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minervadashwood · 5 days

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Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 32

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Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Taglist

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Summary: It's been a week or so since Glenn and T-Dog saved Rick. Now, your pack is getting settled in new place. Word count: 3K This chapter contains: Nesting, going into heat, firearms, smut.

Author's note: I am a little behind on posting chapters to tumblr. So I'll be trying to fix that in the next few days.

Nest.

It was all you could think about as you took water and soap to every surface in the kitchen. The other rooms had been cleaned, from top to bottom, including the loft and the basement. The loft had a low ceiling, but Ro and Merle had made their bed up there, using an air mattress and sleeping bags. Carl slept on the main floor, closest to the wood stove, while you, Rick, and Daryl had a makeshift bed in the basement. It was a far cry from your house, a home filled with Daryl’s handiwork, not to mention modern furniture. All that remained were some old, hand-made chairs and a small kitchen table.

This cabin, like the others around it, was old, from the 1850s, you’d guessed, based on the structure and style. In more recent years the land had been repossessed then abandoned. Before then, generations of Dixons had lived here, in their own version of Walton’s mountain, before the Great Depression.

Despite the bedding downstairs in the basement of this old, cozy cabin, your omega was desperate for safety, seclusion, and comfort.

As you cleaned, you were also looking after Carl. He sat at the table, still and focused as he drew pictures to give Lori and Shane when they arrived. He’d grown quiet over the last few days, since you left home.

You hoped, for his sake, that Lori and Shane would get here soon.

The past few days remained a chaotic whirlwind, made all the worse by your biological imperative. Soon after you met Glenn and T-Dog, your mates decided it was time to get out of town, before things got worse.

The next morning, you packed what you could: clothes, food, and supplies. When it came time to pack up the pillows and blankets from your nest, you sat frozen in your nest, trying not to cry. That’s how Daryl found you when it was almost time to go.

“C’mon, Bubbie,” he said, clearing space so he could sit next to you. “You’ll make a new one.”

“You built this for me,” you replied gesturing at the bed, then running your hand along the shelves behind it. “You made this a home. For us.”

Daryl gathered you in his arms. “Yer the one who made it a home. ‘Sides we’ll come back when it dies down.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think we will. The way Glenn describes the city…I don’t think this will be safe for a long time if the dead are migrating here.” You took a deep breath. “I know we have to go.”

“Don’ mean it’s easy,” he said, hugging you. After a moment, he got off the bed and opened one of the cherry wood chests he’d made for your nesting materials. He dumped out all the unused, pillows and blankets, still in their plastic wrapping.

What to take was your decision, but Daryl helped you, arranging everything in the chest, and packing it tightly.

Later, when it was time to go, Rick reassured you, too. “We’ll get you a place for your nest in time.”

“What if we have to move again, while I’m in heat?” you asked. “It will be soon.”

“I know. We both do. That’s why we’re goin’ now. And it’s why we need to stick together. Not just us, but the new guys, too.”

You nodded. Rick wrapped you up in a tight hug.

“We owe them. I owe them,” you said. “They brought you back to me.” Even in the short time you’d known Glenn and T, you knew them to be good people. T-Dog, an alpha, kept his distance from you; he must have known you were close to your heat, but you’d gotten to know Glenn a little. He had strategic way of thinking, and you thought maybe he was some sort of weekend warrior. But no, just a delivery driver.

Now, in the cabin, you gripped the edge of the sink, panic rising. Trying to control your breathing, you glanced at the wooden chest sitting by the basement door. Then, you stared at Carl’s back, as a sudden, unwelcome wave of frustration came over you. Your omega didn’t want him near your nest. In fact, it didn’t even want your mates near it, not yet.

Outside, Merle and Ro kept watch while your mates were clearing out other cabins, making them livable. T and Glenn took one, next to yours. You bristled at having strangers so close by when your heat was imminent, but you owed them.

The front door swung open, and you flinched, letting out a whimper of surprise. Despite the gust of cold wind from the door, you were too hot to even notice, but Carl shivered.

Daryl stepped in, quickly closing the door, and going to add logs to the wood stove.

He took one look at you, and whether it was your bond or Daryl’s keen eye, he seemed to know exactly what you needed. Jutting his chin toward the basement, he sat down next to Carl, distracting the boy while you went to make your nest.

The chest was too heavy for you to carry, and through your bond you felt Daryl’s impulse to help you. Rejecting it and putting up a mental wall, you grabbed armfuls of your blankets and pillows, making a few trips up and down the basement stairs. When you were done, you locked the door at the top of the steps and got to work.

The padded mats you cleaned earlier had dried. One still held hints of Daryl’s musk, pine, so you put it in the center foundation of your nest and started arranging everything around it. Nestled in the corner of the room, the nest began to grow. Releasing your perfume, you set about making the entire area yours. Blankets were piled on top of each other, pillows lined the walls. After hours of work, you were almost satisfied and crept back up the stairs to find the house empty except for Daryl and Rick, who were both pacing in the open-spaced living room and kitchen.

“Carl?” you said, still on edge, but in control of your anxiety for the moment.

“With Jesus.” Rick assured you.

“Whaddaya need from us, Bubbie?” Daryl asked, his voice low and soft.

“I need your clothes, something,” you said, your voice almost whiny. Your first heat had been so perfect. But this heat was different. You couldn’t be sure your pack would even be safe here, or how long you could stay in one place. Especially with Rick and Daryl unable to protect everyone like they had been.

Wasn’t it selfish of you to need them like you did? Not just one, but both? Yet how could you choose? Yes, you were more in sync with Daryl, but he’d claimed you and been with you for half a year now. You cared just as much for Rick, and soon you’d be bonded with him, too.

Daryl started striding across the room, but you backed away, shaking your head.

“Not yet.”

Rick shrugged out of his fur-lined deputy’s coat and untucked his shirt, unbuttoning it as you watched. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, his soft dusting of hair enticing. Your stomach clenched and all you wanted was to lay on top of him and let him ease the growing ache in your belly.

Meanwhile, Daryl froze in place, and, although it took you a moment, you finally realized what you’d inadvertently asked of him. Quickly, you opened your suitcase and started pulling out unwrapped Christmas presents. What a simpler time that had been, when your most pressing worry was dropped stitches and miscounted rows.

Setting some things on the kitchen table, you approached Daryl with his poncho, it was hooded, with two layers of thick wool.

“Trade for your coat?” you asked him.

He took it and brought it to his nose, sniffing deeply.

“Ya make this? Fer me?”

You nodded. “I did some research and it’s supposed to keep you warm while you use your crossbow.”

Your mate’s face was red, and he was blinking quickly as he stared down at the gift.

“Merry Christmas,” you said quietly. Daryl nodded without looking up, refusing to meet your eyes or Rick’s.

“I-I-I have more,” you stammered, unnerved by Daryl’s reaction. Why would he cry over a poncho? You gave Rick his wide scarf and matching gloves. Daryl had a pair of gloves, too, fingerless with rubber grips sewn on the underside—for driving his motorcycle.

“Bunny,” Rick breathed, still shirtless and sniffing his scarf. “These are amazing. And your scent is all over them.”

Daryl grunted, and got out of his coat, handing it to you, and putting on his poncho.

“’S real nice, ‘mega,” he said, adjusting the poncho on his shoulders then grabbing his crossbow from where it sat nearby.

Clutching Daryl’s coat and then grabbing Rick’s shirt, you said. “Soon. But --”

Daryl looked up. “Ya dun wan’ anyone in ‘ere but us.”

You nodded.

Rick said, “While your finishin’ up, we’ll get Carl settled in with Jesus. Already talked to him about your heat.”

“You did?”

“Carl knows that you’ll need me— us -- for a few days.”

Of course, children knew, vaguely what an omega in heat entailed. Not the actual mating, but the privacy, the duty of alphas to care for their partners.

“And the others?” you asked.

“Merle swore off drinkin’ an’ Ro’s good with the kid. Glenn and T helpin’ with keepin’ watch.”

Their reassurances consoled you. Besides, the betas in your pack knew what they needed to do, and you trusted them. But Carl…he had been taken from his mom and now his dad, too.

You pointed to two crocheted Woobles on the table. “These are for Carl.” Both were dinosaurs from his favorite cartoon.

“I’ll make sure he gets them,” Rick said.

“Go’n now,” Daryl told you, jutting his chin at the basement door. “Be dark soon, an’ cold.”

You nodded, renewed determination compelling you to tweak your nest until it was perfect and cozy for your alphas, for yourself, and for the days that followed.

Finally, your nest was as close to perfect as it was going to get. Surveying the pile of blankets and pillows, your omega was finally happy to have a place to share with your mates.

Despite the stress of the past few days, a glimmer of happiness bloomed. Rick could claim you. Daryl would make love to you. And the world outside would fall away.

Skin still hot, you left the basement in search of your men. You’d been cramping steadily for the past hour, nothing unmanageable but growing more intense as time went on.

Outside, you heard the rumble of engines, and a wave of tension hit you. Not your own, but Daryl’s

Grabbing your coat, you ran outside, finding Daryl on the porch and Rick standing in the worn path near the house. A little behind Rick were Merle and Ro; Merle with a shotgun pointed at the winding path that led to the cabins.

In the distance, three vehicles approached, a Jeep, a Cherokee, and an RV.

