Made For Each Other - Merle Dixon / Reader
Cross posted on ao3
Chapter 2 here Summary: The day Merle had first laid eyes on you he knew you were the kinda girl he liked. Filthy and damn right nasty, he bet you'd like to get down and dirty as he fantasized of all the sordid things he wanted to do to you. Only problem being the fact you were already taken by a deadbeat loser who didn't take too kindly to Merle Dixon. CW: 18+, drug abuse, alcoholism, both reader and Merle are addicts, smut, rough sex, scent and sweat kink, a whole lot of oral fixation, degradation, choking, this shit is straight up nasty, cheating, morally questionable reader, Merle is a warning himself
Merle’s head was pounding like someone had taken a goddamn sledgehammer to it. He pressed on the gas, burning rubber as he tore down dirt roads. He was on a real heavy comedown, all twitchy and agitated ever since he’d woke up that morning and realised his stash was empty. He needed to find a fix fast - meth crash ain’t no joke. But there was just one problem; he was dirt broke. Not a damn cent to his name.
He’d nearly torn the house apart looking for any form of cash but all that had earned him was an elbow to the face from a very groggy, very pissed off Daryl when he’d crashed into his room and woken him up.
That’s how Merle found himself speeding toward the only son of a bitch he knew he’d be able to score some free ice from, getting right back to some good old hot rolling.
The fucker in question was some chump named Lucas. He was in Daryl’s grade in highschool and had hung around his lil brother like a bad smell even after he’d dropped out. He was an awkward lanky kid, all limbs and no game, wanting to become a cop before he fried his brain with pretty much any drug he could find. Merle had actually been the one to get him hooked on the good stuff when Lucas had come round to shoot tincans with Daryl. He always found it hilarious when he got one of Daryl’s friends high, half the time they’d either piss or shit their pants the first time they did it. Lucas was no exception, except he was a puker not a pisser which had made Merle howl with laughter.
Unfortunately, for Lucas, the kid lacked any kind of impulse control and soon he was on a downward spiral of narcotics, dropping off the face of the earth for a couple years until Merle had bumped into him at the liquor store. He was basically skin and bone at that point, but more stable than the last time he’d seen him. He was fulltime dealing though, only way to fund his fix, something that Merle immediately took advantage of.
The drugs that Lucas sold sucked, but in desperate times it would do. What it lacked in quality it gained in the fact that Merle had never paid the kid a damn dime, just making up excuses that he’d pay next time - that he was about to come into a real large sum of cash, you’ll see, you’ll get your money. Lucas would try and act all tough, spouting shit that this was the last time or he’d set his goons on him. Yeah, right. There were very few people who would stand up to Merle Dixon, and that scrawny tweaker was not it.
But free meth was free meth no matter how shitty and that was the reason he even gave a loser like Lucas a second thought. Well, that and one other reason. His trailer-park trash girlfriend certainly made Merle’s visits a lot more interesting.
The day Merle had first laid eyes on you he knew you were the kinda girl he liked. He’d been at the Salty Hound, one of the only bars that hadn’t outright barred him, slamming back bottles of cheap beer. He’d been coming back from taking a leak when he’d noticed you by the bar.
He could only see the back of you but, man, even that was a sight for sore eyes. You’d been leant against the bar, strappy high heeled feet far enough away that your back arched as you rested your elbows on the counter. Low rise jeans revealed a faded trampstamp of hearts and butterflies spread across your lower back, real girly shit, your long box dyed hair hanging down your back like a rope Merle itched to tug on.
He’d already been biting his lip as he made his way towards you, anticipating the interaction. Oh, this was gonna be way too easy. He just hoped you were as much white-trash in the front as you were in the back.
“Hey, sugar.” he leaned next to you, leering forward, not even attempting to be subtle. He always liked to lay it on thick “How’s ya night goin’?”
You turned to him and Merle internally thanked whatever higher power had been listening to his prayers. He’d hit the fucking jackpot. Smoky eyes looked back at him as you eyed him curiously, lips wrapped tight around a lollipop - a fucking lollipop - plump red sucking on adhetive neon green. You crossed your arms across your chest which only pushed up the already ample cleavage underneath your strappy crop top. Merle had to stifle a groan as he dropped his gaze and openly stared, completely unashamed.
“ ‘s alright” you drawled, flicking a strand of hair out your eye. Merle grinned, god you were perfect. Voice like a fucking banjo and full of attitude. Wouldn’t take him much to tame the brat out of you though, could tell you were the kind of bitch who took it rough. He’d have you on all fours whimpering and taking what he gives you in no time.
“Don’ think I’ve seen ya round here before, darlin’,” Merle moved his left arm to lean on the bartop next to you, hand dangerously close to touching your hip. You didn’t move away. “Ya new in town or just visitin’?”
You dipped the lollipop you’d been licking into the foamy head of your beer, sucking it back into your mouth as you slurped off the creamy liquid. Merle licked his bottom lip at that. Nasty girl.
“I grew up round here,” you spoke around the candy, mouth sticky and wet “moved to Atlanta for college, tried to stay. Didn’t work out.” you shrugged, unbothered.
