#scud x female reader

[dixons-sunshine]

Ticklish | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

The sun had just began its slow descent down between the mountains. Outside, the songs the birds so merrily sung each day began being replaced by the sounds of crickets and owls hooting in the distance. The usually bustling streets of your neighbourhood were surprisingly quieter than most days, and it appeared to be the perfect night to stay in and watch a movie with your boyfriend.

However, Joshua Frohmeyer could be an unpredictable man, and somehow you ended up on your back on his mattress, his body hovering over yours. But instead of doing far more pleasurable activities in that position, your boyfriend had other plans.

“Josh!” your voice rung out through the air, the sound being punctuated with the shrieks of laughter that you emitted. “Please!”

Scud’s own chuckles filled the air of your room. However, the man did not cease his attacks. His hands continued their relentless onslaught, his fingers working at your sides, which just so happened to be one of the spots you were most ticklish. Your sides were being playfully tormented by your boyfriend’s work-worn hands, and there appeared to be no escape from his attacks.

You squirmed around to attempt to flee from him, but Scud held you firmly in place. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes from the continuous laughter, and you were happy that the day walker wasn’t in that night, because you were sure he would have barged in to complain about the noise.

“Baby, please!” you pleaded with Scud, your hands trying to push his off. However, your attempts were futile. “Josh!”

Your next move was entirely unintentional. You were only trying to adjust your leg. You hadn’t intended for your knee to bend, and you certainly did not intend for your knee to make contact with Scud’s crotch.

Scud’s attacks finally let up, but not in the way you had wanted. He groaned in pain and rolled off of you onto his back, his eyes screwed shut. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned painfully.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized what you had done. You scrambled into a seated position, your eyes trailing over Scud as you contemplated whether or not you were allowed to touch him after that. “Oh my god,” you whispered in horror, remorse evident on your face. “Josh, I am so fucking sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. I am so sorry, Baby.”

“Pretty sure you didn’t have to resort to violence, Babe,” Scud told you, his face still scrunched up in pain. He opened one of his eyes to peer at you. “Fuck. That really hurt.”

“I’m so sorry, Josh,” you frantically apologized. “I really didn’t mean—”

“Ain’t gonna be able to have kids after this. You kneed me really hard,” Scud interrupted you, a faint, teasing smirk on his face.

You noticed the playful look in his eyes, and realization dawned on you. “You’re taking the piss out of me, aren’t you?” you questioned. You got your answer in the form of Scud’s laugh. You playfully hit him on his arm. “You jerk! Did I even really hurt you?”

“Nah. You kneed my thigh,” Scud admitted with a hearty laugh. “But I couldn’t help myself. I had to.”

You let out a small scoff, but a smile still graced your features. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“Yeah, and yet ya love me.”

“I do,” you agreed, shaking your head. “Against my better judgement, but I do.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Simply Save Me

Pairing: Scud x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cock warming; minor drug use; sexual themes

Summary: Scud is a known bad boy but what happens when you act like a bad girl?

A/N: Just catching plot bunnies with @lazyneonrabbitt 🩵

It was incredibly difficult to keep still, nearly impossible. You were so full, the intrusion that at first burned had morphed into a pleasurable stretch. You were near desperate to feel him moving inside you, massaging your deepest walls. 

“Josh.” You had your arms wound around his neck with your face buried against his shoulder. The position was necessary so he could adequately see the screen. With his biceps bracketing your ribs, he was able to handle the controller, moving it back and forth instinctually trying to encapsulate the movements on the television. 

“Come on, man! It was right there!” Scud yelled into the headset. You wanted to shush him, suddenly afraid that Blade or, oh god, Whistler would barge in to complain about the noise. They would find you utterly bare and split open on your boyfriend’s cock, clinging to him with tears in your eyes. Scud was still clothed, belt and zipper spread open. It was bad enough that the strangers he chose to game with could hear every whine and whimper.

“Please, Josh. Please.” You brushed your lips over his throat, licking his pulse point and feeling his heartbeat thrumming beneath your tongue. 

“Sit still, baby. Almost got this round in the bag.” He leaned, continuing to press buttons on the controller while grabbing up the half of a joint from the ashtray. The movement had him nearly pulling out only to fully re-enter you. 

“God, I need you. Please.” You began to roll your hips, the smell of weed wafting into your nostrils to combine with the spicy scent of his skin. He grunted and placed one hand on your hip, growling when you heard the specific tone indicating his character in the game had died. 

“Aw, man. Crash and burn. Couldn’t just stay still, could ya, girl? Wasn’t enough to just sit pretty on me, just had to take more.” You continued at a slow pace, already panting from the pleasure, how your walls would tighten only to be stretched back open with each downward roll. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I just needed you so bad.” You breathed against his ear. The controller and headset hit the floor with a thud and then his other hand was sliding up your side, over to palm at your breast. “Oh, god, yes. Touch me.” One hand disappeared as he hit the joint one last time, holding his breath as he put it out in the ashtray.  

“Gonna wish you’d been good for me, babe.” He smirked with smoke billowing from his mouth and nose. Both hands slid around to your ass, grabbing greedy handfuls before gripping tight to lift you with him as he stood. You whimpered when he pulled out and deposited you on his bed, your hungry cunt left clenching around nothing. 

The drawer to the nightstand slid open. You knew exactly what that meant for you. He was considering all the options at his disposal, finally reaching inside to pull out something with a quick flash of purple. Scud was notorious for tweaking anything he could use in the bedroom or crafting something of his own. A shiver ran over your form, anticipation building. You never knew what your boyfriend had planned for you. And you had just given him plenty reason to torture you in the most pleasurable ways his skilled mind could create. 

Bowing over you at the same time something silicone pressed against your hot core, the inventor kissed you, grinning against your lips. 

“Hold on, baby girl. The Scudster’s gonna show you what happens when you don’t behave.”

[yevmarie]

Angst 💔, Fluff 💖, Smut 🔥

C:\Main Masterlist\Daryl Dixon

Light My Fire | Series | 💔💖

C:\Main Masterlist\Scud Joshua Fromeyer

My Angel. My Devil. | One Shot | 🔥

You Own Me | One Shot | 🔥

C:\Main Masterlist\Norman Reedus

Perverted Perfume Review: Kiehl's Original Musk

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Double The Fangs, Double The Fun

➳ Summary: Daryl and Scud are regulars at the bar you work at, but they're only really there for you. One night while chatting, you injure yourself, so they help you home to heal up (Vamp!Daryl & Vamp!Scud x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: idfk sometime, somewhere, no apocalypse (this is a crossover fic for smut lets be real)

➳ Word count: 5.5k (3k of it is smut)

➳ C/W: VAMPIRES ‼️‼️, minor wound, blood (duh), biting/vampire feeding, double penetration, hints of Scud's mommy kink

➳ A/N: I wrote doc title for this as “DTFx2” cuz of the lettering, not even realizing the “down-to-fuck” till later, plus it being 2 partners – I cooked on this title. BUT ANYWAY I AM FUELING THE VAMP!DARYL FIRE AND VAMP!SCUD TOO BECAUSE THIS IS A PLAGUE AND I AM ILL AND I WILL SPREAD IT

You stretched your arms up over your head, leaning forward against the counter in front of you. It was another slow weeknight, no customers present, hindered by the fact the bar was tucked away in some deader part of the city. It was pretty boring, but you got paid for kinda just diddleling around a lot of the time. You rhythmically tapped your fingertips against the surface, but straightened up when the door jingled open.

“Fuck, I was about to start praying you two would show up. ‘Ts borin' as shit in here,” You laughed as two familiar faces walked in from the night; Daryl and Scud. They were your regulars, stopping by most any time you were on shift. And you heard from coworkers sometimes they'd show up, see that you weren't there, and just leave.

You never found it creepy though, it wasn't like that. They were always very respectful towards you, kind of chivalrous, but not obnoxiously. They'd always buy a drink and tip heavy, or just straight up give you money – and would scare off the actually creepy drinkers: the one's that'd prey on a woman as if she was frail. You didn't require them, having pepper spray and a gun beneath the counter, but they gave you extra security. And we're good company.

Scud, who you knews real name was Josh – the more ‘loverboy’ one of the two – popped by most nights after work. He was really sweet, having grown a soft spot for him and letting him bend the rules; like allowing him to smoke a joint, or three, inside, so long as he shared them with you. He claimed he was a sort of engineer, which you found a little surprising given you'd never seen him without the skunky smell of weed wafting around his figure, but it's not like it mattered to you.

Daryl, on the other hand, was much more reserved, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't intrigue you. He appeared older, and more of a rarity, seeming to drift in and out of town: which made sense given that scratchy, deep southern accent he carried.

“Ain't gon’ pass up seein’ ya, moonshine,” Daryl grinned as he sauntered up to take a seat, Scud following right behind and taking the one opposite him. ‘Moonshine’ is what he always called you, given you were a bartender, and it was ironic because you never saw either of them till after sundown. “Shift slow?”

“Painfully,” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Ion even know how we get enough profit to keep this place open. Not sure anyone in our staff remembers the last time we saw the owner in person. I swear this is some money laundering scheme.”

“‘Least your gettin’ paid, yeah? My boss don't even got me onna regular schedule,” Scud tisked, reaching into the pocket of his large, layered jacket and pulling out the container he kept his joints in. “Ya wanna J?”: To which you nodded and he passed you one. Daryl's observant gaze watched your every movement, as he typically did.

“Ya get yer nails done, darlin’?” He asked, squinting his pale blue eyes and setting his hand out as you lit the joint.

“Hm?” Your eyes flicked to him, understanding, and you set your palm in his hand so he could see. Pressed to your nail beds were coffin acrylics, painted a rich red, the gloss making them almost bloody. “Jus’ got ‘em done this morning. Figured if ‘m gonna be sittin’ here twiddling my thumbs half the time they might as well look good.”

“Looks perfect on ya.” Your gazes locked together for a moment, hypnotic in a way as his irises seemed to pulse, then suddenly shift down. He loomed closer and ran his thumb over your fingers, appreciating the gleaming texture that reflected in the dim light.

“Real pretty momma's,” Scud added as he took a long drag of his smoke, holding it for a moment before skillfully exhaling in a long plume that dissipated and began to fill the small space with a haze.

“Mm, thank you boys,” You turned a little, offering a bashful smile at their endless complimenting – they showered you with affectionate comments every time they came in. “Either of you want somethin’? It can be on the house, think the workers drink more than customers.”