“That’s Shane and Lori,” Rick said, but his hand was on the butt of his revolver, you noticed.

You approached Daryl, standing next to him as he held his crossbow, lowered, but seemingly ready to aim at a moment’s notice.

“You said it was just them two,” Merle shouted. “Then explain the rest of ‘em.”

The cars continued to approach, Rick glanced around, his eyes landing on Merle, who had his rifle raised.

“Put that down, Merle,” Rick ordered.

“Ya gonna make me?”

Daryl gruffly shouted, “Merle!”

Merle shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. If y’all wanna risk it, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

Glenn, from across the way, spoke up. “It’s all good. More people, yeah? Safer that way.”

You agreed with Glenn and Rick, at least on principle. Yet, right now, on the verge of your heat, the thought of strangers being near you or your nest, felt like a threat on your pack’s territory.

Just then, Carl ran out of the cabin next door, without a coat on. Merle lowered his gun even more at the sight of the pup, but you could still see the tension in his shoulders. Next to him, Ro was quiet and still, his hand at his side holding a gun.

The red Jeep barely came to a stop before Lori appeared, throwing herself out of the passenger side door and running to Carl. Shane got out, too, and you relaxed at that. If Rick trusted Shane enough to tell him about this place, then the people with Shane had to be trustworthy, too, right?

Shane’s scent didn’t alarm you, not like it had the first time you’d met him, but there were more alphas’ scents emanating as other people emerged from their vehicles. One alpha’s odor burnt in your nostrils; when a balding, scowling man looked your way, you knew it was him. In the same car were a thin woman and a cowering little girl, who was around Carl’s age.

The alpha stared at you, his eyes bulging, it seemed, making you gasp and hide behind Daryl. Daryl squared his shoulders and adjusted his grip on the crossbow as Rick took an intimidating step toward the strange alpha.

Still, the frightening man didn’t look away.

Rick’s voice sliced through your fog. “Inside. Now.”

Not a command, and not directed at you.

Daryl said, “Holler if—”

“I will,” Rick replied, keeping his eyes on the strangers.

Daryl took you by the arm and guided you back into the cabin. Inside the warm living room, you took off your outerwear as quickly as you donned it moments ago. Your body was at war with your mind. Cramps of need swept through your middle, beginning the incessant pulsing at your core. You reached for the kitchen table to steady yourself, but Daryl caught you, holding you tightly against him, your backside pressing against his front. Slick moistened your underwear, and Daryl’s reaction was nearly instantaneous as you felt him grow hard against you.

Glancing out the windows to see Rick shaking hands with the strangers, you trembled as Daryl let out a possessive growl and rubbed his scent on you. Melting against him with a whimper, you let your instincts take over, ignoring the activity outside. With a huff, Daryl let go of you for just a moment to shoulder his crossbow, then he practically shoved you to the basement door. Eagerly you obeyed, flying down the stairs and burrowing on top of your nest.

“Daryl,” you whined, stripping off your layers of warm clothing and gazing up at him.

He locked the door, and after placing his weapon nearby, Daryl laid next to you, pulling you against him and running his teeth along your neck.

“Fuck, Bubbie,” he groaned, and began kissing his mark. With his hand on your hip, he pulled you to him and threw a leg over you, kissing and fondling you onto your back. Ridding himself quickly of his clothes, Daryl lowered himself above you, his bare skin on yours as he settled between your legs and kissed you again.

Your core throbbed, clenching and unclenching, demanding more than kisses from the alpha on top of you. Daryl started pressing his cock to the apex of your thighs, just slowly grinding his hips against you as his mouth and hands worked you to a fever pitch. You grabbed at him, too, sinking your nails into his back, squeezing his upper arms, reaching for his ass to urge him closer. Daryl was frantic and somehow still gentle, knowing all your favorite places for his mouth and hands. The scent of your arousal only grew stronger, and Daryl groaned in response. Fumbling, he rearranged himself so he rested on one forearm while his other hand cupped your mound. Taking one breast into his mouth, Daryl sucked and nipped at your sensitive bud as he slipped a finger inside you.

“Yer so wet, ‘mega’” he told you, “Jus’ lettin’ me right in. Feel so good on my hand.”

Your belly fluttered at his praise. Raising your hips to meet his hand you moved slowly, then with more intensity as he added another finger. His hand knew just how to make you come unraveled.

“Yes, Daryl, please .” you begged, getting close.

Suddenly, Daryl’s fingers left you, and you cried out in protest. He silenced you with a kiss on your mouth, immediately breaching the seam of your lips with his tongue. At the same time, his cock slipped through your folds and found its home in your soaking, needy pussy.

“Ye-e-e-sss,” you moaned. His cock was so big and perfect, stretching you and filling you. When he started moving you hung onto him for dear life, savoring the feel of him inside you, of his mouth on yours, of his entire body caging you in.

In your soul, you felt Daryl too, his passion and his desire, crashing into you the more he worked your body. He paused his kisses and locked eyes with you, holding your face in his hands as he thrust, the steady movement of his cock inside you sending you over the edge.

“I love you, Daryl,” you moaned, pulsing around him and holding his gaze. His knot notched into place, and he came, filling you even more. Nuzzling your gland and his mark, Daryl kissed you gently, then his mouth moved, lightly kissing your jaw then your mouth. He collapsed on top of you then rolled you over so you could lay on his chest, his knot holding you together. Reaching beside you, you found one of your favorite knitted blankets and covered you both.

Still breathing heavily, Daryl cradled you in his arms, teeth teasing your earlobe as you sighed against him.

“I love ya, too, Bubbie,” he whispered, speaking the words aloud for the first time.

You wondered if he felt the fullness of your heart through the bond. He must have because he sighed and relaxed, whispering more sweet words in your ear.

“So perfect, my omega, so strong.”

Almost nothing else existed as Daryl held you in your makeshift nest. Only one piece was missing, and as you nestled into Daryl’s chest, you hoped that Rick would join you soon.

To be continued.

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ikiprian · 28 days

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Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)

Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.

He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)

Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.

(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)

So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!

Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.

With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.

Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!

It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.

#ecto has a weird effect on them actually. a lot like how danielle drinks ecto to keep her stable #ecto has positive health benefits for gothamites! it boosts their immune system gives them a little more energy makes them less irritable #silly hc but i think its fun #also danny just. thought it was a normal ass interview. the person who hired him was heavily hinting at the criminal element of his job the #whole time. danny just kept thinking man i cant believe all interviews are like this in gotham. every one of the #m asks if im okay lying to cops. i am but its weird i never got asked this in amity #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dead on main #ghost kitchen au #danny fenton #jason todd #kipwrite

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intersectionalpraxis · 2 months

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🚨🚨

At noon today, my doorbell rang, and three plainclothes police officers introduced themselves. "Mr. Abou Jahjah, we are here at the request of Dutch authorities, acting through Interpol, to request that you delete this tweet concerning complaints against IDF soldiers by the #March30Movement."

I was taken aback. I asked for more details.

They responded that they were not sure of the details; they were merely following orders received through Interpol. My children were questioning, "Daddy, why are the police here? What did you do, Daddy?" The neighbors peered out from their windows... Although the officers maintained professionalism, I sensed they too felt somewhat uncomfortable, indicating the awkwardness of the situation. I ponder who directed them to undertake such an action on a Sunday and in such a manner. This feels like intimidation; it's political. It's not illegal to file complaints and discuss them publicly. This incident speaks volumes about our current state of affairs.

IDF soldiers from the Netherlands, Belgium, and other countries are involved in war crimes and genocide, boasting about their actions on social media, showing genocidal intent, and posing next to dead bodies and destroyed homes, including personal items of victims. Yet, the police show up at my door because I lead a movement that is legally filing complaints against these actions?

The Dutch authorities are mistaken if they think they can intimidate me or the #March30Movement. If anything, this incident only strengthens our resolve.

No tweets will be deleted. Our freedom of expression is not debatable. Our right to denounce attrocities even less. Our lawyers in many countries are preparing more complaints. We will communicate on all of them.

Nothing can halt our momentum. Even if they target me, our movement is not reliant on just one individual; it is a collective effort, and more people are joining every day. We are resolute. Bring it on!

#EndImpunity #FreePalestine #StopGazaGenocide

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politijohn · 11 months

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Source

#important #cop city #acab #politics #criminal justice system #us politics #police state #current events #news #government

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charlesoberonn · 5 months

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When you're so much of a bootlicker you even lie about licking the boots of a made up video game police

#can you believe a crime game about criminals committing street crimes makes you shoot at cops?

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gurugirl · 1 year

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The Con Artist | Part 1*

Summary: You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you he finds it difficult to resist your charms.

A/n: This is detective!harry x crimina!reader / y/n | This will be a short series (3-7? parts). The Con Artist Masterlist

6.7k words

Warning: Criminal activity detailed (drugging, stealing, conning), smut (oral sex)

◈ ◈ ◈

The first time you remember stealing anything was when you were about three years old. From what you recall, you were with your mother at a dollar store of some sort. On the bottom shelf in one of the aisles was a pretty mirrored compact. It snapped close with a satisfying click and opened up easily for your three-year-old hands and so you put it into your mother’s purse as she was bringing you out of the store.