Ah. You were one of those chicks who tried to escape their own blood and reinvent yourself. Trying so desperately to lose your accent, shed the past and hope no one realised you were nothing but a goddamn hick. Never lasted long though, as you can’t hide what you are. Eventually home would always come calling as you spent your time fucking any man who’d have you as a distraction. Stop fighting it and just let yourself fester like the rest of them.
“Ya don’ say,” Merle dropped his voice to a sultry husk “don’ suppose you heard anythin’ about me?”
You smiled knowingly to yourself as you dropped your lollipop onto the bar counter, opting to straight up chug the remnants of your beer. Merle watched as foamy golden liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and trickled down your chin, all the way to your neck. He bit his tongue, desperate to lick up the hollow of your throat, gulping down the taste of beer and sweat.
“Yeah. I know who you are, Merle.” Straight and to the point, you weren’t entertaining his flirting. "Don't think there’s anyone round here that don’t know what a Dixon is.”
If you thought he’d be offended you were dead wrong. Merle let out a barking laugh, amused by your attitude and how sweet his name sounded coming from your lips. You weren’t no shy wilting thing, you had something tough about you, something raw. You could handle yourself which meant you could probably handle him.
“What do ya know about me, baby,” he cooed “all good things I hope?”
“I know that me talkin’ to you probably ain’t the best idea” you slung a hand onto your hip, eyeing him up and down as he held a hand up to his chest in mock hurt. “Daryl was in some of my classes, boy didn’t talk much - ‘specially to the girls. But hell he had enough to say about his big older brother.”
Merle would’ve been more annoyed at the little shit running his mouth about him if he wasn’t thoroughly enjoying himself. He liked that you weren’t immediately running for the hills at his obvious flirting- liked that you were happy to give it back. Not intimidated by him at all. He bet you liked it real hard, probably took it up the ass if you were drunk enough.
“Darleena loves to tell tall-tales, can’t trust a thing that boy says.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Promise I ain’t so bad” he took a step towards you, closing the distance.
You didn’t flinch, hardly even reacted as he brought his hand up to your face to twirl a strand of hair through his thumb and index finger, your eyes never leaving his.
You only reacted with a slight hitch to your breath as he ran his fingers down through your hair, resting just above the neckline of your lowcut crop, hand resting on your breast. He leaned in, lips ghosting your ear.
“I’ll only bite if you ask me to” he whispered huskily and inhaled. You smelled like smokes, beer and cheap cherry scented perfume. Entirely tacky, entirely you - it was intoxicating.
He leaned back, eyes finding yours as you looked at him with that same deadpan no nonsense expression, but he could see something playful swimming in the backs of those dark eyes. Something thinking, considering.
“How ‘bout I get us both a drink, sweetheart, would ya like that?” he still fidgeted with the lock of your hair, all charm and smiles.
“Merle, I-”
“Hey.”
You were cut off by a nasally voice beside you. Merle’s head shot in its direction, hand letting go of you while he watched with a deep scowl on his face as Lucas approached.
He had to hold himself back from suckerpunching the fucker straight in the face as he wormed his way next to your side, arm sliding round your shoulders and pulling you against him.
“What’s going on?” Lucas’ disapproving frown was directed solely at Merle as the two men glared at each other with a passionate hatred.
“Was just talkin’ to the infamous Merle Dixon.” Your tone was aloof as you picked at one of your chipped pink polished nails “Just like Daryl said he was.” You added under your breath.
Merle was seething. What the hell was a fucking deadbeat like Lucas doing coming up and acting all confident and possessive over you. Having a sweet thing like you by his side clearly gave Lucas the balls he needed as he goaded Merle further.
“Say, Merle,” he droned, all cocky. Fucker. “you got that money you owe me?”
Merle’s cheeks grew red hot in embarrassment. He didn’t want you thinking a loser like Lucas actually held any power over him, that he had the upper hand. His temper got the better of him, fuse way too short for anyone’s own good.
“That shit ain’t even worth paying for,” he snarled “piss ass dope if ya ask me.”
Lucas just laughed, bitter and full of irony
“Oh so you’re gonna be all over my girl and then trash my stock. Classy, Merle, real nice.”
“YOUR girl?!” Merle was incredulous, eyes darting to where you were still clung to Lucas’ hip. You smiled up at him, smug, finding the entire interaction hilarious. “Yeah, Merle, let me introduce you to my girlfriend.”
Merle grimaced at the memory. He had stomped home shortly after that and drowned his anger in a bottle of Jack, dick in hand as he stroked himself to the memory of you, imagining that bright green lollipop was the head of his cock.
He would never understand why you were with such a pathetic dickweasel like Lucas. You screamed that you needed a man who’d dick you down so good and hard you could barely walk - something Lucas did not seem up to the task for.
Ever since that night Merle was obsessed with you. He’d watch you whenever he saw you at the bar, long and lingering as you slammed back shot after shot, hips swaying as you danced to the shitty stereo music, movements becoming more sloppy, more loose, more sexy.