“‘Ll take'ah whiskey – ‘nd m’payin’ ya anyway, angel,” Daryl replied, fishing for his wallet and passing you bills that more than doubled the price of a shot. Frankly you felt bad sometimes, like you were taking his money, but gave up a long time ago with trying to decline. He insisted.

As you went to grab the iconic bottle of Jack Daniel's off the shelf behind you, your elbow stuck out a bit too far and knocked over a large glass you'd been using for water, sending it to the floor where it shattered. “Ugh, never complain that you're bored at work. Fate'll always make ya clean.”

You quickly poured the auburn grog into a shot and slid it across the wood countertop to Daryl, dropping to your knees to pick up the larger shards.

“Fuck!” You seethed, accidentally slicing open the palm of your hand by sweeping it over the edge of a fragment in the other, your joint nearly falling from where you'd pinched it between your lips. Both men bounded from their stools to look over, simultaneously uttering ‘Ya alrigh's?''s. You half-clutched your fist and rose to be level again, hitching your breath with a small whine as striking pain electrified your nerves.

Blood quickly began to spill from the gash, running down your wrist and upper forearm before dripping to the floor a couple times as Daryl snapped to grab a clean rag from behind the bar so you could hold pressure, moving so fast he registered as just a whoosh. As your eyes were shut in pain, theirs were blown open, locked onto the crimson that tinted your skin. They could see the microscopic way it gushed a bit more from every beat of your heart.

Tendrils of that sweet, mind warping scent curled through the air and around the pair's bodies. God it smelled so damn good – you smelled so good. They didn't wish you harm, but they'd just been agonizingly waiting to someday, by some chance, get to smell the life-giving fluid that pumped through your veins without the blockage your skin created, keeping the complete experience inside of you. And they could only dream of getting to taste it…

You spun back to face them, and swore for a second, the color of both their blue eyes had altered to match the plasma soaking into the grey washcloth in your grip – their faces flat like they hadn't eaten in years and you just baited the idea of a gourmet feast. But once you blinked, they were back to azure, concern etched across eyebrows and frowns. Maybe it was just the shitty brilliance of the bar.

“‘M fine, jus’ being mindless I guess. Scud, how the hell are ya smokin’ and working with wires ‘n soldering shit,” You shook your head, blaming your incident on the brain fog from weed, although it was a poor excuse given it should not have taken effect that fast. Perhaps you were just embarrassingly locked on auto-pilot.

“Ya look like yer bleedin’ bad, princess. Lemme see.” Daryl beckoned you over and took your hand. His body tensed, that dangerous feeling of his canines extending creeping up. It took all he had to not press his mouth to you. He knew better, he had control. You let him remove the rag, examining the cut and finding it to be quite deep, him stating it might have to be closed

“We don't got any medical stuff here ‘sides maybe a few bandaids. I'd be surprised if anybody else came in ‘ere tonight so I'll just close up ‘n deal with it home. Sorry to cut our chat time short guys…” You gave a half frown, taking an unsteady inhale and trying to mask the aching in your extremity. You smothered the joint, enjoyment ruined.

“Don't gotta apologize mama's. Wantcha to be okay,” Scud commented, mirroring your expression. Looking between him and Daryl, you felt there was some synergy connecting them, like they were communicating despite both staring at you.

“Why don't we take ya home, mebbe have me patch tha fer ya, hm?” Daryl suggested, readjusting his leather jacket as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh, no. I don't wanna bother either of ya with that…”

“‘Ts no bother, sugar. We wanna make sure you're safe. ‘Ts late, dark, ‘nd you're bleedin’. Don't want anythin’ bad happening to ya,” Scud explained, his every word ending on a sort of mewl as he plucked his joint from his mouth to speak clearly.

“Alright – just cause I know you two will follow me to check anyway.” You grabbed your things, Daryl and Scud helping to close up the bar so you didn't further injure yourself, then leaving with you. It was reasonable for them to come with, and this wouldn't be the first time. And this wasn't the safest part of town, so it wouldn't hurt to have them.

❥-》》—————➣

When you returned to your apartment, both of them praised your designing of the interior, having not been inside before. To you it wasn't much of anything special, but again, it was just in their nature to say kind things to you.

You nodded Daryl in the direction of your bathroom so he could grab some ointment and gauze, going to sit on the couch as Scud plopped beside you. You easily could've nursed it yourself, but if there was anything you really knew about Daryl, it was his tendency to always be doing favors – and not letting you decline.

“Y'know… I know a way tah make that heal faster than any dressings could,” Scud broke the silence, dragging his gaze over your frame, and landing on your hand where you still held the soiled rag. He couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't have the control that Daryl did.

“What do you mean?” You now faced him, confused at the way his breathing seemed to grow a bit heavier, chest puffing further out despite his lazy posture. But he straightened some, scooting closer to you and reaching for your hand.

“Just trust me on this…” He was salivating, bottom lip practically trembling with anticipation. He was so close, access to your fresh blood right there. God how he ached for it every time he saw your beautiful face, just so damn entranced by you. He tried not to completely lose his mind as he neared your palm.

“Um… yer gonna get it infected doin’ that.”

“Won't.” And his mouth hovered right above it.

“Seriously, Scud, what are you doing?” Now you were concerned, tempted to call Daryl back. Was this some weird sex thing? His way of trying to seduce you? Taking ‘kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better’ a bit too far. But you sensed this… energy, radiating off of him, drawing out your naïve trait of curiosity. Something felt different about him, although you guess it always did – but only now could you really perceive it, having him so close. “What are you? ”

Scud's eyes flicked up to yours, blue flipped across the scale of hues to match the color you'd caught a glimpse of at the bar – the color of your blood, and those flawless new nails. “Whadda ya think I am, sweetheart?”

As his lips peeled back with a grin, you could see the lengthy, pin-sharp fangs that descended from the roof of his mouth, glistening with his famine. Your mouth fell open, pupils dilating as realization worked through your brain. Oh shit. Oh, shit..? You didn't speak, but didn't know what to say anyway.

He chuckled at your reaction. “Jus’ relax, mama's.” Finally. His tongue darted out, dragging a long lick over the front of your wound, causing you to wince and jerk a little. It didn't particularly hurt, but was so odd at the start. Scud held back a moan, but couldn't help his remarks: “Mmm, you taste so good… bettah than I ever imagined…”

You swallowed thickly, watching him work saliva over your tender flesh, and lapping away any remnants of the blood that ran down your arm. He stared intensely into your eyes as he drew a long, excessively slow lick up your limb and back to the wound. You felt it begin to radiate, an unfamiliar warmth centralizing over the cut but spreading out into your entire palm.

He brushed his lips against your fingers with a featherlite kiss, and reluctantly pulled away, letting you watch branches of skin connect together from both sides, color quickly shifting back to your normal tone, and your hand completely unscathed. You flexed your tendons, feeling it for yourself. It was completely healed, a two-week time lapsing into under a minute.

“Why'd ya show ‘er.” Daryl's voice was stern, silently standing behind the couch and startling you as you whipped around. You should've figured – it wouldn't take that long to find simple first aid in your bathroom.

“Known ‘er for long enough, D. Why let'er suffer with some gash if we can just heal it for her?” Scud replied and shrugged innocently. But his wording was key; ‘we’.

“You're both vampires,” You nodded dryly as Daryl grumbled something under his breath and came around the couch to sit on the other side of you. Now the ‘moonshine’ was really ironic. “Okay… I assume if you were gonna drain me ya woulda done it by now.”

“Don't tempt me, baby,” Scud smirked, and Daryl shot him a harsh glare. “What? Sure she appreciates the healin’ at least!”

“Yeah, I do… but it's weirdly intimate, no? Just, wetly runnin’ yer tongue all over someone, gathering saliva on their skin, tastin’ the irony remnants of their blood-”

“Quit talkin’ like that,” Daryl hissed, your sight passing back to him, watching his adam's-apple bob and his jaw tense. His eyes reddened as well, and it dawned on you how teasing your choice of dialogue must've been for them.

“Or keep goin’. Like hearin’ your gorgeous voice say such pretty words,” Scud wet his lips, volume just above a whisper. You felt trapped between two sides of a spectrum, both equally covet… and you were way more into it than you would ever want to admit. Your jaw laxed with a weary breath, mind wandering further ahead than you liked it to. “But you're right, can be real intimate.” His voice dropped lower as he neared you, keeping sights intertwined.

“You're torturing me momma's… pleas’... would give anythin’ to feel ya,” He almost whimpered, puppy dog eyes peering up at you. “He would too, he's jus’ a lil’ more shy.”

It'd be the fattest lie of your life to say you didn't find him attractive, both of them. Closing the door behind you some nights after they'd walked you home, tempted to just bring them inside. How many times you muttered dirty words as your legs tangled in your bedsheets and you touched yourself, imagining how they'd sound in Scud's whiny hitches, or Daryl's gravelly grunts…

You reached up, taking Scud's chin in the light hold of your acrylics and bringing his mouth to yours. He directly melted, turning to puddy from that alone and cravingly dabbing your lips with his tongue. When you pulled back, he tried to follow, pining for more. But you wanted to be fair, and switched to the other man.

Daryl looked like he didn't know what to do, that effort of displaying confidence broken the second the gate he'd been waiting outside of for so long actually opened. But a quick ‘C'mere’, and the curling of your pointer finger brought him to you expeditiously, rough lips chafing over your moisted ones. He shoved away his groan, not quite ready for that yet.

“This ain't gonna stop at kissin’, right?” You checked on an exhale, both their eyes boring into you from either plane, the patterns of their breathing reworking themselves. Dropping it here would be teasing you now.

“S’ain't gon’ stop less ya want it to, moonshine,” He rasped, irises captivating and luring you back to him, clawed hand coming to his cheek – that made the groan slip. He inhaled sharply, ardently guiding his tongue into your mouth, which definitely made Scud jealous.

The engineer brought his hands to your waist, toying with the seams of your shirt as Daryl harshly tugged you closer to him, gaining momentum, growing hungrier. He explored the entire cavity of your mouth, feeling the heat of your gums, the smoothness of your teeth in comparison to his canines, and drew a moan from your throat, hints of a smile crinkling.

“Yer not good at hidin’ whatcha want, honeysuckle,” The southerner purred, trailing down to your jawline as Scud's lips pressed to the nape of your neck. You weren’t sure if he could tell by your body language, or was able to read your mind or something; all the near whorish thoughts running through your psyche.

“Then you should know how long I've thought about this.”

Daryl immediately hooked his strong arms under your thighs, shoving Scud back to stand up off the couch, your legs instinctively latching around his torso as he started to leave a hickey on your neck and find his way to your bedroom.

