holes spasm desperately over Daryl and Rick alike, and suddenly, something far beyond your control seemed ready to tear your body in two.
A beat of silence. Your consciousness gradually returned.
When you opened your eyes, the first thing to grace your sight was Daryl’s shining face, grinning ear to ear with the happiest expression.
You blinked and watched him closer.
As your vision adjusted and the world came clearer into view, you caught a glimpse of what seemed to have stretched Daryl’s smile so wide—and what had made his features so unusually luminous in this light.
Your eyes widened.
Daryl glanced to Rick, then Shane.
“Who knew she’d be a squirter?”
Presently, your juices were coating Daryl’s face and chest, having spurted straight from your cunt in the throes of climax and spraying all over his front.
Your pussy still clenched and convulsed as the cum from either man went seeping out of both holes.
Even Shane was left speechless, having just milked the last of his own release and watched you come undone in near-pornographic fashion. His chest was still heaving, blinking in disbelief and exchanging sly looks with Daryl and Rick every now and then. Rick pressed a kiss to your shoulder and smiled.
And, just when it seemed any one of you were liable to break that spell of silence with a laugh, the rattle of radio feedback startled you all.
Somewhere amidst the articles of clothing strewn around you, a walkie talkie clipped to one officer’s belt rang loud with the sound of a voice from a neighboring county’s dispatcher.
“All available units, high-speed pursuit in progress— Linden County units request local assistance. Highway 18 eastbound, GTA, ADW, 2-17, 2-4-3. Advise extreme caution.”
All three men stood to attention. Daryl and Rick lowered you quickly to the ground while Shane went scrambling for his clothes.
“Suspects are two male Caucasians. Be advised they have fired upon police officers. One Linden County officer is wounded.”
“Shit!” Rick hissed.
“Unit 1, unit 3, to eastbound Route 18. Two miles west of Interstate 85. Will patch in Linden County sheriff radio.”
“Is tha’—” Daryl started.
“We need to go,” Shane interrupted.
Another voice broke out over the line,
“Roger that. We’re five minutes south of the Route 18 intersection.”
Daryl tossed you what garments of yours he could find and snatched your arm in a breakneck haste. Before you could so much as slip your shirt over your head, though, you found yourself carted back over to his squad car and pushed toward an open door.
“What’s—”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
For reasons you couldn’t yet understand, you knew this call didn’t bode well for any of you. You took one last look at Officer Grimes and felt a twist in your stomach.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon one shot#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#twd imagine#rick grimes smut#shane walsh smut#rickyl
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pervy old man logan save me pervy old man logan save meeeeee
─ Pervy! Old man Logan Howlett x fem! reader || WC: 1.4k
CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Age gap implied [Logan is canon age, reader is 21+]. Bit of flirting (if you squint). Logan is a little pervy (duh). Wandering eyes. Panty stealing. Panty sniffing. Upskirting. Lewd thoughts. Bit of voyeurism. Teasing. Hints of degradation. Use of pet names (hun, darlin', princess). Mutual Masturbation (sorta). Groping. Clitoral stimulation. Possible dub-con at the end (reader is under the influence). Mentions of reader's clothing: skirts, dresses, sexy attire due to working at a club. Reader is hinted to be a little naive.
Be soooo glad that I love you. (And I do, very much). This is for the real ones that just want to fuck that nasty old man, and this is a bit different than what I usually write, but I had a thought and I ran with it. Hope you all enjoy this little crazy piece!
pervy! old man Logan who finds you working as a bottle girl in a downtown club after he drops off a bachelorette party, drawn to you when you step outside for some fresh air on your break. While chatting with him, you rant about your unfavorable living situation, and he proposes you take the spare room in his apartment under the guise of convenience and keeping you safe. You take it, not thinking of anything besides getting much-needed help
pervy! old man Logan who doesn’t mind having you around in his apartment. You’re quiet, neat, and not to mention a sight for sore eyes. He finds his gaze wandering over your figure when you walk around the space you share with him. Of course, he does that when you aren’t paying attention.
pervy! old man Logan who wakes up a bit early to make some coffee and breakfast for the both of you. He stands over the stove and gestures to your mug on the counter filled with freshly brewed coffee made just the way you like.
pervy! old man Logan who converses with you in the morning, asking how you slept and your plans for the day. He uses it as a good excuse to look at your chest, the stiff peaks of your nipples poking through the material of your baggy t-shirt.
pervy! old man Logan who approves of the skimpy outfits you wear for your work shifts at the club. Your attire consisted of latex shorts and tight bodysuits that leave nothing to the imagination, and he’s always looking at you, ready to give you the praise and approval you seek.