Whenever he’d show up at Lucas’ shitty one-bed bungalow he’d look out for you, blatantly ogling you when you’d stroll past in just a loose shirt and panties, lace sticking out from under the hem of the shirt. He’d openly flirt with you, not giving a shit at the glares and passive aggressive comments thrown his way from a pale and sweaty lucas - someone had clearly been sampling their stock - and he’d revel in the way you’d indulge in his banter, witty quips shutting down whatever compliments he’d spew at you.
It’s like you were made for each other.
You weren’t like most the chicks Merle would bring home, all blushing and nervous, desperate to please. You didn’t give a fuck what people thought of you. You were downright filthy, pure sleazy trash tied up in a cute lil pink bow, cut from a similar cloth to the Dixon family.
Merle was pulling into Lucas’ gravel driveway, honking his horn. No one came out from the shitty bungalow so he sighed, jaw clenched in tension, desperate for a fix as he hauled himself out his pickup.
He rapped his knuckles on the rickety door twice and waited. Nothing. He knocked again, harder this time. A couple minutes passed and Merle was preparing to kick the door down, when he was greeted with the sound of a deadbolt sliding open, door creaking wide and- Well, speak of the devil.
Your inconvenienced curiosity instantly settled into a deadpan look of disdain when you saw who’d disturbed your peace. You leaned against the doorframe, beer bottle in hand as you eyed Merle like he was some kind of cockroach.
You looked like a vision plucked straight from his dreams; hair hung in messy knots around your shoulders, skin sweaty from the summer Georgian heat meant you were wearing next to nothing - a pair of denim shorts that may as well have been classed as panties and a red lace bra on top, sheer enough that he could see the glint of your nipple piercings underneath.
Merle had to bite his lip,eyes darting up to meet yours as he took in your disapproving look at his blatant staring and fuck, your face. Crusty mascara from last night’s antics clung to your lashes, cheeks flushed from a hangover and your lips stained red - but not from thick greasy lipstick this time, from something you’d eaten, some kind of fruit maybe.
“He ain’t in, Merle” you said his name like a slur “and I really ain’t in the mood for your shit today, so you’d best be on your way, yeah?”
Merle bit back a chuckle, “Well, hello to ya too, darlin.” he leaned in close, dropping his voice low “So, when’s ya handsome knight in shinin’ armour comin’ back?”
You rolled your eyes, “No clue. He left a couple hours ago to do some deals, didn’t say when he’d be coming back. ‘sides… don’t think he’d be too happy to see you.”
Merle briefly recalled the last time he’d seen Lucas. How he’d gone to his, desperate for a fix and ended up shooting his rifle in the front living room, smashing a window and nearly taking Lucas out with it. Fair. Couldn’t really blame the guy, but he needed something quick and he was gonna get that whether Lucas was here or not.
“C’mon baby, let me wait around a little while.” he leaned even closer to you, could smell the sickly sweet scent of whatever you’d eaten on your breath “Got something real important to talk about with ya handsome man, promise I’ll be outta ya way.”
Your expression screamed I’m calling bullshit but he knew you’d give in, ain’t no point trying to wrestle a dixon off your premises. It was more effort arguing with him than it was just letting him wait around for Lucas’ pathetic ass to show up.
“Alright…” you turned away from him to saunter back inside “jus’ ” you glanced over your shoulder “keep quiet. Please.” Merle was already grinning as he walked in after you. “Yes, ma’am.”
He followed you into the living room, taking in the space. In all the fucked up ways he’d seen the place, it was on the cleaner side today. Filthy for most folks but adequate for a bitch who’d fucked her way into addiction.
You placed your half empty beer bottle on the round cocktail table by the couch. His eyes followed the movement and he couldn’t help but smirk at the contents of the table; a pack of malboros, multiple empty bottles of beer, your fucking pipe and next to all that filth was a dainty little dish of strawberries. You’d never not be hilarious to him. Sordid debauched items next to something so sweet, so pure so fucking feminine. You certainly tried to at least be a pretty sweet girly-girl.
“You need anythin’?” hands on your hips, you glared at him and brought his attention back to you. Sure, you might hate his guts but he appreciated your half assed attempt at playing as a hospitable host.
“Actually, yeah, if ya could help me out my head is killin’ me. Got any tylenol or somethin'? I’d be real grateful.” You thought for a minute, eyes looking up and head cocking to the side in that cute way it did when you actually used your brain. Merle wanted to sink his sharp teeth into your throat whenever you did it.
“Yeah… think we do.” you turned and headed towards the tiny kitchenette, unaware that Merle was following close behind. He watched the unintentional sway of your hips, long toned legs gliding past one another with ease. Fuck. You drove him crazy.
You entered the kitchen and bent down low, torso leaning forward as you stuck your ass in the air, rooting through the cupboard under the sink where the first aid box was kept. Your rear-end perched up like that in those sinfully small shorts was too much for Merle and he took the plunge, thinking “to hell with it” as he moved toward you.
He was behind you in an instant, crotch pressed flushed against your rear as he cupped both asscheeks and squeezed.