Scud awkwardly stood behind for a second, shyly glancing to the floor, feeling literally and figuratively pushed aside by the other's dominance. “C'mon Scuddy,” You mouthed, and he looked like he came in pants right there – hurdling to track after you.

Daryl roughly threw you onto the edge of your bed, simultaneously ripping your shirt up over your head. He reached down for the button of your jeans, quickly popping it out and tearing them off, leaving you in just your lacey, red bra and panties.

“Jeez, you ‘nd fuckin’ red, woman.” He bordered on a growl, sliding off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You sat upright on the rim the mattress, aiding Scud in dropping his many layers, but he teetered like he just wanted to fuck himself senseless with all it still on.

Both them now shirtless, you raked your nails down their chest, taking extra notice to follow the lightning-like scars carved into Scud's abdomen to your left. You let out a breathy curse at their defined v-lines and mouthwateringly sexy happy trails, discarding Daryl's belt, and gently cupping his pulsing erection through his jeans – the same through Scud's cargos.

One twitched, then the other, and you chuckled. “You two really want me that bad, huh?” You questioned, beaming up through your lashes with a flirty smirk: but that mischievous temping simmered seeing the pure lust on their features. They looked like they were gonna eat you alive, and honestly… you wouldn't mind it.

You undid their pants to drop them down, and with some sort of unspoken permission translating between the three of you, they pounced forward, resistance snapping like twigs. Scud hauled your body up the bed and instantaneously found your lips, already gasping into your mouth. His hands each found one of your breasts, fondling and pawing impatiently through your bra.

Daryl grabbed your hips, tugging you back down a little and drawing a wet lick from the hem of your panties up your navel, holding you to him as your spine arched. He kissed and sucked at the delicate skin on your pelvis and inner thighs, leaving behind litters of those gentle bruises on the surface, spotting across the curves of your body. His fangs grazed you as he worked, a persistent reminder of what a feral vampire could just take from you – but he was a humble man, and prefered to give.

You directed Scud to strip your bra, given he'd basically lost all ability to function the second your clothes were off, and even worse once he was on you. Now with your chest fully out, he was gone. He greedily sucked one nipple into his mouth, kneading the other like a cat, while Daryl curled a finger around the hem of your panties, deliberately running from side to side before he suddenly ripped them away – literally ripped. “Promise ‘ll buy ya new ones, babydoll.”

Whatever deeply guttural noise that erupted from you when Daryl's tongue made contact with your cunt was everything but holy. Your hips bucked up into his face so rapidly it almost caught him off guard, his palms splayed out on your thighs and his mouth latched onto your clit. He sucked in rapid pumps, before trawling down then back up and spreading your folds. He lapped up every bit of your pooled wetness, taking a deep inhale and the hidden claws in his fingertips nearing shooting out as his toes curled.

“Fuck! Yer pussy smell's'so fuckin’ good.” His words came out as near snarls, reverberating against your core. Should the view of him not have been obscured by Scud, you're sure you would've came at the sight of him so deeply intoxicated by just the scent of you. “‘Nd tastes so goddamn lovely.”

“‘Ts not fair, man, ah wanna taste ‘er-”

“Nah. Ya got ‘er hand, pussy's mine.” Now he was snarling, possessive crimson eyes stabbing into the other man as he'd turned to look back at him, burying himself deeper into your cunt and earning another wild moan. Scud frowned a little, but you brought your hands to his hips and readjusted him to be sitting on your chest, legs on either side of your body.

“Don't worry, baby.” And you rolled down his boxers so his dick was free: fully hard, tip swollen up and flushed with color, absolutely weeping for you, and it bobbed with a twitch. You wrapped your hand around the base, giving a few pressurized strokes as he bowed forward over your head and straight up whimpered in your ear, aching and pulsing and starved of touch and attention.

“Oh-.. God, momma's… t’so good…” He wove his fingers through your hair to tug lightly at the roots and anchor himself. But the second you put your tongue on him, he jerked forward and shoved into your mouth, cumming abruptly. He couldn't help it, you were; “Jus’ so warm…”

Still you swallowed it down, swiveling the tip of your tongue along the underside of his head, prolonging his high. You weren't surprised; with how frenzied he was, acting like he'd been edged for far too long – which you supposed he had, based on how he talked earlier – you pegged him for the kind to cum fast. He probably wanted you to actually peg him too.

Daryl tipped a domino by chuckling at the early orgasm, the sound waves making you moan around Scud's cock, which in return made him slide a bit deeper again. Daryl started to hum, and removed one hand from your thigh to slip two girthy fingers into you, curling them up and pressing into that sensitive spot in your walls. He focused his mouth on your clit, drawing it in with suction while he rapidly wagged his tongue, soon pumping his fingers in and out of you, and your moans picked up.

The shallow edge of Scud's claws inched further out and held your skull, careful to not scrape into your skin, but exigent nonetheless. His breathing descended into ragged heaving against the side of your head as you worked his cock like you knew every little thing that got him going.

“Getch'yer dick outta her mouth so Ah can hear ‘er cum,” Daryl barked, breaking contact from you for just a moment. Scud groaned, wanting so badly for you to deepthroat him, but he shifted over to the side, knowing Daryl would forcibly do it anyway. Now he moved impossibly faster, fingers stretching you open and filling the bedroom with wet noises from how he had you dripping.

Getting to hear you clearly now sent him into overdrive, grunting against your clit while Scud just laboriously returned to toying with your boobs. “C'mon girl, jus’ cum. Cum fer me. Wanna see yer gorgeous face.”

“Jesus, Daryl-” Your sentence split, and you cried out, trembling legs coming together and forcing him flush against you. You rode his face, a hand flying down to tug at his shaggy locks and assisting you in rolling your hips. He clutched you bruisingly hard, nearing ripping into you.

When your limbs relaxed again, he lavished long licks over your cunt, swirling the tangy, sticky nectar of your release over his entire mouth. “Mos’ perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“Pleas’ mommas, can I fuck ya?” Scud pleaded, cupping your face to catch his distress. Sharing was hard when one party was so much more controlling. Poor thing needed you.

But seeing Daryl yank down and discard his boxers, hard cock visibly throbbing and tip shaded red, he needed you too. And you could tell a blowjob just wouldn't settle it for either of them. “Fuck, just-.. both of you fuck me.”

“Can ya handle two, sweetheart?” Daryl exhorted, swiping a strayed bit of hair from your forehead and deftly tucking it back, slightly softened eyes checking for sincerity in your expression. With your nod, they acclimated to desire once again.

He flipped onto his back, and manhandled your body overtop of him, your back flattened on his chest, and Scud hurriedly positioning above. Daryl kept your legs spread apart with his, reaching around and palming at your breast while going down to slick himself between your soaked folds, slapping himself against you a couple times. “Ya tell us if s'too much, alrigh’?”

“Yea, yeah- please, just fuck me already,” You wailed as he angled you down and slipped deep into you, Scud giving you a second to adjust before coating spit over his shaft, and gently guiding into you as well.

Your back arched as Daryl held you firm, whining in delectable pain as they strained you further open than you ever had been, your acrylics digging into his waist beneath you. Scud layered himself onto you, sucking another hickey into your chest then rocking his hips a couple of times.

When you handled it well, Daryl took it as a cue to join him, plodding more in his thrusts to still give you the opportunity to bail if this wasn't to your liking. Your eyelids fluttered closed, head lulling back to rest on Daryl's shoulder as your heavy breaths fell in line with the pace. When Scud pushed in, Daryl would pull out, and vice versa: always keeping you full while maintaining the motion that granted so much ecstasy to you three. Every one of their filthy noises sounded incomprehensibly better than you'd ever pictured.

Scud mewled against you, head buried into your breasts and giving quick pecks or licks any time he wasn't being uncontrollably vocal. Daryl did the same, groaning into your shoulder and hair.

“Takin’ us so good, arentcha darlin’? So wet, pussy so tight,” Daryl hushed into your ear, hooking up faster and faster following each of his thrusts like the speed was on a multiplier.

You twisted fingers in the back of Scud's head, triggering a loud whine when you tugged on the roots of this hair and that metal choker he always wore. He started to waver, weakly humping you like his brain was fried and just focusing on staying as deep inside you as he could. “Mmm… mommy, I… ‘m so hungry. Please…” The hinges of his jaw started extending on their own, humid exhales dampening an area by your neck. Tasting hints of your blood earlier spawned a black hole that decimated the sinkhole he'd previously had caving in over time. In the near year he'd known you, that urge to just feed from your tender flesh was all he ever thought about. And now, warm walls of your cunt wrapped around him, urging him to another orgasm… He couldn't wait much longer, he was starving.

Daryl planted his feet to make up for Scud's faltering rhythm, the strengthful build of his hips and thighs making it easy to lift you. He was trying so hard to focus on just fucking you, but as the other vampire's imploring got the best of him, he started to follow suit. “Ya know yer'a damn tease, righ’ moonshine? Lookin’ so sexy all tha time, tha seductive scent ah yers… Fuck, I kno’ ya taste like heaven…” He craned his neck up, applying pressure to your carotid artery with his tongue, feeling everything he wanted pump through you at a rapid rate.

You took in a shaky breath, vivacity emanating from the both of them and encircling you. Their dicks throbbed inside of you, the drifter pistoning while the engineer hunched, but that just wasn't enough, and it made the craving so much more pressing. Their pairs of fangs rested on the edges of your skin, tracing over it, each on one side.

“Shit… just do it-.. Jus’ fuckin’ do,” You panted, and it happened so fast you barely even realized it. Scud's bite was eager, being more frantic and on your left: Daryl's more longing, savoring the feeling of piercing into your silky flesh on the right. They drew long siphons into their throats, sultry crimson flooding their systems as their eyes blazed a mutual color.

A strangled moan ripped from your being, your consciousness floating in a haze. Daryl fucked you faster, empowered by your smooth blood, grunting savagely as his razor-edged talons dug into your breasts, Scud's on your waist: but they were so careful to not rip you up.

“Mmmnngh… oh, gods momma, m’gonna cum…” Scud lost any last sense of his composure, curving his spine and slicking out of you to cum over your pelvis. He whimpered like an injured dog, anchoring himself with the teeth lodged in you, grinding against you a few times to ride out the bliss as he messied your body with lengthy ropes of white. Waves of body-wracking pleasure made him writhe around on your chest, lost in some other realm.