Being three years old, though, you forgot all about the mirrored compact when she surprised you with a toy she bought for you. The next day she came across the stolen item and somehow, she knew you’d done it. Because maybe there had been some sort of pattern. You just can’t remember stealing before that day.

But then you started stealing clothes from the mall when you were older. Lip balm (you became fond of the Chanel lip balm in Light but frequently settled for a Lancôme or Clinique as they were usually easier to snatch up), candles (the expensive ones to make it worth your while), pens, and lighters. You stole anything small enough to be taken without anyone noticing.

The only time you ever got caught was when your mom found the mirrored case in her purse when you were three. Even now, 23 years later. Here you are, stealing for a living. The man lying on the bed you are standing next to is knocked out cold. You may or may not have slipped him a little something to send him off to sleepy time before he could take his pants off, but that was the game. He wanted something and so did you.

Yours was a simple grift. Straight men are easy. All you have to do is hang out in really nice clubs and bars near the nice neighborhoods. Dress a certain way. Talk a certain way. Compliment the man. Compliment him some more. Laugh at his attempt at flirting and play dumb. Definitely laugh at his jokes. Act dumb. Sit alone. Bat your lashes. That kind of bullshit.

The man would need to be rich, or if not rich, showy and cocky (because how fucking annoying is a showy cocky asshole with nothing to actually show for it?). You typically looked for a nice watch (Rolex is easy to spot, but the really expensive watches are Audemars Piguet and Patek Philippe). He’d need to be a little drunk. Or even desperate is fine. Sometimes drunk isn’t necessary. You just need to get him to take you to his home. Never to yours. Married men would suggest a hotel. And that could work too, under the right circumstances. And married men were special because they’d never report you.

Then, once you’re in his house you suggest a nightcap, a drink for your nerves you say (a lie because you don’t drink alcohol) and insist on making them yourself. Drop in enough crushed benzos and voila. The man thinks he’s about to get laid but he falls asleep fast and you steal his cash and his jewelry. And sometimes a few other things you can take with you on your way out the door.

Tonight’s meal is a married man but his wife is out of town. The “house” is in Hope Ranch but it’s more like a mansion. It’s massive and the guy is loaded. That’s all you care about.

You served him a gin and tonic with a lime wedge and 10 mg of crushed-up benzos. You poured yourself a tonic and chucked a lime in for good measure, so it looked like you were drinking too.

He brought you to his room after drinking his glass of nighty-night juice and you could tell it was taking effect. He fell asleep almost too quickly. But who were you to complain? His wallet was lying on the coffee table and his Rolex was an easy snag. You were out the door in less than an hour. He only had about $50 cash in his wallet but the Rolex would be worth around nine thousand dollars for you. You loved the dumbasses with the expensive watches the most. Rolexes are a dime a dozen. They’re the easiest to come by and the easiest to get rid of.

By the time you get back to your little studio, it’s past 3 am. You don’t live in the best part of LA but it’s also not bad. Koreatown has its moments. The supposedly haunted Gaylord Apartments studio has been your home for the last two years. You truly could afford something nicer but it’s hard to imagine paying more than you already do for rent. It’s a waste of money really. You’re living fine and saving your cash. You don’t want to be a thief all your life. Just for long enough to save up so you can go anywhere you want, buy a house for cash, and live out your days as an old maid who never found love. Because love seems like a pipe dream at this point.

Men suck. But then again, you’re not really much of a catch yourself. So ending up alone is probably your true calling. You’ll buy a bunch of books, get a few cats, maybe grow a garden and wear robes all day long. Drink cold juice and watch murder mysteries at night with your cats all curled up around you, and fall asleep on your couch because sleeping alone in your bed just sounds depressing. And maybe you’ll do some traveling. Who knows? You’ve amassed a decent amount of money. You’ve given yourself until 30 and then you’ll call it quits. Just a few more years.

At the Gaylord, you’re not allowed to have pets, but you can have fish. You crouch down to look into your aquarium and see that Buster and Barry are fine. They usually are. They’re pea puffers. Kind of cute really. But Buster killed his first mate, Brenda. When you introduced Barry, Buster left him alone. Buster and Barry don’t usually interact which is why they get along. You had no idea that puffers could tend to be aggressive but when Brenda was found belly up in the 10-gallon tank one Thursday evening after you’d secured a nice Saint Laurent coat and a Royal Oak Piguet, you were quite disappointed. You’d had such a good night too. The Royal Oak was worth close to $60 thousand. And the coat was just an extra on your way out the door. But poor Brenda. Dead in a day.

You turned off their fish tank light, “Goodnight boys.”

At night, when you were alone in your bed you’d think about the things you’d done. You never really found guilt anytime you thought back. You did feel like what you were doing was wrong, though. You knew that much, you just didn’t feel that bad about any of it, though. You’d made yourself a nice small fortune and you did it doing something you loved. Why did you love stealing from unsuspecting idiot men?

Who knows?

You had a mostly-typical upbringing. Your mom and dad split when you were five and you saw your dad every other weekend like most of your friends with their dads.

Your mom was a good mom. She took care of you. Loved you. Protected you. Encouraged you.

You didn’t have an unusual childhood. Others who had it far worse turned out normal. You had no excuse. No trauma to point at. No mental health problems ran in the family. No vendetta against men. Nothing to prove.

You just liked it. There was a thrill that came with it. And the better you got at it, the more fun it was. And you loathed the idea of working a regular job somewhere earning a living wage. A living wage. What a joke. You were earning like a CEO and not once did you ever have to put out for anyone you didn’t want to. Everything was on your terms.

You could sleep in as late as you wanted. Skip a day of work if you chose, never needing to call anyone to tell them you were taking a sick day. You could do two in one day if you were on a roll. Or you could abandon ship if the man you started chatting up turned out to be someone you could actually see yourself fucking. Because you did draw the line there.

If you started to become interested in the guy, or he was attractive enough, and he invited you back to his place you would have a choice to make. You could stay the course, drug him, and then steal his watch and his money or you could just have a fun night with an attractive man at his place. You wouldn’t steal from someone you’d slept with. You had some moral boundaries.

You were nice, though. You weren’t like a bitch to anyone. But I guess ask any of the men you’d stolen from and they’d have a different mind about that. You had a small handful of friends. You didn’t like letting people get too close, though. For good reason. Because when you got close it became harder to hide your dark secret. People always asked what you did for a living. What an intrusive question to ask anyone. You always made up some lie about working online and inputting data for a medical corporation. Something that pointed to you making just enough money that would explain your nice clothes and expensive purses, but also that would have you home during the day.

Your best friend, Raechel knows your secret. Probably your mom as well. Also, Josh who buys your stolen goods but that’s a different story. But that’s it. In the whole wide world, you have one person that you’ve told directly what you do (again, not counting Josh). Because you couldn’t hide it anymore. And Raechel is still around. She’s your best friend. Now your mom, well, you never told her but she knows. She’s not dumb.

Bright and early the next morning, if you can consider 11:30 am bright and early, you headed to your dealer slash fence man, Josh, after shooting him a message that you were on your way.

You had with you the white dial Rolex Daytona you took off of whatever his name was the night before. Now, this watch is worth about $20,000 but Josh would take a big cut of the profit because he was the one going and selling the stolen item, he needed to make money from the deal too. Plus whoever he sold it to wouldn’t pay him the full $20,000 either, because they also needed to make a profit.

You met him in your usual spot. He took a look at the jewelry and searched for the model reference number to make sure of its value. Then you left with $8,500 in cash and a quarter ounce of Girl Scout Cookies (that’s a nice strain of marijuana bud to clarify).

The bank wouldn’t take big ass deposits like that at a time or there’d be some kind of flag on your account and it would get reported to the IRS (protocol), so you generally would only deposit $3,000 at a time. Which also meant you had a large stash of cash in your apartment at all times. You tried to space out the deposits. Had multiple bank accounts at different banks, and went to different branches in different locations but cash was difficult to work with at times. It was the only part of the job you hated. Dealing with all that cash. Especially when you preferred to save most of it. You usually bought yourself nice things, but most of your money you didn’t touch. You were serious about your future plan of buying a house for cash and getting lots of cats.

Tonight you planned on going to the Warwick again. The last time you were there was six months ago. You’d gotten a big hit with a B-list celebrity and you didn’t want to show your face around there for a while just in case he found you there or anyone recognized you somehow. Six months seemed like a good amount of time to wait.

You stopped at your favorite café and picked up a latte and scone to go. Then you walked to Liberty Park to drink and eat your breakfast slash lunch in the sunshine.

You wondered who would be at the club tonight. The Warwick was usually crawling with celebrities (lots of money). You knew how to handle them all. It really didn’t take much though. Look cute, act dumb. Usually. There were a few times you’d encountered a celebrity or wealthy man who was looking for someone with substance, but that wasn’t what you were going for. You searched for the ones who wanted one fun night and nothing more.

You were sitting on the concrete ledge near the sculpture and sipping your hot latte when a shadow appeared blocking the sun from your body. You looked up to see a tall man looking down at you. Instantly you sat up straight. He was very attractive.

“Hi… I was hoping you could point me in the direction of The Ritz Carlton. I seem to be lost…” he looked at his cell phone and then held its screen to your face and you laughed, placing your latte down next to you.