“Bad idea to be dressing like this round ol’ Merle, doncha think?” he drawled out, husky and dripping with lust.
You straighten up in an instant, swiftly turning to face him as your right hand lashed out to strike him across the face, effectively backhanding him. He wasn’t even mad, huffing out a laugh at your reaction.
“Well, shit, sugar. Keep doing that and I’ll be harder than a pig skull.” he snickered.
“Fuck you,” you spat, lip curling in disgust “touch me again and I’ll cut you, jackass.” You barged past him, heading back the way you’d come, clearly done with his shit.
Merle merely chuckled, he didn’t doubt that you knew your way around a buck knife but when it came down to it you were just about as intimidating as a bunny rabbit. He followed close behind you, lazy and confident in his walk as you stomped back to the couch. His hand sliding over your waist stopped you dead in your tracks, slapping him away in mere seconds as you swiftly turned round to face him.
“You kiddin’?” You barked “The hell did I jus’ say?” You were scowling as you tried to square up to him, chest puffed out ready for a fight which only heightened Merle’s amusement.
“Aw, c'mon, sugartits, don’ go actin’ all mean on me. Don’t suit ya much” he pinched your cheek, quick to retract his hand before you could bite him. “Why don’t me and you have some fun together, yeah? I’ll show ya a real good time.” His eyes were lowered to your chest, wicked grin widening as he ran his tongue over his top teeth, moaning obscenely.
You were chest to chest as you forced his attention back to your face, looking him dead in the eye, you leaned forward.
“I think you’re disgustin’.” You sneered, lips pulled back in a doglike snarl. You were even closer to him now, nose skimming the side of his neck as you took a deep inhale and it took all of Merle’s willpower not to grab you by the back of your head and shove you against his sweat slicked skin.
“You reek.” You murmured and pulled back all too quick, eyes raking over his body and landing on his crotch “I ain’t lettin’ that thing anywhere near me.”
You turned away and marched to the couch, throwing yourself down on the worn leather with an exasperated sigh, feet propped up on the table. Merle exhaled long and slow, missing the warmth of your body so close to his, the sickly scent of strawberries lingering in the air. You glowered at him from your perch, tongue clicking in disapproval as you snatched up the half empty glass bottle in front of you.
“Now, sit your ass on the floor” you were pointing to the grotty stained carpet under his feet like he was a bad dog “and shut the fuck up.”
Merle smirked, never in his life had a woman talked to him like that and it was damn right exhilarating. You really didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought about you, saying whatever the hell came to your mind. Merle needed to see how a woman that brazenly crass took a cock. Screw the meth, he wanted to have a taste of something different today and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna give up anytime soon.
So, he did as he was told, dropping down to his knees in an effort to placate you. He knew he’d get you under his thumb soon enough so may as well be a good boy now.
Your attention was off him, back to sipping on your cheap beer as you picked at the bowl of strawberries in front of you. Merle’s eyes roamed the length of your body, from your perky tits down to your toned slender ankles, crossed over each other and resting on the old wooden table. His eyes lingered on the monitor wrapped around your right ankle.
You’d got it after you’d crashed Lucas’ motorbike into the side of a pickup truck trying to drive home eight highballs deep, landing your ass straight in jail overnight. The gadget was meant to monitor your sobriety, court mandated and all, but Merle guessed either the damn thing was useless or your parole officer thought you were a lost cause cuz you were eagerly suckling on a beer bottle with no repercussions. You were just all sorts of fucked up delicious, weren’t you.
You plucked a strawberry from the bowl and wrapped your lips around it, bright red rivelets of juice dribbled down your chin as you bit down, humming contently from the taste. You were licking and slurping on it like a goddamn porn star, eyes fluttering shut as you swallowed down scarlet pulp with a loud gulp.
Merle’s cock twitched at the sight. You knew what you were doing. Fine. Two could play at that game.
He reached for the waistband of his jeans, unbuckling his belt just enough that he could dip underneath the denim, hand wrapping around the base of his half-hard cock.
“Ya a real sweet thing, ain’t ya, sugar?”
Your eyes opened at his words as you looked over toward him and froze. Whatever snarky remark you’d had in mind died on your lips as you followed the movement of his hand lazily jacking his cock under his jeans.
You swallowed hard, breath faltering before you stuttered out: “What the hell d’you think you’re doing?” Your tone was still lazy and confident but Merle could see the tell-tale blush painting the tips of your ears pink.
“Jus’ enjoying the show.” He kept his voice idle but his eyes were burning hot with pure want, staring you down, challenging you “Ya look real pretty like that, darlin’...”
“ ‘m jus’ eatin’....” you muttered, eyes downcast and Merle could have cackled at your sudden shyness, all nervous and blushing as if you hadn’t taken more dick than you could count.
“Mmhmm and don’ stop, sweetheart.” he hummed “Go on, keep going.” he urged you as your dainty fingers reached for another plump strawberry.
He watched with greedy delight as you suckled the tip into your mouth, nibbling and licking at it exactly how he imagined you’d blow a guy. Kitten licks and tender kisses before you swallowed down the whole damn thing.