“Fuck… cum fer me again, dollface. Know yer good fer me,” Daryl mumbled against you, driving into your cunt with every newfound bit of liveliness he garnered from feeding on you. Your brain stopped working at this point – those red acrylic nails scratching at Daryl's thigh with your left, and Scud's back with your right.

You felt lightheaded, loss of ichor incapacitating you even as they'd ceased thirsting, just keeping fangs planted in your muscles. The crest of euphoria floated your soul to nirvana, Daryl's tip brushing past one specific golden point in your walls and shoving you off the cliff of your climax, tightening his hold on you as you bowed and bucked, vision stripped from your senses.

Your pussy spasmed and massaged around the southerner's cock, and with a final few abusing thrusts, he withdrew and spilled his own load over your folds, resistant moans rumbling from his vocal cords. All three of your chests heaved intensely, fighting to steal any oxygen from the lust-filled atmosphere of your bedroom.

Daryl's hands drifted to your midsection to push up and roll Scud off of you to the left, knowing he was too much of a fucked out mess to do it himself. He gently laid you between the two of them, smoothing a caring hand over your chest and pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Ya feelin’ okay, moonshine? Didn't take too much, righ’?”

“Yea, ‘m good.., jus’ need a minute,” You wheezed, eyes shut and soma trying to recuperate. Daryl peeled himself from the bed, going to wet a rag, and fetch some water and food. Returning, he compassionately cleaned away the cum smeared across your curves, supporting you as he helped you drink and all – then gathered extra layers of healing saliva over your puncture wounds just to make sure they'd seal over.

He soothed you by tracing patterns with his calloused palm, the three of you resting for a long while and wrapping thoughts around what just happened.

Scud snaked his arm around yours and cuddled right up against your side, keeping lips pressed against you with his whiny hums. “Wanna feel more'ah ya mommas…” To only say he was needy was an understatement, he was full on reliant – vampiric endurance adapting the role of an exponent for such.

“Let ‘er rest.”

You brought your nails to Scud's scalp, gently scratching his head and he practically began to purr. Even if Daryl shoved him off, you appreciated how benevolent he was to you, and could tell he felt less-than right now, lacking your focus. “That spit of yours work on swellin’ too?”

He nodded with a mumbly ‘Mhm…’

“Then how bout'cha lick my pussy till it feels better, ‘nd we'll keep goin’ till botha ya are ran dry, hm?” You suggested, planting a kiss on the top of his head and sensing the energy shift.

And they were both on you all over again in an instant.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[h0tb0x1nnac0ff1n]

Love Norman so much it’s becoming a problem😓

[norman-fucking-reedus]

I read something that you said Scud liked to be recorded and I’m actually foaming at the mouth at the idea of that because it’s so real. I NEED a fic for that. So glad I found someone with a Scud obsession as bad as mine

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION

THE GOOD GOOD: FemDom!Reader x Sub!Scud, recording during sex, lots of teasing, and edging, bit of bondage, your much needed dose of pegging, and scud crying during sex, don't forget the hair pulling

GUYS I LOVE SCUD SO MUCH I ABSOLUTELY ADORE HIM MY PRECIOUS LITTLE ANGEL

I'm really trying to get my drafts cleared out LOL hopefully sometime soon I'll have a big major posting spree and then I can start working on my inbox

I HAVE SO MANY REQUESTS AUUUGH IDK WHY I LET THEM ALL PILE UP SOMEONE KILL ME

The idea of Scud being recorded is still my favorite because I feel like he'd be so nervous under the lens, trying to hide from it and not be seen but he'd still end up looking like a slutty pornstar (my precious pornstar)

also scud in lace. its been on my mind for I don't even know how long at this point.

You sighed as you walked down your complex's dingy, dimly lit hallway, silently hoping that Scud wouldn't be too mad at you for coming home so late into the night. After all, you had told him that you would only be about ten more minutes, but that had been almost an hour ago.

Things got a little out of hand, nothing you couldn't deal with sure but it was quite an inconvenience. A short, fifteen-minute task had easily turned into a full job, one that included running around the shop looking for spare parts. With what you had learned from Blade and Scud, it didn't take long to find all the little pieces you needed, and even a reward for yourself.

"Scud! I'm back! Look at what was in the shop" You called out to him when you jingled your keys in the lock and swung the front door to your apartment open, eagerly kicking off your shoes as you toyed with the little camcorder you had come across, flipping through the random pictures on it. There was no clear indicator of who's camera exactly, but you had always loved photography, so just one day with it wouldn't hurt anyone.

There was no response to your voice, the apartment barely lit and quiet, soft thumping coming from you and Scud's shared bedroom. He was probably playing on his PS2 with his headphones in, loud music blasting at levels you’ve already scolded him for.

As you padded through the cozy living room, you pointed your camera at random things and took little cameos of them, making your way down the short and narrow hall towards the room where you could see some of the orange lighting spilling out through a crack in the door.

You approached, about to call out Scud’s name once again as the soft thumping faded into a rhythmic beat, a Lady Gaga track when you finally stopped short in front of the door, pushing it open a bit and poking your head through, combing hair out your eyes as your mind drew a blank, greedily taking in the sight in front of you.

Scud was in fact not playing on his game system, but rather prancing around the cozy room what he didn’t know was your very expensive lingerie set. An all-white, delicate full ‘angelic’ lingerie set. A satin ruffle top with a waist-high lace garter belt that clipped onto the white mesh fishnets, all paired with lacy underwear that had a large bow on the back, topped with a fair-sized opening that revealed a large portion of his dumb butt.

You had originally bought it to surprise your boyfriend a few months back, but you had both gotten so overcrowded with work that it slipped your mind, collecting a thin layer of dust somewhere you weren’t even sure where you had put it. Scud always got curious about your things when he was rocket-high, digging through things and asking a million and one questions. Now here he was, looking pretty as ever swaying his hips around in the bedroom, mumbling along to the current track playing.

You found yourself flipping the camcorder's small screen open and resting against the door frame as the device started to record, capturing Scud’s fluid movements as he obliviously danced around, brown curls falling sweetly in his face, and skin glowing orange from the multiple sources of warm light in the room.

He really did look like an angel, his broad body looking much more supple and soft, legs long and lean, hips wide and divine. A walking, talking piece of pure eye candy, reserved for your eyes and only your eyes. Guess this camera just found itself a new owner.

Scud spun around on his heels and toes, once, twice, before he stopped, eyes focusing on the small little red dot, flickering up to meet your gaze and feeling his entire exposed body heat up in embarrassment.

“W– Wha– How– How long– Hello– ” Scud sputtered, completely frozen in place as he stared at you.

You, who was now fully entering the bedroom, “Don’t stop now, I barely got any footage” placing your free hand on his small waist and dipping fingers under the fabric of the garter. A smile tugged your lips as you started taking in the entirety of your boyfriend's body up close, his skin soft and hot under the tips of your fingers. “Y– You’re re-recording me?” He knew the answer, but hearing it from you verbally just made a chill run down his spine, and his cock twitch.

“Does that make you nervous love?” Your fingers trailed up his scarred chest, brushing across the lose ruffled top and grazing his nipples, a small whine coming from Scud as he dipped down in order to hide his face, but you wouldn’t let him. “Look at me” You said as you lifted his head up by the chin, forcing his gaze onto yours.

Scud lightly whimpered, desire burning in his gut as you brushed hair out his face, fingers dancing along his skin. He felt exposed under the camera’s lens, so much of his raw and bare skin visible to the naked eye. Your gaze on his body made his cock throb.

“What do I always tell you about playing in my stuff?” You said in a condescending tone, teasing the tips of your fingers down his textured belly.

Scud shivered at your touch as goosebumps prickled his skin, a strained grunt coming from him as his face flushed. “N– not without mommy’s permission”

You slowly walk around him, taking in his full body in the set. “Don’t touch mommy’s things without permission. That’s a rule, right?” You murmur as you stop recording to take a picture of Scud’s ass, definitely filling out the panties better than you could.

“Yes…” He mumbles, and it almost comes out like a squeak. His cock aching with need and his stomach with embarrassment, heart pounding from a combination of nerves and weed.

You brush your lips against the skin of his shoulder, slipping fingers under the waistline of the lace undies. “So can you explain to me why said rule is broken?”

A whimper broke past Scud's lips as your fingers teased and explored his exposed skin, squeezing his hips and tracing scars. "I just– I just found it under the bed and didn't know what it was" Scud stumbled out, heart thumping in his chest as your hands covered more ground on his body, circling around to his back.

"Mhm?" You hummed, tracing your finger up his spine. He let out a moan as chills ran through his core, trembling under your touch as he could feel goosebumps explode across his skin. "Well, do you know what it is now?"

Scud nodded frantically at your words, "Yes! Yes– I know now" quivering as he spoke.

With one hand on his waist, the other still holding the camera, you guided him to the edge of the bed and pushed his upper half down onto the mattress, smiling softly to yourself as you eyed Scud's new position through the lens.

Click! Click!

The electric snap of the camera made Scud feel fuzzy and warm, slightly embarrassed, and very exposed. His skin was flushed a light red, some areas more blushed than the others. From where his cock was confined in the small panties, he was completely pulsing, throbbing with pure need in his gut.

"Do you also know not to break the rules?" You questioned, flipping through the few shots you had taken before moving your attention to the small walk-in closet, crouching down and reaching inside a box.

Scud whined into the soft comforter when you returned behind him, his socked feet barely reaching the rug between them. He could hear the small beep of the camera as you pressed your front to his bottom, a yelp coming from him when your palm made contact with his exposed cheek. "I asked, so answer"

"Y– Yes! Not breaking the rules is a rule" He whimpered, a shudder running through him as his skin tingled.

You smiled at his words as you caressed his side, squeezing his waist and hip slightly. "Good. Very good. So don't you think you deserve a punishment?"

Scud didn't respond, but he nodded his head, hiding his face the best he could behind his hair. You pushed the strands back and cooed at his cherry-red face, tiny whines coming from him as he squirmed under the camera's lens, jerking his hips slightly as he rutted against the edge of the bed.

Your hand made contact with his cheek again, a choked-off groan coming from his throat at your palm. "Words."

"Y– yes ma– ma'am..." He stuttered, trembling slightly with anticipation. It wasn't often that Scud got punished, even with as bratty as he was, so his cock was totally aching just thinking about whatever vile shit it was you were thinking about doing to him.

And you were thinking of doing some quite horrid things.

Teasingly, you ran your hand over the opening in his panties, prodding your finger at his puffy rim. A suppressed shudder traveled through him as his cock twitched, his hole fluttering at your air-light touch. You softly cooed at how needy he was, smiling to yourself as you single-handedly took off your shirt and tossed it on the floor somewhere to be picked up later.