You stood up and smiled and noticed he didn’t have a watch on his wrist (old habit), “You’re definitely lost. The nearest Ritz is gonna be like a 45-minute walk from here. It’s that way,” you pointed in the direction of the 110, though it couldn’t be seen from where you were.

“Fuck. Well, thank you, I guess. I’m new here and went for a walk and found myself enjoying the sun and now here I am. Lost puppy in a big city.”

The man had thick, dark hair, seafoam green eyes with a dark green limbal ring, richly pigmented lips, and a jawline that could cut rock. And he was British. Clearly from out of town.

You held out your hand and introduced yourself and he quickly wrapped his big paw around yours and you saw the tattoo on his wrist. His clothes didn’t indicate that he was well-off. But sometimes it was hard to tell. Some rich guys didn’t give a fuck. This one didn’t. If he was, in fact, wealthy.

“Harry. Nice to meet you. S’hard finding a friendly face in a new city. Do you live here?”

“I do. Not far from here. What are you in town for, Harry?” You asked, keeping eye contact. You didn’t know if you should size him up for a job or see if you could get him to take you back to his hotel for a fuck. This guy looked like he could fuck. Tall and broad, deep voice, and big hands. A dimpled smile.

“Ahh, just work. Plan to be here for about a month. Staying at The Ritz off Olympic while I’m in town,” he smirked at you and that was all you needed to hear to know he was interested. Yeah, you’d fuck him.

“Is that so? For a month huh? Here, let me give you my number, ya know, in case you need anyone to show you around. A friendly face like you said…” you gestured toward his phone so you could put your number in and he unlocked it and opened up his messages app.

You were bold. You had no problem picking up a guy to fuck. You just needed to be somewhat straightforward. Your jobs were different. Playing coy was the game when they wanted to feel like they were in charge. But when it came to actually fucking someone, you were in charge and you wanted them to know it.

“Seems quite forward to give your number to a complete stranger, Y/n,” he spoke your name, wrapping his lips around the vowels in the most sensual way. That mouth of his could do some damage. You swallowed.

You laughed and shrugged, “Not really. It’s just a number. Now, what you do with it is up to you. If you’re bold, you’ll use it.”

Harry grinned at you and the way you nearly let your knees buckle when you saw his dimples was not a normal reaction. But Harry was gorgeous. You'd let him fuck you if he was into it. Absolutely. This man could get it from the top to the bottom. He was well-muscled and sturdy under his clothes. Something told you he’d have a big dick too and you’d love to let him use it on you.

You shook yourself of your thoughts and Harry cleared his throat, “Well, thank you. I’ll certainly consider calling you,” he lifted his cell phone upward as he spoke.

You were a little disappointed by his remark. Consider calling you? What the fuck? Maybe he wasn’t straight. Would explain why you found him attractive. All the hot ones were some shade of gay. But he was flirting with you... Wasn’t he?

Harry waved as he walked off and you sat back down to finish your latte and dry scone.

◈ ◈ ◈

You got yourself dolled up and tried to erase the way you were feeling annoyed that Harry hadn’t messaged you or called you. You gave him your number. You were rarely rejected. Unless he was gay… You laughed at yourself as you sprayed your hair to hold the style and then looked at your phone again. It was 9 pm. The perfect time to show up at the Warwick. It was time to work.

You were let in with no problem, despite the long line to get in. No cover for you. You got yourself a soda water with lemon and sauntered around the perimeter. Lots of groups tonight. Some of the guys watched you walk by. But you were specific. Precise about the men you worked. The young ones in the groups were probably spending more than they could afford to be there. Not your type. You moved along the lower room until you spotted a group of men sitting together. Now, these guys were job material. Men with money.

You neared them slowly, sipping your soda water until one of them looked up and saw you. You smiled at him and kept walking until you found a place to sit where you could be in the sight line of the man with whom you smiled. He had his eyes on you alright.

You’d give it ten minutes before heading their way. Just to see if he’d come to you first. Just to see if he was into feeling like he had the upper hand. Sometimes older men preferred more traditional roles and liked to be the aggressor. Oh, little did they know…

You swung your left leg over your right one, letting your dress ride up your thigh so he could see what you were working with. You smiled at him again and then looked away, pretending to be caught in the act.

But then suddenly someone sat down next to you, catching you off guard. You jerked your neck toward the intruder (this was not uncommon), ready to tell him to buzz off when you were met with the warm smile of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Your look of disdain quickly turned to one of excitement and you couldn’t help the smile that crawled over your face at the sight of Harry. He was in a suit; his hair was styled just so with a thick curl falling over his forehead. He had rings on his fingers and he looked like he’d been drinking a little with dazed-out eyes on yours.

“Y/n. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his gaze dropped down to your dress and your thigh and then back up to your face.

You mimicked his display, dragging your eyes down his frame and back up to his handsome face, “It’s been a while since I’ve been out. Felt like a good night to have some fun.”

The man you’d scoped, was long forgotten as you and Harry began to chat. He was alone at Warwick. Like you. And he was hot. He was clearly a bit tipsy with the way he was so loose with touching your arm and your hand, the way he’d pause his eyes at your lips as you spoke.

The thing that really got you worked up was how he’d lean in to speak into your ear so you could hear him. It was necessary to do because the club was so loud, but you fucking loved having him so close you could smell him and feel his voice vibrating off your ear.

“You look amazing,” he said as he plucked at the hem of your short dress, his fingers brushing against the skin on your thigh as he did so. Probably on purpose. Definitely on purpose.

You decided he’d be worth the work raincheck. You’d let him fuck you. And it seemed like that’s just what he wanted when his eyes settled on yours and he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked. You were a-okay with abandoning ship for a hot night with Harry. Work could wait. This man before you, flirting with you and watching your lips as you spoke was ripe for the taking. You didn’t want to miss the chance to try him out in the sack.

Just like he said, the taxi stopped at The Ritz-Carlton on Olympic and he took you up to his room. In the taxi on the way to his hotel, he scooped his arm behind your back and pulled you into his side, brushed your hair from your neck, and put his mouth next to your ear, “You sure you want to do this?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Yeah, that happened. That never happens. Not to you. You were the one making men’s breath hitch. But Harry had some kind of natural charm about him that matched your own energy. A panty-dropper. But it helped that he was so goddamn fine with a deep British accent and dazzling eyes.

The room didn’t appear to have been slept in, but that’s probably due to the strict housekeeping staff taking care to clean up behind their guests.

You kicked your heels off near the door and Harry walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your front. He kissed your neck first. You were admittedly caught off guard by his energy. He was quite forward and confident.

You leaned your head to the side and smiled when you felt him in your back, poking you with what you knew was going to be a big cock. He was already very turned on.

You turned in his arms to face him and slid your hands up to his shoulders and kept your eyes on his, “I don’t usually do things like this…” you spoke innocently.

Harry tilted his head to the side and smirked. The look on his face said he didn’t believe you, “Me neither.” You certainly didn’t believe him.

You lifted yourself upward on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. You had had enough of the back and forth. It was time to get down to it. Harry’s cock was hard and your panties were wet. That’s all that was necessary at that moment. Talk could wait.

Harry gripped your waist and walked you backward to his bed with his mouth attached to yours. You let go of his shoulders and slid yourself back onto the bed as he crawled after you. You grabbed his collar and pulled him down to you, lips locking together in haste.

Putting your leg over his hip you bucked yourself upward to feel his hard-on under his pants and you moaned at the bulk of him.

“Get your pants off, Harry,” you cooed as you palmed over him. Harry sat back and removed his shirt and there was nothing in you that was disappointed by what you saw. More dark tattoos covering his chest and his arms. His body was masculine and sculpted exactly to your preference. Firm with smooth skin and a smattering of hair at his pecs and under his belly button.

You moved your arms behind your back and unzipped your dress and let it fall down your arms. You were wearing a special bra that was sticky on your breasts, which you’d forgotten about until that moment. It was difficult to remove in one quick go because the sticky inside was super sticky so it stayed put. You sat up and turned away from him as he began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants.

Pulling the bra away from your skin slowly you looked over your shoulder and Harry was looking at you with his brows scrunched in confusion. You laughed and when you’d removed the bra lifted it upward so he could see, “It’s a sticky bra and it’s awkward to take off. Didn’t want you to see it coming off. It’s less magical that way.”

Harry spit out a laugh as he visually inspected the bra and he nodded, “Okay. If you say so,” taking the bra from your hand and tossing it on the bed. Harry was only in black briefs when he put his hands up to cup your jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. He pushed you back into the bed with his lips smoothing against yours and he settled himself in between your legs. You were left in only your nude thong. Harry’s briefs-covered cock was pressed right over your pussy. He was thick. You knew he was something special down there. He rocked down over you and licked into your mouth. His solid arms kept his torso held up while his hips were pressed down over you.

You bent your right leg at the knee and spread a bit for him to access you better and he moaned.

“You’re getting me wet even through your underwear. Need something, Y/n?” His cocky smirk was warranted. You hated a cocky man but Harry had every reason to be. He was delectable.

“I need you, Harry. S’why I’m here right now,” you spoke in your sultriest voice and licked at the seam of his lips. Harry brought his mouth down slowly, his warm lips pecking and licking a cherished path down toward your breasts. He palmed and sucked at them. You arched your back and panted. He wasn’t going easy on your nipples as he pulled each into his mouth and swirled his tongue around your areola. His nips caused you to moan loudly into the room.