It seemed like every time Merle saw you, you always had something in your mouth; cigarettes, candy, sipping on some kinda drink or biting your nails. Hell, Merle had even seen you chewing on the end of a pocket knife one time. When you didn’t have dick in your mouth you desperately needed something else. He figured you must have some kinda oral fixation.
That thought alone had him squeezing his shaft tight, hips bucking up in the air as he hissed at the pressure. The movement and sound he’d made had you tensing, thighs clenching and you whimpered. It was a small quiet sound but Merle had caught it. That was it. That was enough for him.
“Let me show ya somethin’, sugar.”
He was on his feet in an instant, hand out of his pants as he walked towards you, slow and deliberate. Your eyes flitted over his figure as he approached, unsure on where to look, but when he settled in front of you they landed on his face, looking up at him under long dark lashes.
He was looking down at you with pure reverence; you looked so small, so submissive. He reached for your hand, the one still sticky with fruit juice, his touch not yet firm, giving you the chance to bolt, to slap him away, cuss him out and kick him out the front door.
“Wanna feel what ya do to me?” he breathed as he lifted your hand to cup him through his pants. “ ‘s all for you, beautiful.”
He removed his hand from yours, testing you, seeing what you’d do next. Your hand on his crotch was featherlight at first, fingers trembling. He sucked in a breath as you lightly trailed the length of the hard outline of his cock, pressing harder the further you went. You gasped as you felt the sheer size of him, swallowing hard while Merle beamed down at you.
“That’s it, baby.” He cooed “got me all hot and heavy for ya.” He tangled one hand in your hair, craning your neck back to look him in the eye, his other hand grasping at your chin. He ran his thumb over the sticky mess of fruit juice clinging to your skin. “Messy girl.” he murmured affectionately.
He sucked his thumb into his lips, tongue lapping up the juice coating his fingers. It tasted sweet, thick and sickly, the combined flavours of your spit and strawberries was hypnotic. Entirely you. His hand was back on your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip.
“Open up.” he hushed.
There was no resistance as he pushed his thumb into your mouth, lips locking round his knuckle as you took it in deep. Your eyes were locked on his as you ran your tongue over his skin, tasting his own viscous saliva.
“There we go…” he was rubbing soothing circles in your scalp as you moaned around his thumb, eyes growing glazed and hazy. It took everything Merle had not to just flip you over and force himself into you there and then. Your immediate subservience was addicting. He knew you were just begging to be tamed, rolling over and taking it like a good girl. But he needed to take his time, make this last. Show you what a real good fuck was.
“Ya gonna let me have a taste, sugar?” He whispered and you all but whimpered as he tightened his hold on the back of your head “Bet ya taste real sweet, like candy.” You responded by squeezing the outline of his cock as he grunted in satisfied pleasure.
He pulled the beer still held in your other hand out of your fingers, bringing it up to his lips and taking a long swig. He slid his thumb from your lips, down to your chin pulling down firm to open your mouth wider. You gasped out at the sensation of beer hitting your tongue as he spat the stream of liquid directly into your mouth. He pushed your mouth closed, fingers travelling down to trace the column of your throat, feeling the movements of your muscles contracting as you swallowed down beer.
“Good girl.” he groaned, pleased with your compliance.
He moved to sit on the couch next to you, legs sprawled out all dominating as he patted his thigh.
“Come take a seat, sweetheart,” he was all confidence, shit eating grin plastered over his face. “We're gonna have a real fun time.”
The sight of you crawling into his lap, thighs straddling his own as you pressed against him, had Merle’s balls tightening. He felt like a goddamn horny teenager again, ready to blow his load already.
He was on you in an instant, hands gripping your hips as his lips attacked your neck. He nipped and licked at your skin, breath ragged as he bit down hard when you let out a low stuttering moan. Your hands flew to his shoulders, gripping hard while you rolled your hips against his, grinding down as the hands on your hips squeezed, encouraging you to go harder, deeper.
“That’s it, baby,” he husked against your throat “feels good, don’ it?” You yelped as he slapped your ass, hand squeezing the supple flesh before he reached up and unclasped your bra in one flick of his hand. Your breasts fell free and Merle’s eyes were drawn to the jewelry pierced through each nipple, pink plastic crystal heart dangling off each bar.
He gave your tits a good squeeze, feeling the weight of them in his palms before his mouth was all over you. Open mouthed kisses peppered over your supple flesh. He suckled a nipple between his teeth and bit down hard. You moaned, loud and unfiltered as Merle smirked against your skin.
“Knew ya’d be a screamer.” he rasped “Keep singin’ baby, betcha man never makes you sound like this.”
You dipped your head down, lips meeting his, effectively shutting him up. Clearly you didn’t wanna be thinking about Lucas right now. Merle was surprised at your sudden impulse but wasted no time in pushing his tongue into your mouth. It was messy and uncoordinated, teeth and tongues clashing against each other, but the unfiltered pure desire from you had his cock throbbing in his pants.