From the box in your closet, you had pulled your strap set, a pair of cuffs, and a long vibrator that you had been wanting to test out for a little while.

Cuffing Scud's hands behind his back with only five fingers was a bit of a challenge, but an easy one. He squirmed a little as you did it, wiggling his fingers as his wrists adjusted to the new sensation of the cuffs.

You shuffled around behind him, cursing softly as you knocked a few things over before tossing a bottle of lube along with the rest of your toys, pressing yourself against Scud as you leaned down near his ear, breath feather-light and hair tickling his skin. His heart pounded in his chest, and you could hear his pulse in his neck thumping.

“Just how should I punish you?” You murmur, trailing your lips against his ear lobe and teasing the skin with the very tip of your tongue.

“Maybe I should spank you ‘til it hurts to sit,” You run your free hand down to his ass and give it a slap for emphasis, followed by a squeeze just cause.

“Or maybe I could tie up those cute balls and see just how long it takes for you to pop” You hum, nibbling on Scud’s ear and tugging it with your teeth until you dropped it with an idea lingering in mind.

“Or," You said as you pulled away from him. "I could just leave you here by yourself” You smirked, watching Scud’s face twist in horror.

“No! No– please no” He pleaded as he squirmed on the bed, hips jerking in a desperate search for relief, cock painfully hard and throbbing. “Need a punishment, need mommy to punish me” Scud blabbed, his body trembling as his eyes darted from your face to the camera's lens, his body coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

“But how should I punish you?” You teasingly coo, combing some of a Scud’s bangs out one of his eyes as you smiled softly at him. “I could smoke our whole stash right in your face”

Scud groaned, “Please don’t” squeezing his legs as arousal burned hot in his gut. “I’m really sorry mommy, I– I’ll do anything”

“Oh, I know you will. Just stay still for me ‘kay?” You pushed yourself back up to your full height, pausing your recording to swap out the camera for the bottle of lube, shaking it slightly before uncapping it and squeezing out more than enough of the clear liquid onto Scud's puffy rim, watching the shiver that ran through him as the cold sensation rolled down to his sensitive balls.

You scooped it up with your two fingers and easily slid them inside Scud, a soft moan coming from him as he clenched around you, almost instantly pushing back in search of more. "Such a greedy little hole, you just wanna be fucked so badly don't you?"

Scud whined and squeezed his slick walls around your digits, "Yes! Want mommy to fill me up so bad, need her so bad" rubbing his face against the soft comforter as he could feel it burning hot.

"Don't worry baby boy, we're gonna get you all nice 'nd full right now" You spoke sweetly to him as you picked up the camera with one hand and the vibrator with the other, resuming your recording as the toy harshly rumbled to life after the click of a button. Without wasting a second, you watched as the buzzing wand glided into Scud with zero resistance, pressing it directly against his sweet spot and causing him to loudly sputter, blabble, and cry out nonsense as the sudden vibration traveled through his entire nervous system, cock throbbing with the uncontrollable urge to cum.

Scud sobbed around his loud moans, choking out gasps when you started to quickly thrust the toy in and out, each hard bump to his now very sensitive prostrate only sent him closer to the edge, hands twitching and pulling where they were restrained as his body spasmed, heaving as his heart started to pound in his chest the harder and harder you fucked him, hips jerking down into the mattress as he tried to pathetically chase his rapidly building orgasm, a burning pleasure coursing through the entirety of his body before–

You swiftly pulled the toy out of him right as he was about to topple over the edge, a confused, strangled whimper tearing from his throat as his poor hole needily clenched around nothing, so full and pleased just a split second ago and now suddenly empty and crashing down from the way you abruptly ruined his orgasm.

“Sorry, my hand slipped” You mumbled, obviously not sorry at all as you teased his fluttering hole with the toy, capturing all your torturous movements through the little camera lens.

The cuffs rattled as Scud whined and squirmed at the contact against his sensitive skin, trying his hardest to push back onto the vibrator while also jerking his hips away from it. He was so high, so hot and sweaty as he heaved from where he was on the bed, shaking as you tauntingly dragged the toy up from his slick balls to his drenched rim, only ever applying the slightest amount of pressure.

It made him push his hips back in desperation, letting out a surprised yelp when you smacked him with the toy, tutting your lips as you shook your head, placing the camera down and positioning it to capture Scud's hidden face, forcing his head up by roughly yanking a fistful of hair.

He whined as a shiver ran down his spine, trembling as his eyes nervously darted away from the lens, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being recorded in such an exposed state. His cock was still painfully aching, whole body throbbing uncontrollably from your early treatment.

Scud made tiny little whimpers when you started to tease his hole again with the toy, his hips twitching as he tried not to jerk them back, desperate and craving to be filled up again. His gut ached with arousal, cock leaking painfully where it was confined in the small panties.

"P– Please fuck me, please mommy" He begged as you dipped your head down and started nibbling at his bare shoulder, teasing the skin of his hip with your fingers.

You blew on his ear as you ran the length of the vibrator up his slick crack, a keen noise pulling out his throat as his hole fluttered in anticipation. "Is this what you want pretty boy? To be stuffed like a dumb slut?"

Scud whined at your words, nodding his head and hiding his face shyly behind his hair, jumping slightly when you tightly gripped his jaw, lifting his head once more and dropping it to pick up your camera.

"You're so cute when you're nervous" You said to him as you smooshed your cheek against his, pointing the lens at the both of you and snapping a few pictures, Scud's face red and embarrassed as the flash flickered, electric shutter ringing in his ears.

Scud huffed slightly as his socked toes brushed the rug beneath him, kicking his feet impatiently as need and heat burned through his veins. He whined softly when you pulled away from him entirely, leaving the camcorder pointed at him to capture his facial expressions when you suddenly shoved the entirety of the vibrator back into him, a loud and shaky moan tearing from Scud's throat as the toy easily slid into him, almost yelling when it buzzed to life against his sensitive walls.

His hands curled into one another where his arms were stretched behind his back, yet immediately scrambled to wrap around your wrist when you trailed fingers up his spine, his fingers twitching and trembling as they latched onto you, incoherent mumbles leaving Scud's lips.

As you started to properly fuck him with the toy, quickly thrusting it in and out as he tensed up at the sensation, shuddering as his jaw went slack and he started to desperately yet sloppy push back against your movements, toes curling into the carpet as you shoved the vibrator right into his sweet spot, stars dancing in his eyes and coursing through his body.

"I bet that feels so good huh pretty boy? Gonna cum aren't you?" You taunted as you fucked him quicker with the silicone toy, watching the way he had started to twitch and squirm, his whimpers and cries starting to increase in volume. Scud tried to respond to your questions, but his words only came out as a garbled mess.

It earned a small laugh from you, pressing yourself up against him and dipping your head down to attack his neck, running your tongue over his pulse, and feeling his heart race under the muscle. "Didn't quite catch that" You murmured into his ear, slowing down your movements as you searched for Scud's sweet spot, a broken sob tearing from his lips when you found it. "Yes," He gasped, trembling underneath you as he heaved for air, clumsily stuttering out his words. "Wanna cum so bad, want mommy to make me cum"

Scud tugged and pulled at his restraints as he choked back cries, clumsily pushing back against your movements desperately as he chased after his rapidly building orgasm, babbling brainlessly. He could feel the buzzing sensation in his toes, all the way up to his teeth, it made his head foggy and his jaw go slack, not sure if the high he was greedily riding was from the weed or sheer pleasure, but it had him on cloud nine either way.

Each thrust brought him closer and closer, so close he could practically taste it. A needy, broken whimper came from his chest as his body twitched against you, small pleas starting to fall from his lips as his untouched cock throbbed from his burning climax, lungs running out of air as his body started to tense up, standing right on the edge and about to fall down face first when you yanked the toy right out of him again, Scud whining and basically sobbing in protest as his hole uncontrollably clenched down around nothing, heavy groans leaving him as his body struggled to recover from the way you completely denied him again.

"Oh Please, please mommy, please" Scud sobbed as his body felt so empty and used, desperately craving the relief that he needed so badly.

You shut the toy off and tossed it down on the bed, taking hold of the camcorder and stopping your recording, snapping a few pictures of how utterly destroyed Scud was, face soaked with his tears and drool as he weakly rutted his hips in search of any type of pleasure. He whimpered softly at the flash of light, feeling exposed and nude under the lens.

"It's okay Scud, you've been doing so well for me. Momma's gonna make you feel so good" You murmured comfortingly into his ears as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, pushing your body up off his and leaving the camera on the bed. Scud still whined out in protest as your body heat left his, leaving him cold and lonely. His heart started to soar and quickly pick up speed when he heard the familiar sound of your strap buckling together, small mutters and curses coming from you as there was a slight struggle.

It wasn't long before you reappeared behind Scud, this time pressing your cock against him. Anticipation sparked to life in his tummy as you dragged the silicone through his slick, unable to help himself from pushing back against you with tiny little sounds. He needed it so bad that his body was practically begging for release, involuntarily twitching.

Scud was so close to an absolute breakdown, whimpering and mumbling incoherently as you finally started to push in at a tauntingly slow pace, the lube helping to make it an easy glide and blissful stretch. His head dropped down onto the mattress as sparks flew up his spine, so understimulated that even the slightest of touch would probably send him tipping over the edge.

You readjusted your camcorder with one hand and the tightly tangled the other in his hair, yanking his head back up to be captured in the lens, giggling at the groan that left Scud’s lips. “Come on pretty boy, keep your head up for momma”

“Need– Need it–“ Scud started to babble, head totally clouded and overworked as he desperately jerked his hips, rocking them back and forth to get any type of stimulation at all, trembling like a leaf on a branch when he felt the tip of your strap finally, finally jab right into his tender and used sweet spot, knees buckling between him as he involuntarily squeezed your wrist tightly, nails digging into the flesh as the orgasm his body had been begging for completely took over, loud and broken sobs leaving Scud’s lips as his untouched cock throbbed and pulsated, cumming right in the lace panties of the lingerie set.

The fact that you captured that on camera almost made your mouth water, and you cooed at Scud when he went ragdoll in your hold, stroking his side to give him some comfort as he slowly came back down to earth. “Oh, you poor little thing. Did I tease too much?”

Scud could barely even muster out words, breathing into the mattress as his body twitched, small grunts and whimpers coming from him your hand in his hair kept his head upright and his face vulnerable, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.