He moved his head further down and you knew what was coming. But in all honesty, you hadn’t shaved in a while. You were full-on bush down there. You didn’t expect to be getting laid tonight. You were on a job when you saw Harry at the club. You got all dolled up, shaved your legs, and did what needed to be done. But no more than what was necessary.

When he got to your hips you braced yourself for him to see your pussy in its natural state. He put his fingers into the band at your hips and looked up at you as he slid them down slowly. You craned your neck up to see what his expression was when he finally took you in.

He saw your bush. You saw him pause at your pussy but he continued dragging your panties downward. You held your breath when he put himself back between your legs and lowered his face to your inner thigh, planting a hot kiss very close to the curve of where your ass and your cunt met.

“Can I?” He looked up at you, his mouth parted in lust. You weren’t going to say no to head. If he wanted to get down there with your wild garden of desire and wrap his mouth around your clit you’d let him.

“Yes,” you smiled but felt yourself blush a little at the idea of being munched on while you’re pussy-scaping was nonexistent.

But he didn’t seem to care at all. He put his lips over your mound and went to town. Like all the way into town and back home again, then back to the strip so he could have dinner and seconds. He found all the parts that needed to be found under your pubic hair. You settled yourself back into the pillow and relaxed. Harry was a man who liked pussy clearly. He wasn’t deterred by the bush one bit.

Your clit was being given sufficient attention when he began to use his fingers in your crease, softly stroking you up and down until he placed his middle finger right at your hole. He prodded it in a bit and you looked down at him between your thighs. He had his eyes closed, his tongue lapping at you then you watched as his lips found your clit and he pulled at it, sucking you into his mouth and you gasped. He was good. This man was hot and he was good at giving head?

“Fuck, Harry! Right there…” you moaned your words, needing to let him know to keep up with what he was doing. He was going to get you off fast this way.

Harry moaned into your pussy and opened his eyes when he heard you and he nuzzled in further, shaking his head left to right quickly and slurping your clit just as he inserted a second finger. You felt it go in. Harry’s fingers were long and he was getting the job done nicely.

You arched your back at the distinct feeling of heat traveling from your groin outward. You slid one of your hands down and placed your fingers into his thick hair. Something you’d wanted to do since you first saw him earlier in the day. You just had no idea it would be happening while he was expertly eating you out in his hotel room at the Ritz.

You bucked upward toward him and panted, “I’m gonna come, Harry… please….” Your voice was shaky and your orgasm was beginning to blossom. Harry was making a mess of his face with your arousal as he dug in further, one hand holding you down while his other kept his fingers stroking your walls just like you needed.

The snap fuzzed up your hearing for a moment. Your ears rang as you came in his mouth, your body stiffening and jolting with each stroke of his tongue. You were sure you were speaking but your mouth and your brain didn’t meet up as you quivered under the man who was lapping at your pussy like there was no hair in the way.

You opened your eyes when Harry kissed both sides of your hips and sat back. He looked down at you with a grin as your chest was rising and falling quickly, “Holy shit. That was the fastest I’ve ever come from… that.”

Harry chuckled and got off the bed. He walked toward the dresser and you could see his hard cock pressing against the front of his dark briefs. He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of water and brought them to the bed. Pouring a glass for himself and for you. He sat down next to you as you sat up and handed you the glass, which you happily guzzled down. Harry did the same. You hoped he wasn’t washing away the taste of your hairy pussy. That would be embarrassing.

“Sorry. About the lack of trimming. I really didn’t expect to show anyone the goods tonight,” you laughed. It was so ridiculous for you to be apologizing for that. It was natural for most women to have hair on their crotch. Just like it was for men. You weren’t sure why you were apologizing. Maybe it was because Harry was so incredibly attractive.

Harry’s brows pinched together and he frowned, “Really? I mean, I don’t care about the hair, but you weren’t thinking you were gonna laid tonight? Looking like that?”

You shook your head, “No. Truly.”

“Well, you have a beautiful pussy. I doubt anyone would ever kick you out of bed for going au natural. Doesn’t bother me.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to brush the back of your hand over his cock, “What about you? Do your trim?” You smirked.

Harry laughed through his nose and took your glass, placing his and yours on the side table before covering your hand with his and pressing your palm down on his lengthy cock. He brought his other hand up to you, his fingers at your neck and thumb over your cheek when he leaned in to kiss you.

When he backed away from the kiss he looked down to where he had your palm pressed over him, “Why don’t you check.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief but smiled and took the top band of his underwear in your hands and pulled at it, lowering the material and seeing the smattering of hair at his low stomach turn into a darker, thatch before his cock sprung out. The cock was a total distraction. You had forgotten all about the hair when you saw his large organ standing out.

Harry lifted his hips and helped you pull his underwear down. He was certainly nicely built. That was for sure.

You smiled at him and then looked back down at the masterpiece between his legs and leaned in to kiss the tip. Harry moved back, putting his arms behind him to give you space to worship him.

You heard him inhale a sharp breath when your lips came into contact with the tip of his crown and then you looked up at him, “May I?”

Harry nodded quickly and you stuck your tongue out to lick him up and down. You had a lot of area to cover with his penis but you managed to lick him from base to tip all around. He was very hard in your hand. Heavy and thick. You stuck your tongue softly into the slit at his head and looked up at him. He had his eyes closed and his mouth parted.

Just as you wrapped your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue over his frenulum he jolted his hips and gasped, “Wait, god… hold on…” his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you off.

You looked up at him and then sat back, causing his hand to fall away from your neck.

“I’m not going to assume you wanted to have sex, but I kind of wanted to,” he kept his dark eyes on you.

You hated giving blow jobs if you were honest and Harry’s cock was going to cause some damage to your tonsils you could already tell. That monster might not even fit quite well enough for you to really get the job done anyway.

“So, you don’t want a blow job?” You queried, just to be sure.

“I love a good blow job, but…” he looked down and laughed as he shook his head and then set his eyes back on yours with a goofy grin, “this,” he gestured toward his crotch, “tends to take a little training. Not the easiest man to suck off.”

You raised your brows and scoffed, “So, you’re saying that you think your cock is so fat that I’d have trouble taking it down my throat and you’re giving me an easy out and offering to fuck me with that instead of choking me with it?”

Harry barked out a laugh and nodded, “Well, I guess you could put it that way.”

“Thank God, because that thing is quite daunting. Would rather have it in my vagina than my throat, so thank you for that,” you couldn’t believe this man, but he wasn’t wrong. In all honesty, he probably got used to this spiel. It kind of sounded like he’d said it all before.

“So you do want to have sex?” Harry repeated to be sure.

You rolled your eyes and climbed over his thighs, pushing at his chest to bring his back down to the mattress. You straddled his hips and put your unshaven pussy over his cock and then kissed him as your answer. You rolled your hips up and down and Harry grabbed your ass and guided you up and down along his shaft.

There was a lot of girth to rub yourself on with him so your clit was being pressed into on each stroke. Harry moaned into your mouth and pressed you down harder over him as he rocked upward, pressing himself between your slick folds.

“Come on…” he breathed out, “I’ve got a condom,” he said and nudged you up. You stayed in his lap as he leaned over and pulled out a condom from the side table. You found it interesting that he had a condom there being that this was a hotel room. You knew the pattern of men staying in hotels.

Condoms would typically be kept in the luggage or a wallet. Unless the man was expecting company… But you decided to let it go. So what if he was expecting company? Maybe he planned on getting lucky tonight when he went out and thought ahead by putting condoms conveniently in the side table (which is odd for a man to think ahead like that). A woman, now she would think ahead and put condoms in the side table because women think about things like that. Men don’t. Not normally. It’s not a big deal, but it’s also out of character for a man staying in a hotel that he only very recently checked into.

“You okay?” Harry asked you, making you realize you were stuck in your head a bit.

“Oh… yeah. I’m totally good,” you nodded feeling a bit like you were missing something important. Like you were being forewarned of something by the tiny revelation you just had.

You took a breath and tried to push the sudden inexplicable feeling you had down. You wanted him to fuck you. Of course, you did. But what was that feeling you were getting? This sense that something was off? You knew to trust your senses. You had a good read on people and something was not quite right. And you saw him twice in one day? In LA of all places? A strange man from out of town? Yeah… something was off.

You put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and frowned, “I’m… sorry…” you pinched your brows together as you slid off of his lap, “I think I should go.”

Part 2

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lipglossanon · 10 months

Text

Playing Dangerous

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

RE2make Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x criminal fem!reader

For the anon who requested a criminal reader with police officer Leon (dangerous game by Lana del Rey); I hope you enjoy anon! I can’t quite remember all of the ask but I know the song was the inspiration for it! 🤭 it doesn’t follow the song but I hope you still like it! 💜

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, dirty talk, coercion, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink

not proofread

Title from Playing Dangerous by Lana Del Rey

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

Leon heard the call come in over the radio and although it’s the end of his shift, picks up the CB and reports that he’ll take this one and then be out for the night.

He’s driving down the usual stretch of highway before he’s pulling into the derelict part of town, filled with abandoned buildings and run down cars.