“Fuck,” you pulled back, panting “Merle, you stink.” Your face was scrunched up in disgust but the absolute look of lewd need in your eyes was unmistakable. Merle grinned, unphased by your insult, eyes roaming over your body and hands still guiding your grinding hips.
“Betcha like that though, doncha darlin’?” voice hot and filthy “whores like ya don’t want some clean sissy boy. Ya need a real man.”
His fingers were reaching for the button on your shorts, fumbling them open and pulling down your zipper. His breath hitched as he dipped his hand into your shorts. No panties. “Shit.” He hissed through his teeth, “ya real somethin’ aincha?”
He ran a finger along your slit, humming approvingly “Ya soaked” he muttered, teeth clenched to ground himself. “Pussy practically droolin’ for my cock”
You tried to grind down on his fingers, desperately seeking more friction for your frustrated aching clit. He withdrew his hand and you groaned out irritated, fingers digging into his shoulders as you glared at him.
Merle just smirked at you teasingly, “touch ya’self for me, sugar, wanna watch ya fall apart sittin’ pretty in my lap.”
“Lazy asshole.” you muttered, pissed he was making you do this yourself but your fingers were already digging deep into your shorts, squirming your fingers into your opening. He watched with greedy hungry eyes while you rocked against your hand, grinding with long rolling thrusts as you sighed in relief. He wanted the sight of you, whimpering and needy as you finger fucked yourself, etched permanently in his brain. This wasn’t a sight he’d ever get tired of.
His hands braced on your thighs, rubbing encouragingly, urging you to move faster, to chase your high. His hands looked huge splayed across your soft flesh, rough and calloused. A real man’s hands. This was what you needed. A real fucking man to feel you up. An idea occurred to him and he grinned.
He lifted one arm, resting it lazily behind his head as he bared his armpit. Before you could object he was using his other hand to push at the back of your head, smothering you against his hairy pit.
“Fuck!” Your curse was muffled, face pressed flush against his sweating stinking skin as you stilled your movements and tried to jerk back.
“Sh shh shhh” he held you firm, unflinching “ ‘s alright, sweet thing. Don’t fight it. Know this is what you want.”
You remained still, Merle’s grip still locked round you as he waited for you to settle again and show your willingness to submit. He felt it in the shift of your thighs as you steadily picked up the rocking of your hips, fingers once again working in and out of your tight hole. He felt you inhale, deep and long, and the moan you let out went straight to his dick.
You were huffing in deep needy breaths, panting into his armpit completely engulfed in his scent. He knew how he smelled - sour, stale and musky. A cloying mixture of sweat, dirt, booze and oil. The scent of a real man.
Merle was out of his mind watching you fuck yourself, your breath coming out in desperate whines. Never in his life had he been this fucking hard, dick straining in his pants, stimulated by the visuals of a writhing moaning slut tucked in his lap. His brain damn near shortwired when he felt your soft wet tongue snake out, licking a stripe up the length of his armpit, swallowing down the salty sweaty taste of him.
“That’s it. That’s it,” he encouraged, voice raw “knew ya’d like this. Knew this was what ya needed.”
The air was filled with your loud groans and the obscene wet slurping sounds of your needy mouth, licking and suckling into his pit. You were pure filth. Getting off on the taste and smell of a man’s sweat. You were new levels of disgusting and fucked up and merle couldn’t wait to devour you. You were made for him.
Your hips were moving faster, grinding down on your fingers, free hand clenched in the fabric of Merle’s wifebeater. You were getting close, he could feel it in the way you gripped him, in the husk of your voice as you moaned.
“Ya gonna cum for me, baby?” he breathed, voice laboured.
You could only whine in response, hips stuttering as you reached your edge. “Yeah?” he huffed out a laugh at your neediness “Gonna cum on them pretty fingers? Cum while you’re tasting Merle?”
You were breathing hard and fast, tongue working the skin of his pit, hips moving in short bucking thrusts.
“F-fuck.” you whimpered out, voice catching in your throat as you reached your peak. Merle felt the moment your orgasm hit you, back arching and nails digging so hard into his chest he thought you might draw blood. You let out a choked gasp, hot breath against his skin, jaw dropping in a silent scream.
“That’s it, ride it out, baby,” he soothed “did so fuckin’ good, sweet thing.”
You lifted your face from the crook of his armpit, head lifting to meet his eyes. Fuck. You looked breathtaking. Your eyes were glazed over, blissed and fucked out, lips and chin slick with the combined heady mix of your own drool and Merle’s sweat.
He leaned forward, lips capturing yours as he dragged his tongue over the slick covering you, tasting himself. You were breathing hard, harsh panting breaths, so he pulled back to let you compose yourself, content to watch you in your dazed satiated state.
His eyes shifted to your hand as you removed it from your shorts, focusing on the mess that coated your fingers.
Clear, sticky and dripping.
He was guiding your hand to his mouth before he could even think clearly, lips wrapping around your delicate fingers. He ran his tongue down their lengths, humming with satisfaction at the taste. Musky, tangy and a lil sweet. His eyes met yours as he pulled your fingers out with a slurping pop.