“Or, did I not tease you enough?” You murmured the question softly in his ear, moving to grab a fist full of hair from the front and gripping his cuffed wrists, yanking both backward as you took a step forward to shove the entirety of your cock into Scud, who could almost taste the pleasure coursing through him. A choked sob tore itself from his throat, eyes darting frantically between the wall and camera lens as it felt like pure heaven burned it’s way up his spine, hands twitching and curling in on themselves under your grip.

It was arguably the best he’s ever felt in days, weeks even. When you started to relentlessly and mercilessly slam into him, each thrust going right to his core and sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head, lips glossy and slick with spit as he drooled from the mouthwatering pleasure.

“You’re just so, so cute Scud. I can’t wait to watch our little movie over and over and over again” You said as you tilted his head to the side by his hair, biting down harshly on the flesh of his already bruised and marked neck, a shriek pulling its way out his chest as all five of his senses were at a complete overload, skin flushing a deep red when he felt your teeth blissfully break skin. It was all so overwhelming, the wet glide of your cock slipping in and out against his tender velvety walls was simply too much for his mind to be able to comprehend, hips jerking as his second orgasm built up rapidly, like a can of soda that had been shaken up and was just waiting for someone to pop the tap.

He heard the sound of the cuffs clicking off before he felt the fuzzy material sliding off his wrists, your hands finding his and intertwining your fingers together, pinning his hands down on the mattress to fuck him with all the womanly strength left in you, sending the silicone as deep and hard into your angelic boyfriend as your body would possibly allow for. Scud’s head involuntarily dropped right down onto the blankets, whimpers and broken moans tumbling past his lips as he tightly squeezed your fingers, so close to the edge that this time he really could taste it.

“Please momma, please, please– fuuck, please” Scud helplessly babbled, needily pushing back to meet your thrusts as he was so fucking close, so close that he’d almost do anything just to cum, not that there was much to do considering he was already crashing down the hill, just needing a few more rough thrusts of your hips before his tap was finally popped, an explosion of fizzy stickiness exploding right in his gut, his second orgasm spilling right into the already soiled underwear, seeping through and dripping down onto the floor.

Scud went totally limp where he laid face down on the bed, breathing heavily as he twitched and tried to come down from such an earth shattering high, whining softly when you pulled out.

Tiny kisses were planted all over his face, neck, and shoulders, you gently brushing his hair out his face and unsticking it from his sweaty forehead. “You okay?”

Scud nodded, with his eyes half-lidded and a content smile tugging at his lips. “Mhmm”

“Did you learn your lesson?” You asked, pulling the bra strap and letting it snap against Scud’s flesh, a small grunt leaving him as his skin burned. “Yes ma’am…” He grumbled out, feet dangling off the bed.

You smiled softly, kissing him right below his eye. “Good baby. Now let’s get you all squeaky clean and cozy for bed, then we can find a way to put our special show on the TV for only our eyes to see” You said with a hint of mischief in your tone, reaching for the camcorder and stopping your recording once and for all.

Whoa. Did Norman fucking reedus just fucking finish something. Did Normam fucking reedus just post something. Whoa. How crazy even is that.

ANYWAYS 😝 yes guys I still love Scud he's still my angel boy and be always will be I love the part of the fic where my peenar goes inside his body thats the best part hands down I love to fuck men with my lady peenar

One fic at a time guys 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I have a few others that eeerm should get posted soon… dont get your hopes up (because mine are already up and that's a problem)

IF YOU SEE TYPOS NO UOU DONNNT 😭 MY GRAMMARLY IS ON MY COMPUTER AND THE APP IS GARBAGE ON MY PHONE PLEASE STOP THIS MADNESS

I was gonna end this with the cam corder MaGiCaLlYy disappearing 👁️ but that's for another fic 🙂‍↕️ (that ill end up never writing)

[dix0nvix3n]

Would you guys be able to send me any thoughts you have about Daryl in my asks? Just any thoughts you have about him that I could turn into blurbs or potential full fics. I think I have 5 wips of actual fics I haven't touched in a while, I legit just can't finish anything. It takes me so long to write and I also have my series I want to write but I wanna be able to get more content out and share my ideas and just blurbs and drabbles are so much easier for right now. (Send Scud thoughts as well teehee)

[blurredcolour]

The Last To Know | Part One

The Last To Know Masterlist

John Brady x Pilot!Female Reader

The 100th Bomb Group comes together for the first time with all five squadrons in Walla Walla, Washington. Naturally, not everyone will get along, but after you and Brady get off on the wrong foot, every subsequent encounter only seems to solidify your dislike of the man.

Warnings: MAJOR Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Original Characters, Era Typical Sexism/Misogyny, Attempted Groping, Canon Typical Violence, Language, Enemies to Lovers, Weapons of War, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: This story contains an alternate universe where women have been allowed to fly in combat with the USAAF - in a very limited experiment. Brief references to Reader's family and backstory. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 5278

-------------------------

November 1942

You should have known better than to expect anything different, even out here on the nascent base of Walla Walla, Washington, the buildings still reeking of sawdust, their rough pine construction hardly weathered in the five months they had existed.

“…there won’t be any burial costs because, those broads’ll just drive themselves straight into the ground.” The snide comment, unoriginal in any way, flew from the proudly twisted lips of a tall brunette holding court at the corner of the operations building.

His cheek bones were sharp and angled like the beak of a bird of prey and you were careful to study his face, and the faces of those men gathered around him, laughing richly or listening attentively as, encouraged by their reactions, he continued to spew his misogyny, yet to spot your approach. Each face would have a name to assign to it soon enough, and you would be certain to spread the word amongst your crew that they were not to be trusted. Not the rickety blond of middling height with his head thrown back in bright laughter, nor the broadly built man with jet black hair, and bushy mustache to match, who was slapping the speaker on his shoulder. Not even the slightly shorter brunette with a pipe clenched between two rows of perfect teeth, expression somewhat difficult to decipher – it may have been amusement or a grimace, but he was definitely not walking away or speaking up.

“You seem to have stalled, Lieutenant.” The unmistakable Texan accent of Gertrude Thornton sounded at your right elbow, and you turned quickly to salute her.

“Ma’am, just taking in the sights.”

She smirked slowly, returning the snap of her fingers to her brow, the weak grey light of the cloudy day still highlighting the silver First Lieutenant’s insignia on her shoulders, a bright contrast to the gold Second Lieutenant’s bar on yours.

“The sea of mud and fir trees, or our reluctant comrades of the 100th?” Proceeding toward the ops building, and thus the group, without hesitation, you were forced to match her stride to continue your conversation.

Dark clouds, heavy with rain, scudded across the sky, promising this dry window would be brief. It came as no surprise when the collection of Second Lieutenants neglected to salute her, gawking instead as the pair of you brushed past them towards the door.

“Holy shit, that’s The Thorn.”

It was a good thing your back was now firmly to them, the eyeroll that overtook your features nothing short of inescapably exaggerated.

A pioneer of women’s aviation, Thornton was the only reason you, and the rest of the 280th Bomber Squadron, were training to serve in combat with the United States Army Air Forces. Dubbed ‘The Thorn in Congress’s Side’ by the media, courtesy of her incessant campaigning for a female’s right to fly alongside her male comrades, most just called her ‘The Thorn.’

To the two dozen of you who’d had the privilege of training alongside her in Randolph Field, Texas, earning your USAAF pilot’s wings, she was your champion and unquestioned leader. Even if they had assigned a man to lead your squadron.

“Has Dutch emerged with those crew lists yet?” Thornton’s question made you shake your head quickly, carefully navigating along the mud-slickened boards laid down to combat the ever-present muck below.

You were grateful for the boots and loose-fitting trousers of your training uniform, your skirted Class As safely tucked away in the bottom of your footlocker.

“No ma’am, I have not seen him yet.” You replied, looking up sharply hearing a chorus of raucous laughter sound as all six feet of the freckled, red-headed Dutch – Captain Leroy Barrett – spilled out of the ops building alongside a dark-haired, mustachioed version of himself. A rather stoic blonde officer, toothpick pursed between his full lips, followed behind, holding a promising stack of papers.

“Ah! Thornton!” Dutch hollered, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes as he turned towards the pair of you.

Throwing up a pair of simultaneous salutes, which the still-giggling men casually returned while their comrade did a more precise job, Thornton cleared her throat.

“Any success with the crew assignments, sir?”

“Yes, in fact, Buck would you be so kind?”

“John Egan.” The dark-hair Captain quickly thrusted out his hand as ‘Buck’ sorted through his papers, and Thornton shook it firmly. “I’m a real fan, Ma’am. It’s a pleasure to be flying with your squad.”

“Likewise, Captain.” She nodded, offering your name in introduction.

You offered a polite smile and firm nod as you shook Egan’s broad hand.

“You and your ladies ever need anything, don’t hesitate to come to me or Buck…including if your CO proves useless.” His grin was nothing but trouble, alarm bells immediately sounding in your head, but all the same something about him instilled a deep sense of trust.

“Gale Cleven.” Buck spoke up once he set a smaller sheaf of papers in Dutch’s hands, his grip not quite as firm as Egan’s but just as warm. “And Bucky’s all bluster. We’ve known Dutch since we were just cadets and either of us would trust him with our life any day.”

“A ringing endorsement.” Thornton grinned and took the stack of crew assignments from Dutch. “I’ll see to it that these are handed out amongst the squad, thank you very much, gentlemen.”

Parting salutes exchanged, the pair of you turned to head back to the women’s quarters. Glancing back over your shoulder, you were startled to meet the light blue eyes of the silent brunette, gaze flicking to his mouth as he parted his lips to pull the stem of his pipe free.

Egan’s voice suddenly echoed across the clearing, each man raising his head in turn as his name was called.

“Friedkin! Pratt! Larkin! Brady! You boys looking for something to do?”

Four names, four faces. Four men to avoid.

The barracks of the 280th squadron were five long, squat, wooden buildings relegated to an out-of-the-way corner of the camp, one set of showers and latrines for the entire population of one hundred women. By the time you and Thornton returned to dole out the crew lists amongst the pilots, your boots were slick with mud that splashed up your trousers – a far cry from the red dust of Texas, and a clear indication of what the greatest enemy to cleanliness would be here.

“Lieutenant.” Thorton turned to hand you a list with your very own name at the top, a thrill unfurling through your abdomen not unlike that which you had felt when she had first appeared along the fence-line of your father’s farm looking for the local crop duster who was unrivalled in her accuracy.