It’s usually the hang out spots for crackheads and dope dealers but tonight they seem to be pretty scarce. Pulling up into one of the condemned warehouses, he parks and gets out. Creeping along the wall until he sees the door, he sneaks his way inside, hand resting on his holstered gun.

He sees a shadow dart to the side and the sound of scuffling feet. Following the noise, he turns the corner, staying hidden from view, and sees a body bent over the engine of a car. Running his gaze down your waist over your ass and legs, he actually takes in the license plate of the vehicle you’re working on.

Smirking, he makes his way back outside and calls it in, confirming his suspicions that it’s stolen. He ducks back inside and slowly makes his way back to you. Watching as you toss down a wrench in frustration, you pull away from the engine and kick the front tire.

“Fucking fire trap piece a’shit,” you mutter to yourself wiping your hands off on a towel.

“Well now that’s not very ladylike, honey,” Leon drawls as he makes his way over to you.

You start and drop the towel, whirling to face him with a new wrench in your hand.

“Fuck you, Officer Kennedy,” you sneer at him and it makes him grin.

“You know that’s what I’m here for, baby,” he laughs at your heated glare, “come now, don’t be like that.”

He steps up to push you back against the grill of the car, “It’s always the same song and dance. You and I both know this is stolen property, so how about we take it outside?”

He slips the wrench from you hand and tosses it over to the toolbox on the ground. Grabbing your hand, he marches you out the side door into the shadowed alley.

The next thing you know you’re on your knees in this dirty alley, eagerly—greedily— sucking Officer Kennedy’s thick cock into your willing mouth.

You moan, eyes fluttering at the taste—clean skin and just that underlying hint that’s only him.

“Always ready to drop to your knees for me, honey,” he laughs meanly, pulling his cock out to slap it across your mouth, “come on, choke on it you little slut.”

Your tongue lolls out and he spits in your mouth making you whine, cunt pulsing and filling your panties with slick. He feeds his cock back into your mouth with a low groan. Hips thrusting forward, he sinks another inch into your hot wet throat.

“God, got the wettest fucking mouth,” he grunts, hands going down to hold your head still, “let me fuck your throat, like a good girl.”

You can only moan in reply, tears beading your waterline as his drippy tip kisses the back of your throat. You try your best to not gag, but he pushes too far making your throat clench around him. With a cough, his cock slips from your mouth. Thick strings of spit cling from your swollen lips to his cock, like spiderwebs.

“Get on your feet,” his hands slide down to your arms, yanking you up and shoving you face first into the brick wall.

He pulls your shorts and panties down to pool around your ankles having you step out of them. Then, he kicks your feet apart and cups your pussy with his broad palm.

“Wet little pussy,” he mocks behind you, spanking your soaked mound, “spread yourself.”

With a whine, you move your hands to reach around and grab your pussy lips, spreading your cunt open for Leon’s hungry eyes.

You feel as Leon spits a hot glob of saliva onto your pussy the slaps his cock against your dripping hole.

“Ready?”

When you only nod, he smacks your ass hard.

“I need you to say it, honey.”

“Yes, Officer Kennedy, I’m ready,” you bite out, ending on a squeal as he bullies his cock into your soaked hole.

You let go to move your hands to the wall in front of you, bracing yourself better.

“Aren’t you just a bad girl?” his hot breath tickles the shell of your ear while he ruts his cock slowly in and out of your fluttering walls.

“Mmm so bad, Officer,” you moan, hands scraping against the rough brick of the alley wall.

You push your ass out further, arching your back so he can fuck deeper into your aching pussy.

“Is this teaching you a lesson?” he slaps your ass, “only bad girls get their cunts used like some back alley whore.”

You whine going hot all over and rock yourself back on Leon.

“Promise I won’t do it again, Officer Kennedy,” your voice shakes, clit pulsing in time with your heartbeat, “I’ll be such a good girl.”

“Yeah I bet,” he mocks, “then how come I’m out here once a week, pounding this tight pussy? She just need me that bad, honey?”

You moan as he fucks you in quick shallow thrusts, teasing your sensitive bud with his fingers.

“Officer, please,” you whimper, “I need it, need you to show me how to be a good girl.”

“I’ll show you,” he grits out, hand wrapping around your neck and squeezing, “slutty hole just needs some discipline.”

“Uh huh,” you gasp, drawing in air as he threatens to choke you, “please.”

“Fucking take it then, be a good girl for me and let me fuck this tight, wet cunt.”

You cry out when he pushes his cock in deeper than before, dragging against your g-spot until you’re drooling from the constant barrage of pleasure. His fingers pick up and start pressing quick little circles onto your clit making you whimper and push back into his rough thrusts.

“There we go, squeeze down on me, honey,” he laughs a mean harsh sound pressed into your ear, “gotta work for this creampie, sweet thing.”

You rock your hips back with a low moan. Leon dips his fingers down to gather up the slick dripping from your hole to rub against your swollen clit.

“So fucking slippery,” he grunts, “that feel good? Your pussy sure seems to like it.”

He lets go of your neck so he can grip your hips, pistoning his cock harder and harder into your squelching pussy.

“Officer, ‘m gonna cum, fuck,” you whine, arching your back deeper to push your ass against him, “please, Kennedy, please, wanna cum. Can I, please?”

Leon laughs down at you, slapping your ass hard, “Yeah, want you cumming all over my cock so I can fill this slutty hole full,” he pinches your clit meanly, “hell, might even knock ya up, honey,”

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head as your cunt clenches down on his cock, orgasm washing over your senses making you tense.

“Shit, yeah that’s it, god gonna breed this slutty fucking cunt,” he growls, “gonna fucking knock you up, so everyone knows what a fucking whore ya’are.”

His teeth sink into your shoulder, biting you through your thin t-shirt, making you whine high in your throat as your pussy milks his cock. You feel as rope after rope of hot, sticky cum coats your fluttering walls, filling you so full that it starts dripping out around Leon’s throbbing cock.

“Fuck, honey,” he slurs, pulling away from you, “drained me fucking dry.”

You hiss when he tugs his softening cock away from your pussy, a creamy mix of slick and cum trailing down your thighs.

Leon slaps your ass one final time before tucking himself away. You follow suit and try to make yourself look as presentable as possible. More cum oozes into the gusset of your panties making you fidget as Leon straightens out his shirt and badge.

“Same time next week, hmm?” he grins at you, teeth sharp and eyes sharper.

“Like I have a say,” you mutter with an eye roll.

“That’s the spirit.”

He presses you up against the wall, one hand cupping your throat while his other delves under your shorts and panties to fuck two fingers up into your messy cunt.

Pulling them out, he presses them to your lips, “Open up for me, sweet thing.”

Reluctantly you open your mouth and suck Leon’s fingers, moaning when you taste the mix of you two together.

“Thatta girl,” he coos, “I know you like our little setup as much as I do.”

Eyes fluttering as Leon fucks your mouth with his fingers, you can only hum around the digits.

His walkie crackles with static and he’s pulling away from you.

“Next time wear that dress I like,” he winks and walks out of the alley, back to where he parked.

You lean against the wall and try to catch your breath. Pushing off the brick, you watch as Leon’s cruiser drives past and he gives you a little smart ass wave. Rolling your eyes, you flip him off only to see a flash of teeth as he laughs and then he’s gone. Driving off back to the precinct or god knows where.

With a low groan, you decide to call it quits for tonight. After all, that stolen car will probably be gone tomorrow morning anyways. You walk to the opposite side of the alley to climb into your car and go home. Next week will bring what it may.

#re2!leon x reader #re2make cop!leon s. kennedy x criminal fem!reader #re2make cop!leon s. kennedy #criminal fem!reader #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut #re au #lipglossanonmasterlist #lipglossanon

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vague-humanoid · 2 months

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@chrisdornerfanclub

#csa tw #police abuse cw #he was a cop for 1 day and immediately embrace sex criminal extortion of minors

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lonelyzarquon · 5 months

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Peter Capaldi as DCI Daniel Hegarty CRIMINAL RECORD Coming to Apple TV+ on January 10

#i see 3 seconds of pcap footage and i make a gif #anyways. cop drama with peter as one of the leads!#we're so back #peter capaldi #tvedit #criminal record #pcapaldiedit #tvgifs #mine #my gifs

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minervadashwood · 10 months

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Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 22

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Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Taglist

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Summary: You and Rick face the consequences of spending the night together. Word count: 4K This chapter contains: Shane and kissing. The two are not related.

This was the best dream Rick Grimes had ever experienced. You, the most captivating and sweetest-smelling omega in the world, were lying right next to him, your round softness nestled in his own body. Even mixed with Daryl’s, your scent was intoxicating. He sighed and groaned, tightening his arms around you. You startled awake, but Rick, half-asleep, just soothed you with a low voice.

“Hush now, Bunny.”

“Mmm, it’s too early, Alpha.”

“That’s right, Omega,” Rick mumbled, letting himself get lost in the dream again.

He started dozing, but was awakened suddenly when you slipped out of his arms. Throwing the covers aside, you leaped out of bed, glancing around frantically.

“Daryl’s here!”