“Knew it,” he huffed, smirking at you “sweet like fucking candy.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at how cheesy he could be. “Real sexy, Merle.”
Bitch. Still on a high horse even after eating out his fucking armpit. His cock was straining against his jeans, hard and painful so he shifted his hips up, grinding up against you, making you jump in surprise, still sensitive.
“Feel that sweetheart?” he kept thrusting up against you, “Ya gonna help me out, huh? Show lil Merle some love, hmm?” He watched the way you cringed at the name he called his cock but you still reached your hands forward, nimble fingers pulling down the zipper of his pants.
He lifted his hips up, brushing your hands out of the way as he eased his jeans down - just enough to pull his cock out of his underwear, sighing in relief as his dick met the warm cloying air. He caught the way your eyes widened slightly at the sheer girth and length of him. Now, you could say many things about Merle Dixon but if you said he was anything but hung? You’d be a damn right liar.
“Like what ya see?” He chuckled all smug, giving himself a few lazy tugs. He knew he was corny, talking like he was in a shitty porno but he couldn’t help himself, not with the way he could feel your thighs trembling in anticipation, sitting deep and heavy in his lap.
“Whatever,” you muttered “I ain’t putting that thing in my mouth” He bursted out laughing at that. Oh you were so rich.
“What? My dick ain’t good enough for ya but my pit is?” he cackled, hand still working over his length, distracting you.
“Let’s just get this over with.” Merle could hear the embarrassment in your voice, face flushed as you lifted yourself up on your knees, shimmying out of your shorts, keen to just let him fuck you so he’d leave. His eyes immediately locked onto your now exposed pussy. Shit. It was both lewd and pretty, just like the rest of you. He cupped your glistening mound, making you gasp, a growl reverberating in his chest.
“Now, that’s what im fuckin’ talking about,” he leered at you, squeezing hard “pussy like this needs a real dick, from a real man.”
He pulled you forward in his lap, hands gripping your hips as he guided your wet slit over his dick, your folds hugging his length. Up and down, up and down.
“Oh…” you breathed as the firm head of his cock kept nudging your swollen clit.
The drag of your pussy engulfing him was driving him insane, groaning low in his throat, he watched with heavy lidded eyes as you glided over him. He was gonna fucking ruin you.
“You got a rubber?” you were breathless, quiet voice bringing him back to reality.
“Nah.” He huffed, grinning “Pussy like this needs to be fed raw.”
You didn’t protest, but when you leaned back - reaching behind you - he briefly thought you were gonna dismount him, spouting some bullshit about no rubber no ride. Pfft. As if.
But when he saw what you pulled off the table, he felt like he’d won a fucking prize. Merle watched as you brought your well-used pipe up to your lips, packed tight with crystal as you lighted up and took a long drag. He was in disbelief. He’d done way too many shitty things to good people for god to have blessed him with meth and such an obedient whore.
You held the smoke in your mouth as he was already lifting his hand to take both lighter and flute off you, but you stilled his movements by shifting forward and pressing your lips to his. His eyes rolled back in his head as you breathed the smoke into his mouth, groaning as he inhaled deep, sucking down your breath like it was oxygen.
You pulled back once he’d gulped it down, pipe back in between your lips as you sparked the lighter once again. This time when you held the smoke in your mouth you lined your dripping entrance with the head of his cock. Merle bit his lip so hard it almost bled as his velvety head notched into your tight warm cunt. No fucking way.
When your lips met his and you pushed the smoke down his throat he almost choked as he felt you sink down his length, slowly taking him until you were down to the hilt.
He pulled back from your lips, a harsh sharp gasp burning his lungs. The euphoric rush of the high combined with your tight walls squeezing him has his head reeling. His chest was heaving with laboured breaths, hands gripping painfully tight on your hips letting you rest flushed against him - just feeling you there, taking his cock speared so deep inside you. He was high and pussy drunk and in complete bliss, could have stayed like that forever, but then you started moving.
You lifted your hips, almost to the tip of his cock before dropping back down, picking up a frenzied rhythm. Merle’s head lolled back on the leather behind him, groaning loud and deep.
“Fuck, baby,” he hissed through his teeth “ya ride like a goddamn whore.”
Your hands were grasping his filthy sweat stained shirt, nails digging into the fabric as you rode him hard and fast. He eyed your tits as they bounced with your vigorous movement, pulling his lip between his teeth as a flood of gasping moans left your lips. Both of his hands left your hips to slap down hard on your ass, squeezing your cheeks rough and relishing the sharp gasp he drew from you.
“Go on sugar, don’t hold back.” he growled “Let me hear ya.”
He wasn’t sure how long he’d last, your vulgar frantic riding paired with his intense high was almost too much - hypnotic and intoxicating, he could feel his balls tightening as his release neared. Not yet. He had to feel you cumming on his cock or he’d never forgive himself, so he brought his hand to your clit, thumb rubbing quick tight circles over the swollen bud.
“Oh, FUCK!” you threw your head back, whole body tensing never once stopping your canting, rolling hips.