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Oh don’t thank me, I just spoke the truth when Dutch asked me who I thought could manage it.” She winked one of her striking hazel eyes easily before proceeding into the officer’s quarters, calling out the rest of the pilot’s names.

The odds of making it here in the first place had been long, of even getting into a cockpit even longer if it had not been for your uncle’s early diagnosis of glaucoma and willingness to make you the successor to his business. You had never even dared to hope to be named as Pilot of one of the ten crews of the 280th – Co-pilot would have been more than tolerable. But you were undeniably delighted by this outcome.

Refocusing on the paper in your hands, you scanned down the other nine names on the list.

Co-Pilot: 2nd Lt. Andromeda Giannopoulos

Bombardier: 2nd Lt. Barbara Jones

Navigator: 2nd Lt. Regina Wilson

Flight Engineer: S/Sgt. Inez Veiga

Radio Operator: S/Sgt. Mildred Gaige

Ball Turret Gunner: S/Sgt. Minnie Jacobsen

Waist Gunner: S/Sgt. Dorothea Fletcher

Waist Gunner: S/Sgt. Velma Schroeder

Tail Gunner: S/Sgt. Juanita Torres

The name of your Co-pilot tugged a smile onto the corner of your mouth. Andie, as she had firmly introduced herself to you at basic training, had made you swear to never use her full name upon pain of death when you had accidentally come across some correspondence from her father – a first-generation sea sponge fisherman who had moved from Greece to settle in Tarpon Springs, Florida.

At least her secret remained safe with you.

The other eight women, most enlisted, would have trained at their various technical schools scattered across the continental United States and were thus unknown to you. For now. A few generous drops of rain splattered down onto the page, making you frown and quickly tuck it into your jacket pocket as you darted inside. Scraping the mud from your boots, you tucked your service cap beneath your arm and moved to find your cockpit mate, but suddenly found your path blocked by all five feet four inches of your closest friend, Constance Hart.

“Thornton didn’t call your name, but no one has you on a list.” She tilted her head, untameable mane of blonde curls swaying as she cracked her gum sharply between her molars. “I mean if you need a ride, you can always fly with me but…”

You watched her warm brown eyes narrow in suspicion as you began fishing around in your pocket before they shot wide upon your retrieval of your crew list.

“Hon, I knew it! I knew they wouldn’t just give us nine crews.”

The fierceness with which she pulled you into a hug drove home how very accurate Andie’s bestowal of the nickname ‘Lionheart’ on the petite woman really had been. In fact Andie was responsible for at least half of the nicknames amongst those of you with wings pinned on your uniforms and you fully expected that trend to continue with the enlisted girls as well.

“Well done to you, too, Lionheart. Though I do beg for mercy on your crew.” You pulled back with a smirk of affection, earning a loving whap on your shoulder as she giggled.

“You’re one to talk, try not to terrify them on the first day, hmmm?”

“If you’re going out there, take a raincoat.” You nodded as Lionheart moved towards the door and she waved back in thanks before you continued on in your search for your Co-pilot.

You found her tidying her rack, tightening the corners on her sheets with barely concealed aggression, and you swallowed in empathy. Andie had arrived at Randolph Field with only a few months of flying under her belt – had not even earned her civilian wings yet. Not at all unheard of for the men squawking about outside, but for this experimental squadron, Thornton had traversed the country to find women with experience who also met the strict USAAF age and physical requirements. She was green, young. If the hundred of you could make this a success, she would surely have her own plane before long.

“Hey there, Andie.” You spoke softly, watching her face snap up from her one-sided battle with her bedding, her gorgeous Mediterranean features making you feel extraordinarily plain as always.

“Well–” She let out a tremendous exhale and sat down heavily onto her cot, swiftly undoing all her hard work in one motion as the sheets wrenched from their corners. “– guess if it’s with you, it won’t be quite so terrible.”

Huffing a soft laugh, you nodded. “Look forward to flying with you too. What say you we go invade the rest of the barracks and find our crew?”

A small smile twitched onto her lips, a tiny spark that quickly grew into a blaze. Andie’s hand shot up, her fingers beckoning demandingly.

“Let me see that list.” She eyed you expectantly, a devious edge to her grin and you slowly surrendered it, watching her peruse the names rapidly. “Plenty to work with here…. Barbara? Crying out for a proper moniker, that one.”

Pleased she seemed to have found some satisfaction in plotting their nicknames, you watched her rise to her feet, walking towards the door together with your raincoats. Securing the cumbersome olive drab fabric around your bodies, naturally, brought the rain to a halt and you sighed deeply, shaking your head as you walked along the slick boards to the next building.

Two eager faces lifted from where they sat on the ends of their racks, the rest of the building already emptied as the other crews seemed to have collected their Navigators and Bombardiers. Glancing over Andie’s shoulder to confirm the names, you looked back to the hopeful women.

“Jones and Wilson?”

The speed with which they shot to their feet was nothing short of endearing and you nodded to them softly, offering your name. “Pilot. This is Andie, Co-pilot.”

“Nice to meet you, Babs.” She grabbed the hand of the willowy brunette Bombardier, shaking it firmly before turning to the Navigator with glossy dark hair and an hour-glass figure. “Gina.”

The women exchanged a curious glance and you shrugged softly. “Most of us have found it easier not to fight it, only seems to make her more determined. We’re just on our way to find the rest of our crew, care to join us?”

“Oh absolutely.” Babs gushed enthusiastically as Gina nodded with a polite “Yes, please.”

Your duo growing to a quartet, you thus moved onward, heading for the furthest of the barracks buildings. There you located the shortest member of your crew, Minnie Jacobsen, whom Andie gleefully dubbed ‘Mouse.’ It was had to deny how clever that particular one was. The pair of waist gunners, Schroeder and Fletcher – nicknames to come, apparently, were picked up in the fourth building. There you also found Torres, the tail gunner, who introduced herself as Nita, clearly in no need of Andie’s assistance.

The last two members of your crew were located in the barracks situated dead centre in the row, Flight Engineer Inez Veiga – thenceforth to be known as Ivy thanks to the amusing phonetics of her initials and Radio Operator Mildred Gaige – a simple Millie. Finding yourselves collected for the first time in an empty building, with its neatly spaced rows of beds and footlockers, cast iron woodstoves at either end for heat, you looked them all over slowly, feeling the gravity of this moment.

Their expectant faces turned to you, driving home how much they would rely upon you for direction throughout this endeavor.

“Ladies,” You nodded firmly, clearing your throat to steal a moment to pluck up your courage. “We have the opportunity to prove to our country, to the entire world, that a woman’s place can be in combat same as any man. To succeed, we have to fly faster, find our targets with more accuracy, and eliminate all threats to our squad without hesitation. Where they are satisfactory, we must be excellent, understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Came a chorus of sharp replies, though several sets of eyes betrayed the nerves lurking beneath and Lionheart’s warning against intimidation whispered back through your brain.

“The Army Air Forces have trained each of you in your role, you have proven yourself, earned those badges on your chests. I have every faith that we will make the finest crew they have ever seen.”

The smiles that earned brought a flutter of relief to your gut, solidified by Andie’s nod, before the sound of your name had everyone turning towards the door to see Ruby Keever eyeing you expectantly.

“Thornton is gathering the 280th in one of the classrooms, bring your crew.” She nodded firmly, ordering you as though she was not the same rank as you, before slipping back out into the once-again driving rain.

“Good ol’ Keener.” Andie chortled, earning more than a few laughs from her new audience.

“One of these days, Andie, I’m going to accidentally call her that to her face.” You huffed and affixed your cap onto your head before covering it with your hood, leading your crew out into the ugly weather.

After the excitement of crew assignments, the afternoon of lectures on decorum and the importance of the 280th as female ambassadors into the male-dominated world of combat was a stark change of pace. Having spent months in Thornton’s periphery, absorbing every bit of knowledge she saw fit to impart in your presence, not much of it was new, but she was a passionate speaker. And while some of it was tough medicine – fraternization discouraged, becoming ‘in the family way’ meaning immediate discharge, remaining civil and lady-like no matter what conditions were thrust upon you all – she still found a way to engage with each of the women gathered before her from all different walks of life.

“In four minutes I will be releasing you to enjoy your first meal in the mess. The enlisted women share their mess with men of the same rank while us officers are in a separate mess with those of our rank. I am not sure how things were handled at your various technical schools, but I recommend entering in groups, ensuring your lead and tail person are on alert for any…unwarranted attention.”

How things went in the mess had varied wildly in your experience. At first, it had been akin to running a gauntlet, swatting and dodging hands, procuring your food from the chow line to then retreat to the safety of assigned tables. Once the novelty of the female pilots had worn off, so too had the unwanted attention. It was honestly a matter of training your male colleagues. Desensitizing them.

“Tomorrow, weather permitting, we will begin training flights. To my knowledge, there are only fifteen B-17s on base at present, so there will be a rota drawn up that is fair to all squadrons. Those not flying will have classroom instruction or base duties. That is all for today ladies, thank you kindly for your attention.”

Smothering your disappointment at the typical Army lack of equipment, you parted ways with the enlisted women in your crew, watching fondly as they walked off in a tight group towards the mess.

“Lieutenant.” Thornton’s voice startled you for the second time that day and you bit back a curse at how inept you surely appeared as you saluted her. “Would you mind being our mess tail this evening?”

“Not at all, Ma’am.” You nodded, watching the officers flock toward her, patiently waving them ahead of you, including Lionheart who winked at you.

“You watching my rear?”

Rolling your eyes you shuffled after her along the somewhat drier boards, sliding your hands into your pockets for a modicum of warmth against the cool breeze that had picked up. “Safe with me, Lionheart.” You muttered, half in jest, half in earnest.

“’preciate it you know.” She giggled, stepping into the humid, bustling officer’s mess.

It was already packed, the men nearly all seated and tucked in, though all eyes were now raised to focus on your group. Stopping to pull the door shut against the wind, you were two steps behind Lionheart when you spotted the encroaching hand of some unknown Lieutenant, reaching to grab a handful of her rear end where she stood waiting in line.

Lurching forward to seize his wrist in an excessively tight grip, you turned to meet his dull brown eyes, wide as saucers.

“You’d be wise to keep your hands to yourself, Lieutenant.” You muttered coldly, tightening your hand about his wrist for emphasis before dropping it carelessly.

Turning your back to him, you met your friend’s startled face and offered her a wink. “Safe with me.” You whispered, pressing your lips together as she barely contained her giggles, quickly moving forward to close the gap with the end of the line.

“Cuddly as a cactus, that one.” The bitter voice of the would-be groper was almost inaudible over the general din of the room.