Fully awake now, Rick watched dumbly as you snatched up your glasses and ran out of the room. He sat on the bed, willing his body to calm the hell down and trying not to panic. The dream world was gone, but he’d still been holding you in his sleep, acting like your mate and wanting to be just that. His cock was straining in his too-tight briefs. It was like you’d been ripped away from him, taking with you his good sense and his will to live.

How was he going to explain this to his friend? His stomach knotted, as he slipped on his boots. Not knowing if he could even look Daryl in the eye, Rick also felt your loss so keenly, he couldn’t help chasing after you.

He followed your scent trail back to the main room, then down the hallway toward the entrance. There, he stood in the doorway of the fellowship hall, watching Daryl hug and kiss you. Rick dragged his hand through his unruly curls, blatantly staring as you gazed up at Daryl and whispered to him.

At that point, Rick realized just how wrong he’d been about everything.About sharing a room with you, about standing in for your true mate in every way but one. Instead of letting himself fall asleep, he should have stayed awake and gotten the hell out of that bed the moment you’d zonked out for the night.

Honestly, though, his resistance to you had been shattered by then. You, scared and needy, tempted him like nothing else ever had.

He recalled what you hinted at yesterday, about him smelling you despite the fact you wore your scent blockers. Maybe in another time, another place, he’d let himself believe you were his, but you weren’t. Daryl’s mark was emblazoned on your skin, and whatever Rick might want, or even need, didn’t matter.

While Rick stewed in his thoughts, Daryl started walking his way, with you in tow. Rick braced himself for the worst of Daryl’s rage, but all the man did was jut out his hand.

Shocked, Rick shook it.

”Thanks for everythin'.“ Daryl muttered, shuffling his feet and gazing down at the floor. ”Y/N tol' me all ‘bout what happened. Jus' wanna let ya know there's no hard feelin's.“

Rick's gaze flitted between the two of you. You told Daryl everything? And he was okay with it? How? Rick would have been feral if someone else touched his mate.

“Daryl, I'm sorry,” Rick began. “I should've let them stay alone—”

Daryl shook his head, still not meeting Rick's eyes. “They needed ya, and ya did what I couldn't.” He shrugged. “'s alrigh'.”

Rick saw you looking at Daryl, your brow furrowed with concern.

“You don’t have to be okay with it,” Rick said, taking a step toward his friend. “I know I messed up.”

“Horse shit!” Daryl snapped. “I fucked up an’--” he trembled and took a deep breath, “An’ while I was out there, you were here takin’ care of what I couldn’t.”

“Daryl,” you soothed, rubbing his arm. “Let’s go find somewhere private and talk. All three of us.”

Suddenly, a small, pajama-clad body was sprinting down the hallway, screeching, “Daddy!”

All three of you turned your heads toward Carl running down the hall, with Ivan flopping around in his right hand. The pup threw himself at Rick.

“Daddy, don’t leave!” he cried.

Every time Carl did this, it broke Rick’s heart to pieces, but at least this time, he was able to stop his son’s tears. He squatted and pulled him into a proper hug.

“Not going anywhere, Carl. Bunny’s mate just got here, and we came to meet him.”

“Can I meet him, too?”

“Carl!” Lori shouted, and Rick looked up to see Lori coming down the hallway, Shane only a step behind her.

“Bunny!” Carl exclaimed, twisting away from Rick and heading for you.

Shane growled, putting Rick on high alert. Daryl must have sensed it too, because he was right next to Rick in an instant, blocking you from Shane’s view.

Just as you were about to greet Carl, Daryl gently pushed you behind him and stood next to Rick, both men doing a pretty good impression of an impenetrable wall. Instinctively, you took Rick’s pup by the hand and held him close to you. Whatever danger your alpha sensed, you were determined to keep it from getting to Carl.

“Lori, he’s fine,” Rick said.

“He’s my son, Rick!”

“Mine, too, Lori! And if I say he’s fine, then he’s fine.”

Daryl snarled, and you couldn’t ignore the musk of an unfamiliar alpha filling the room. It sickened you with its presence as it tried to dominate the large space.

In front of you, Daryl squared his shoulders. “Take ‘nother step, an’ you’ll regret it,” he warned.

“You really going to assault a police officer, buddy? You must be dumber than you look.”

You put your arm around Carl, not daring to move from where Daryl had put you.

“Cut it out, Shane,” Rick calmly said.

Carl tugged on your hand. “Can we go back to the other place? I don’t like it when Shane yells.”

Was Shane in the habit of yelling around Carl? You hated the man already. Not only did he destroy Rick’s family, but he was upsetting Carl.

Your instincts told you to run and hide with Carl, but he wasn't your pup, no matter how fond you were of him. You squatted down next to him.

“I think it’s best if you went back to your Mom. Your Daddy isn’t leaving anytime soon. Promise.”

“What about you?” he asked, holding Ivan to his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, either.”

He nodded, then glumly walked away from you, back to his mother.

You peered around Rick to see Lori scoop up the boy in her arms.

“What did I tell you about running off like that, Carl?” Lori said, hugging him close.

Was it really running off if the kid just wanted to see his dad?

“That your new playmate?” Shane said, and you glanced up to find the dark-haired alpha glaring down at you.

Rick took you by the elbow and gently urged you behind him again, trying to block you from Shane’s view.

“They’re mine,” Daryl growled, his barely contained rage so unlike Rick’s calm alertness.

Shane scoffed. “Somethin’ ain’t right about this guy, Rick. Looks like he walked in here off the trailer road. Carl shouldn’t be anywhere near him.”

Rick growled. “Carl’s my son, not yours. Just ‘cause you and Lori got something going on doesn’t change that. And it never will.”

Both of the alphas in front of you widened their stances, as if a fight might break out at any moment. But surely this wasn’t something worth fighting over. You stared at them, struck by how in sync they were, how they both tried to hide you from Shane, all without a word between them.

Something urged you to touch them both. Nothing in you wanted them to back down, but it felt like they needed you, especially Daryl. Though he might not admit it, Shane’s words could cut to the quick, bringing up memories that didn’t need to resurface.

If Rick was right about your soothing pheromones, you hoped Daryl felt them now. Maybe not enough to make him back away, but enough to make him brave and confident, like the person he was at home.

You detested Shane for judging your mate, for making Daryl doubt himself. You opened your bond to Daryl, keeping close your carefully guarded secret, but sharing the trust you had in him, the love.

Beneath your palms, Daryl relaxed somewhat, and so did Rick.

Rick cocked his head, turning toward Daryl. “You can punch him if you want. Right in the nose. He’s broken it enough, so you can’t do much more damage.”

Daryl huffed.

Rick went on, “Guy comes in here, stares down your mate, and insults you at the same time.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Shane announced.

What an idiot this man was. You dared to look at Shane again, this time peeking around Daryl’s side. “Can’t you see it’s two against one? Even if you’re a cop, so is Rick. If you’re truly asking for it, and my Alpha hits you? It’s our word against yours, dumbass.”

“Bubbie,” Daryl warned, his voice low.

Rick chuckled.

“Well, you heard ‘em Shane,” Rick said. “Besides, you already got what you want: the girl, my house, the treehouse I spent a year building.”

You looked on as Shane’s temper instantly deflated, his shoulders drooping with a long sigh. “Look, man, I’m sorry…it just…happened.”

Rick made a fist at his side, and for a moment you thought Rick would be the one to punch Shane instead. But Rick gradually loosened his fist, stretching out his fingers and sighing. “You made your choice Shane, and now I have to live with it.

Shane’s face fell, almost making you feel sorry for him. He turned and walked back down the hallway, a resigned man in place of the aggressive alpha he’d been minutes before.

Daryl scoffed. “Ya got weird taste in friends. That guy’s a goddamn asshole.”

Rick nodded. “One of the many reasons we’re not friends anymore.”

Absently, you rubbed soothing circles on each of their backs, and both men slowly turned around, staring down at you.

The hand that had been touching Rick fell to your side, and you made a fist of your own, missing the solid warmth of his back beneath your palm. Daryl wrapped his arm around you.

Rick grinned, “Hope we didn’t get you too spooked, Bunny.”

“Bunny?” Daryl mumbled, his eyebrow quirked.

Rick shrugged, his gaze still on you “Like you said, ‘bunny in a bear trap.’ That’s how they were yesterday morning, down on all fours in the rain, looking for their glasses.”

“I did not look like that until the thunder started,” you defended. “This is my first hurricane. I’ll do better next time.”

“Won’t be alone next time, neither,” Daryl told you.

You nodded, still sensing some of Daryl’s unease. You took his hand. “I wasn’t alone this time. And we need to talk about that, all three of us.”

“I don’t--”Rick said.

“Please, Rick. I have to tell you something. But first, Daryl needs to clean up and eat. Can you get us a couple of meals and bring them back to the room?”

Rick’s eyes flitted from you to Daryl.

Your mate peered down at you. “Wha’s goin’ on, ‘Mega? Ya hurt? Scared?”

“No…well, I am scared, but not in the way you’re thinking. Can we just get some breakfast and talk? The three of us?”

Daryl had dressed in a set of Rick’s clothes, sans underwear and socks. Something about wearing another man’s skivvies just didn’t seem right. His belly was full, his mind was restless, as he leaned on the wall of the tiny room apportioned to you and Rick.

You, small and meek, perched on the corner of the bed, twisting your fingers in your lap, looking like--well, a skittish rabbit. The nickname fit you, he had to admit.