“Come on, sweet thing,” he was grinning up at you, captivated by your contorting squirming body “feel that? Feel how good it is?”
You nodded your head eagerly; “ ‘s good. So good” your words were slurred, completely overwhelmed as he rubbed you closer to orgasm. Fuck. He’d pictured fucking you a thousand times before but not even his filthy mind could have imagine how good you’d look split in half over his cock, gasping, moaning and whimpering.
He could feel your walls clench around him, fluttering as you cried out, head falling to his shoulder.
“That’s right, baby, cum on my cock.” He huffed, pressing kisses to your temple “Wanna feel ya squeeze me.”
You screamed outloud as you came, your gushing tight pussy gripping his cock like a fucking vice as you stilled, body seized up and tense.
“Fuck, sugar, there ya go, there ya go.” He didn’t let you rest though. As soon as you stilled from exhaustion, he had you gripped by the hips, holding you still as he pounded up into you, jackhammering you hard and fast. You were releasing a garbled slur of curses, pussy still convulsing as you came down the high of your orgasm.
“Ah- Merle.” you whimpered his name and something in him snapped. He had you flipped on your back in an instant, hands clamped tight around your throat, pinning you down as he snapped his hips against yours.
“Yeah, that’s it say my fucking name.” he grunted, voice low and mean “Say it! Remember who’s fucking ya. Who’s making this pussy feel so good.”
He fucked you into the couch like a man posessed, setting a vicious steady rhythm barely letting you catch your breath. You were mewling, whimpering his name over and over as he squeezed his hands hard around your neck, cutting off any airflow. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at his brutal touch, breath choking on a gasp as he felt you clench hard around him.
“Knew ya’d like it rough,” he snarled, “knew ya’d be a dumb slut for my cock. Look at ya, taking it so well like a bitch”
He held you tight by your throat, picking up his pace as he slammed into you, huffing out rough gasps over your face as he felt his orgasm building. Fuck, he was so close.
Just as your eyes started to flutter, signaling your near loss of consciousness, he let go, hand striking down to slap you hard across your face. Your breath flooded back in a stuttering rush, the sharp impact of his hand had you reeling, gasping as you came for a third time, pussy squeezing his thick shaft tight.
“Oh fuck, ya gonna milk me dry, sweetheart.” He was fucking faster and harder than he had in his life, making a complete mess of your pussy “Gonna fill ya up.”
Your walls kept fluttering round him, coaxing him closer to release.
“Fuck, such a good slut, such a goddamn whore” he was spewing obsentities at you, fucking you straight to the hilt “shit, SHIT gonna-”
His words died in his throat as he came, hard. Hips stilling as he shot thick hot ropes of cum deep inside you. He shuddered, groaning, gently rocking his hips as he rode his orgasm out. A part of him hoped it would take, he’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face as he realised his chick was knocked up by a Dixon.
He pulled out with a satisfied moan, eyes lighting up with glee at the sight of his spend leaking out of your tight hole. He swiped up a glob, pushing it past your lips despite your protests. His lips curled as you suckled the cum from his thumb, swallowing it down.
“Good girl.” He purred, wiping hair from your sweat drenched forehead, “Ya a real good lay, sugar. Won’t be the last time we do that shit.” He winked at you. “But maybe let me use ya whore mouth next time, hmm?”
You rolled your eyes, pushing him off you as you sat up. “Whatever.” You were back on your pipe, taking in a slow drag, not considerate enough to blow it into Merle’s mouth this time. Already smoking before you even put your clothes back on? Merle smirked to himself. Where the hell had you been his whole life?
“You’d best get the fuck out” you blew out a plume of smoke and Merle wished his lips were on the receiving end, “don’t think my man would be all too happy to see you like this.”
Merle scoffed, “Oh let him come, ya think im scared of that twig kid?” You just hummed in response, clearly unbothered. Lucas didn’t have the balls to ever hit you so you weren’t in any real trouble.
“Just warnin’ ya, baby,” Merle continued “I ain't gonna offer to pay for any Plan B shit.”
“I’ve got an implant, moron.” you scoffed, clearly no longer horny and sick of his shit. He wondered if you regretted fucking him. He grinned at the self loathing you must have felt after being all gasping and needy for him. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get you like that again.
“The hell’s that mean?” he merely grunted.
“Goddamn you’re dumb,” your hand flew to your forehead, “forget it.” Despite your animosity you still handed your flute and lighter to Merle, who was deeply amused at the gesture. Yeah, you really were all talk.
“Y’know,” you were trying to hide a smirk behind your hand as you bit at your nail “probably a good idea to get it tested.”
He looked at you as he toked on the pipe “What’s that ‘sposed to mean?” he grumbled.
“Your dick.” you stated, eyes trained on his now soft cock, still sticking out of his greased up jeans “unless you want it to fall off.”
“Fuck!” realisation dawned on him “ya a real nasty skank” but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice. He was right all along. You really were made for him. You just smiled at him, blowing him a kiss as you laid back and kicked your legs up into his lap.
“You know you love it, Dixon.”