“Yeah darlin’, it fits like a glove. Turn around for me, gotta get the whole view.”
pervy! old man Logan who drives you to and from work for your shifts. Late at night, he waits for you outside and leans against the side of his limo, smoking a cigar as he does. When you step out and stride towards him with a sway in your hips after a good shift, you lean against him for a hug. He follows through, squeezing your waist with one arm, fingers almost sneaking towards your ass.
pervy! old man Logan who looks at your thighs shifting as he drives. His palm itches to touch your skin, to squeeze you hard enough to bruise and leave his mark. But he refrains, tightening his grip on the steering wheel instead.
pervy! old man Logan who watches you change from the gap of your bedroom door, ogling at your bare back as you walk around your room, finding something to wear. You finally turn, giving Logan a nice view of your bare breasts, nipples stiff from the cool air. He can feel his slacks getting tighter just from looking at you, his mouth craving for a taste of you.
pervy! old man Logan who offers to help put on your shoes when you’re wearing dresses or skirts. He’ll place your foot on his thigh and tie your heeled boots while your hands are on his shoulders for balance. He doesn’t mind helping you out so long as he gets a good glimpse at the underwear you’re wearing for the day.
pervy! old man Logan who teases you and plays with the edges of your clothes frequently. You’ll walk beside him doing grocery runs or passing by him when you reach for a cup in the overhead cabinets in the kitchen. He takes it as an opportunity to intentionally lift your bottoms to prove how provocative your clothes are. Blatantly whistling at your ass coming to view, you smack his hand away and grow flustered. He only chuckles at your reaction.
“C’mon, hun. You don’t gotta get all shy on me. It’s not my fault these skirts are just too damn short.”
pervy! old man Logan who takes your panties when he’s doing the laundry, admiring the thin pieces of fabric you concealed under your clothes. The first time he found your underwear in his batch of laundry, he ran his fingers over the gusset, bringing it up to his nose and taking a whiff. He stuffs the pair into his pocket, saving it for later to wrap over his length when you’re asleep.
pervy! old man Logan who knows you get yourself off in the late hours of the night or early in the morning when you think he’s sleeping. He can hear you through the thin walls of the apartment, his heightened senses working overtime to catch the muted whimpers you release as you touch yourself. He tries to imagine what position you’re in, if you were completely naked or still had your underwear on, lying on your back or your face smushed into the pillow, arching your spine. He brings a hand cup himself, jerking off in tandem to your moans, wishing it were your fingers curling around his cock instead.
pervy! old man Logan who brings you home after you’ve had too many drinks at work, a result of serving a bachelor party and keeping them entertained with tequila shots. It paid off. You got a hefty tip at the end of the night, evident from the giddy expression on your face when you exit the front doors. Logan is waiting for you outside the club like usual, holding your figure steady against him as you giggle into his chest from your wobbly steps.
pervy! old man Logan who keeps a hand on your knee the entire drive back to the apartment. You didn’t seem to mind it this time, staring off into the window and watching the streetlights pass you. Humming a tune to yourself, you glance at Logan when his hand drifts higher to your thigh, offering a squeeze and receiving a sweet smile in return.
pervy! old man Logan who “helps” you get comfortable once you’re both home. You don’t say anything when he tugs your clothes away, stripping you of your shorts and tights, your top coming off next. You have half a mind to tell him you didn’t need his help, he knows you can handle yourself, but all he does is give you a toothy smirk.
“Easy. Just trying to make sure you’re taken care of. I always take care of you baby, don’t I?”
pervy! old man Logan who takes off your bra and flings it to the side, leaving you in your undies. You look up at him, slightly in a daze, taking in his rugged appearance. His large hands are on your hips, keeping you upright as your breathing grows uneasy, warmth coursing through you along with the alcohol you consumed.
pervy! old man Logan who steps closer to you, chest to chest, hovering over your body and listening to your heart beating in your ribcage. His textured palms begin to roam, running down your spine and reaching to cup your ass, kneading the flesh between his fingers. You whimper, gripping Logan’s button-down shirt to ground yourself.
pervy! old man Logan who places one singular kiss on your shoulder and another on your neck, biting your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to come out. Here you were, tipsy and left to his mercy, panties beginning to stick as slick blossomed between your legs. All the touching, teasing, and toying around from the man who’s cared for you is now coming to fruition. Maybe you should be a little worried, but somewhere along the way, you stopped giving a shit.
pervy! old man Logan who grins widely when you lean further against him, releasing a quivering exhale when his fingers slip between your thighs, rubbing your clit through the lace that covered you. He groans at the feel of how wet you’ve gotten for him, the specific pair of panties he’s touching was a personal favorite he’s “borrowed” a few times before rewashing them. Your core throbbed under his touch, lifting your head to stare at him, pupils blown. He could feel the blood in his body rushing south to tug at his groin, the bulge you felt at your lower stomach growing harder with every passing minute.
“How about you give your old man a kiss and let him play with you a little? Doesn’t that sound nice, princess?”
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