Rick didn’t appear much calmer; he sat on the little couch, his knee bouncing wildly as he stared out the small, ceiling level window. It let in a sliver of gray light, and showed the storm as it raged outside.

You took a deep breath and stared at your lap, and through the bond Daryl noticed your worry and fear. He took one step toward you, but you held up your hand, palm facing him.

“Just give me a second,” you said, meeting his eyes.

He nodded and resumed his post, though he ached to provide comfort and ease away the trouble that plagued you.

You rubbed your hand on your forehead. “I don’t really know where to start. With what Ro said, or the first time I suspected, or start with what happened just now.”

“Jus’ take yer time, Bubbie,” Daryl told you, his belly in knots. “We ain't goin’ anywhere.”

“Nowhere to go,” Rick said. “Just start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out, especially if you think it’s important.”

You nodded to Rick, and when you looked at Daryl, unshed tears formed in your eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you sniffed. “I love you, but I have to tell you, and you may not like what I have to say.”

Daryl sprang off the wall, ignoring your earlier request. In a flash, he was next to you on the bed pulling you against him. “Whatever it is, ‘s alrigh’, ya hear? I feel it tearin’ ya up inside, an’ I can’t stand it.” He framed your face with his hands. “G’on, Bubbie.”

Your lower lip trembled , and you glanced at Rick. The deputy was sitting forward on the couch, forearms resting on his knees, his eyes locked on you.

You blinked and tears streamed down your cheeks. “I think that Rick is my mate.”

Daryl froze in place, shock and fear coursing through him.

But you went on. “I think you both are.”

“Both?” Daryl managed to say.

You nodded. “I’m sorry. Alpha.”

Daryl looked over to Rick, and his normally unflappable friend stared at you like a deer in headlights facing his tragic fate head-on, unable to stop it.

“I tried not to. I tried so hard. I don’t even know if you feel it, Rick, but I think you do. And out there, with Shane and everything, you both protecting me, and somehow I knew--I know--that I need you both.”

Rick shook his head. “We just wanted Shane to keep his distance.”

“No,” Daryl said, his voice low and gravelly. He clutched at you. “That ain’t it, is it ‘Mega?”

You shook your head and sighed, taking his hand and holding it. Whatever barrier you’d put up in your bond was gone now, and Daryl absorbed all the fear and longing you sent him.

He felt your love for him, but he also realized how much you ached, too, for Rick. And the force of all that spurred him to fix this. To give you everything you needed, wanted, no matter what. You were his, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be Rick’s too.

He studied Rick again, and it seemed as if Rick couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“You don’t need to--” Rick started.

“They do,” Daryl interrupted. “I can feel ‘em wantin’ ya, Rick, jus’ like they want me.” He let go of your hand and stroked your cheek. “That’s how it is, ain’t it? First time ya met ‘im it was like you an’ me all those months ago.”

“Yes,” you whimpered, leaning into his touch.

“An’ ya been keepin’ it bottled up to protec’ me?”

You nodded.

He glared at Rick. “Ya wan’ ‘em like that, too doncha? Like anytime ya ain’t near ‘em ‘s like part of ya’s missin’. An’ when ya touch ‘em ‘s like ya come alive.”

Rick shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what I want. I’m not coming between you. Not going to ruin what y’all have.”

“Nothin’s gettin’ ruined. Don’ ya wanna make ‘em happy? Stop ‘em from frettin’ and hurtin’ an’ worryin’?”

“Daryl,” you whispered, sniffing again. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“Oh, Bubbie,” he murmured, kissing your temple. He nibbled your ear then whispered, voice low and soft. “I wanna see ya kiss ‘im like ya mean it. Let me see ya take what you wan’. What ya need.”

He raised his head and looked at Rick. “What do ya say? Ya gonna come take care of ‘em? Make ‘em stop hurtin’?”

Rick’s chest rose and fell, once, twice. Then he reached out a trembling hand to you. “Is this what you want, Bunny?”

You nodded, and Daryl gently pushed you toward Rick. The other man reminded Daryl of a wild bobcat ready to pounce and devour its prey, yet Rick moved as if in slow motion, using only a small tug on your hand to urge you down on the couch with him.

Rick was doing all he could to be calm. You were next to him again, and his disbelief gave way to hope. All those times he imagined sharing you with Daryl. All those nights he spent alone, mind wild with images of him knotting you, of you having his pups.

Could that all really come true? Was any of this possible?

From the corner of his eye, he saw Daryl sink down on the bed, lean back on one hand, and use the other hand to press against his crotch.

Maybe Daryl really was okay with this.

Rick turned to you once more, and he saw your pretty eyes blinking up at him, red-rimmed and uncertain. His hand wouldn’t stop shaking as it held yours, but he kept holding tightly to you anyway.

On your knees next to him, you said, “Do you really want this? You’ve never said anything. Maybe you don’t feel what I do, maybe you want an omega you don’t have to share, or one who’s a woman, or one who’s thinner.”

Sweet Jesus, help him. How could he want anything but you?

“Oh, Bunny,” he breathed. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you. First time I smelled you I never wanted to smell anything else.”

He used his index finger and tilted your head up. “You’re perfect. Now c’mere.”

He pulled you toward him until you fell forward and landed against him.

You pressed your hands to his chest to hold yourself up, but Rick hooked an arm around your waist and urged you closer. Your soft, heavy weight settled against him. How he loved the feel of you, every soft curve of you, the extra weight you had all over, the way you molded around him just right. With one arm still around your waist, he held your jaw with his other hand, cupping your cheek. Your skin was hot beneath his palm, your eyes shuttering as you tried to keep looking into his eyes.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, your nose. The hand on your cheek found its way to cradle the back of your head, and Rick held you in place as he continued to pepper you with light, fleeting kisses, all the while avoiding your mouth.

His body practically screamed at him to take you, to give in to all the desires and fantasies he’d pent up since meeting you. But Rick measured each moment carefully. You had all the time in the world now, you and him. All that would come later, after he had proven himself to you, courted your properly as a mate should.

The room filled with the musk and perfume of all three of you. He spared a glance at Daryl, who was still leaning back on the bed palming himself over his jeans. He bit his lip and breathed heavily, staring at you cradled in Rick’s arms.

Rick never thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but he wanted to prove himself to Daryl too, show his friend that he could make you happy, satisfy you as you deserved.

“Alpha,” you whimpered. “Rick, please.”

Rick traced the shell of your ear with his tongue then spoke against your skin. “Look what you’re doing to him. To both of us.”

Your eyes flitted to Daryl then back to him, and you smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you said. “That both of you want me.”

“Who wouldn’t want you, Bunny? So sweet and cute.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t want to be sweet and cute, I want to be sexy. I want to be yours.”

“You will, Omega,” Rick soothed. “Just not today.”

“Why?”

“Because this is still new. And I want to do this right. Take my time with you.”

“Won’t you at least kiss me, Alpha?”

“I think I can kiss you. But that’s all.”

“Okay,” you nodded, licking your lips.

“Close your eyes.”

You obeyed, fluttering your eyes closed. Rick tightened his arm around you and finally pressed his lips to yours. Your hands grabbed at his shirt, trying to yank him into yourself. He kept his kisses slow, languid, gentle. You tried to breach the seam of his lips with your tongue, but he wouldn’t let you.

You let out a frustrated moan and became a squirrely thing in his arms, protesting his chaste kissing.

He never imagined you’d be this needy. Leaning back he held you away from him, but you tried to chase after his lips. A passive omega you were not, Rick realized, instead you were a desperate little thing, intent on taking all you wanted from him.

What fun it would be to tease you, to have you sprawled out beneath him begging, crying for his knot. He’d keep denying you, just to see how much you wanted it, wanted him.

But that was for another day. After you trusted him in a way that went beyond biology and hormones, in the way that two people could trust each other, regardless of designation.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Daryl standing up, shirt unbuttoned, belt undone.

“Here, ‘mega,” he said, reaching for you. He scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, where he sat you on his lap.

“I think it’s ‘bout time ya give Rick a break.”

You looked back and forth between them. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Omega,” Rick encouraged. “You’re doing everything just right.”

Daryl nuzzled his mark on your neck. “He wants to take his time with ya, tha’s all. He’s a decent guy, ya know. Not some redneck who picked you up at a motel.”

“But Daryl, I love the way we met.” You let out a stuttered moan as he kissed his mark.

“Ain’t ya heard of courtin’, Bubbie?” he scolded you.

“Of course I have, but nobody does that anymore.”

“Mmm, I think Rick does.”

How Daryl knew his intention surprised Rick, but there was a lot that Daryl picked up on that most people wouldn’t.

Daryl kissed his way along your neck, and you looked up at Rick.

“But I don’t have a family you need to prove anything to.”

Rick squatted and kissed your forehead. “You have a pack, don’t you?” He caught your lips in another kiss, crowding into your space as Daryl held you still on his lap and laved your mark.

“I’m staying right here, Bunny, gonna watch Daryl give you his knot, help him take care of you after. You and me will figure out the rest later, okay?”

You nodded, breathlessly, losing yourself to Daryl’s ministrations. Rick sat himself on the bed, leaning his back against the wall. He’d let Daryl have his turn.

For now.

Next chapter.

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