“Honestly, pal, you’re lucky she didn’t box your ears. Woulda deserved it, too; tryna to play grab ass with a lady you don’t know.” The scolding, delivered in a brash New York accent, almost made you look over your shoulder fondly. Somehow you resisted the urge.

Slowly undoing the snaps of your raincoat against the warmth of room, you looked to the side as it felt like someone was watching you. While you were aware more than several someones were, this gaze was somehow particularly aggravating…Meeting the blue eyes of that Brady from before, though he held a spoon between his lips this time rather than a pipe, his was expression just as indiscernible.

Lips hardening into a thin line, you firmly looked away, focusing intently on the way Lionheart’s hair had yet again escaped its pins to brush against the collar of her raincoat.

“You need to fix that mane before Thornton gives you a uniform violation.”

She sighed dramatically, twisting the errant locks up and ruthlessly shoving a few spare pins in to hold it. “Thinking of shaving it all off, what do you think she’d say then.”

“She’d probably have a stroke, I think.” You smirked and shuffled forward to grab two trays, handing her one once her hands were free.

“It would just be so much simpler though, wouldn’t it? I envy their haircuts, I do.” She muttered, collecting her mashed potatoes, thick stew, and pudding of a questionable consistency.

“Twice as many girls envy your hair.” You assured her. “Maybe you should start braiding it instead of using pins.”

Lionheart glanced back at you, eyes bright with the idea. “Say that’s a swell thought, wanna help me out with that tonight?”

“Sure, just keep your eyes front on the way to your seat, would ya?”

Settling into the crowded table, you allowed the conversation of the surrounding women to flow over you as you ate, suddenly realizing just how hungry you were. Despite the occasional lump, and the fact that it had not quite set, the pudding was a nice treat, a pleasant way to finish the meal before you all headed back to barracks to battle back the mud that had been tracked in throughout the day. Once your boots were polished to gleaming and set at the end of your bed, you worked with Lionheart to devise two braids to contain her hair that could then be pinned up off her collar.

Sliding, at last, beneath the rough sheets, the cumulative effort of the day allowed you to overlook the inconsistent construction of your mattress, sleep coming quickly.

The first morning of one hundred women attempting to prepare for the day using one shower house and one set of latrines was admittedly less than smooth, your eyes meeting Thornton’s several times in the midst of the uncontrolled chaos until she eventually had to send half the girls back to their barracks to finish their hair and makeup without mirrors.

“Keever, I need you to make a shower schedule. Half in the evening, half in the morning. Ten-minute intervals or we’ll never be on time.” She turned to her incessant shadow who was already bobbing her head eagerly and jotting down notes on a small notepad you had not even seen her procure.

Restricting yourself to brushing your teeth and a simple refresh in the sink, you returned to barracks to tidy your hair and dress for the day. You even had time to spare to help Lionheart with her new hairdo, which earned an approving nod from Thornton in the breakfast line.

As you were eating your cloyingly thick powdered eggs and toast, a ripple of groans began to echo across the room. Raising your head, you noticed stacks of papers were being passed around, reaching the ladies tables last. Scanning your eyes over the schedule for the next five days, you were pleased to see that the 280th was going to be flying that very afternoon – you could only assume the groans were from the boys in the 349th, 350th, or 351st as they would not have their chance until tomorrow or later.

That morning, while the 418th were breaking in the brand-new B-17s, the ambiguous words ‘base duties’ lay next to your squadron while the rest would be ‘enjoying’ classroom instruction. Base duties, as it turned out, entailed a lot of manual labor and organization of the piles of newly arrived equipment while awaiting your flight time of 1300. It was difficult to keep your eyes from drifting up to the surprisingly clear sky where the great looming shadows of planes enviably circled overhead, practicing their combat formations. You could only hope they 100th would soon have enough planes for all of you to be up there perfecting your hard-won skills…

Eating a light helping of the porkchops and rice at lunch, you were more than a little eager to get back into the cockpit, smiling warmly to the enlisted women of your crew as they waited eagerly outside the hangar.

“How’re we feeling ladies?” You asked as you, Andie, Babs, and Gina joined them.

“Well when I saw that list, I was fit to be tied Ma’am. Sure wish we could have gone up first, but second’ll do!” Mouse exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Second is certainly better than fifth.” You nodded in agreement and waived them inside the hangar as Dutch called for the squadron to gather round.

A large blackboard had been wheeled out into the empty space, a list of maneuvers to be practiced on the left and the last names of the ten Pilots on the right, all in an untidy hand.

“Alright ladies, listen up. Today’s flight will be below 10,000 feet, no masks required. We will not be carrying any ordinance, simply practicing combat formations and two, maybe three runs over the bomb range if time and weather permit. Just dipping our toes in the water as a squadron at this point.

I’ll be flying with Thornton in the lead, the rest of you will follow in this order. This is nothing new for any of you but the first time you are doing this with your crews – gunners you will be expected to take your positions following takeoff. Any questions?”

After a lull, several of the pilots shook their heads, feeling confident in having committed flying order to memory. Your plane would take off third, flying opposite Lionheart’s just behind the lead plane in the typical V-shape formation once assembled in the air. Dismissed to board and conduct your pre-flight checks, you were more than a little annoyed to find there was an audience of men lining the hardstands – clearly brimming with curiosity, and surely sharing Friedkin’s doubts about the entire squadron’s flying capabilities.

The hulking planes loomed ahead, bristling with machine guns, widely believed to be the safest aircraft in the sky. A ‘flying fortress’ that, thanks to the Norden bomb sight, could fly well above land-based defences. It was these very attributes that Thornton had weaponized in her battle against Congress and the USAAF, winning this experimental exception for women to fly into combat in this aircraft only. For now. The need to achieve their goals, exceed their expectations so that more progress could be made, was not lost on you.

Tossing your flight bag into the bottom of the aircraft, you gripped the sides of the hatch and easily swung yourself upwards, legs first, after it. Navigating through the cramped, narrow passages, you settled into the lefthand seat and affixed your throat mic and head set before nodding to Andie on her arrival. Running through the pre-flight checklist with her, you slid open your window to communicate with the ground crewman, starting up each engine one at a time before he pulled the chocks.

Rolling out to line-up on the runway felt like the most normal thing you had done in the days since you left Texas, wending your way up here on a series of passenger trains only to find yourself in unfamiliar landscape and a fresh crop of unfriendly faces. Thirty seconds after Lionheart successfully took to the air, you received the signal from the man on the ground, sliding your window shut and pushing up on the throttle as Andie rattled off the ever-increasing speed until the airlift swept the plane smoothly into the sky.

 It proved a beautiful day for flying, not too rough, not too many clouds. You and Andie began to build your cockpit partnership, and the hand-offs with Babs during the practice bombing runs were effortless. It honestly came as a surprise when Dutch called an end to the practice run over the radio, the entire affair having been so enjoyable, the squadron lining up for an even-more well attended landing. Sliding from your aircraft with a grin on your face, you noted the familiar faces of Friedkin, Larkin and Pratt, gathered conspiratorially, wearing broad smirks. That Brady fellow was there too, but accompanied by an unknown blond with glinting gold in his smile and a shorter man with tousled dark hair barely contained beneath his cap.

In fact, it seemed impossible to get away from that Brady fellow as, apparently a member of the 418th, you would have to endure his presence during classroom hours as well. Taking a seat as far from him as you could, flanked by Lionheart and Andie, you diligently focused on the instructor at the front of the room.

“Point of review, what is your best option if your engine catches fire?” The middle-aged Lieutenant Colonel raked his eyes over the class.

The answer immediately popped into your head, a steep dive to attempt suppressing the fire, but you hesitated to raise your hand. On more than one occasion, you had been advised to give other students a chance to answer. That perhaps you took up too much air in a classroom. And so you held your tongue, silently counting to ten.

You reached ‘eight’ before the instructor raised his eyes a few rows back.

“Yes, please state your name before you answer.”

“John Brady. Shut off the fuel and feather it, sir.” He spoke confidently, accent so mild as to be indiscernible.

You furrowed your brows as you disagreed and raised your hand immediately.

“Yes, name and answer.”

Giving your name, you swallowed. “I would put the plane into a steep dive to suppress the fire and level out once it was extinguished.”

There was an almost inaudible scoff emanating from the direction of one John Brady and you straightened in your seat.

“So that I could finish my mission, sir.” You added firmly, earning a nod of approval from the instructor.

“Fine answer.” He declared before belatedly adding. “Both of you. It was a bit of a trick question, as it would truly depend on any number of factors, which option you as the Pilot choose. However, it is important to remember that you have more than one at your disposal.”

Instruction continued for another three hours that morning, your fingers cramping from the extensive notes you added to the margins of your training manual. As you were dismissed for lunch, you waived off the pats on the back you were getting from your squadron-mates, collecting your cap from where it hung on the back of your chair. Standing stiffly, you turned to meet the icy glare of Brady, starting a little at the intensity of it.

The nerve of that man, to be caught dead in the company of men like Friedkin and his goons, and then to glare at you for providing an alternative answer in class? Narrowing your eyes in kind, you sharply turned to follow your friends from the room, entirely decided he was the worst that the USAAF had to offer.

-------------------------

Read Part Two

The Last To Know Masterlist

Tag list: @luminouslywriting, @dustofbrokenheart, @precious-little-scoundrel

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

INEVITABLE

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: language, mild self loathing, mentions of the slave trade

word count: 3,679

Summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words 'I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

a/n: The soulmate!AU won the poll (sort of, i know there's 8hrs left but i don't foresee the other competitors having an underdog moment here)! Happy 500/1000 followers celebration!! I'm thinking this will be less than 10 chapters, but it def will be more than the 3 I promised. B/c despite knowing I have no self control and learning from that I continue to make the same mistakes smh. Drabble ideas always turn into full length stories in my dumb head🤡 but I'm excited for this one.

01: UNSTOPPABLE FORCE MEETS IMMOVABLE OBJECT

.

"a soulmate isn't someone who completes you. no, a soulmate is someone who inspires you to complete yourself. a soulmate is someone who loves you with so much conviction, and so much heart, that it is nearly impossible to doubt just how capable you are of becoming exactly who you have always wanted to be." ⏤ b.s.

.

You weren’t sure what was worse: knowing for most of your life that you were destined for a life on the run, or knowing that the universe deemed your soulmate to be a bounty hunter. It was some cruel twist of fate, you supposed. The galaxy was bored and decided to entertain itself by creating the most ironic coupling of all time. Honestly, if you weren’t one half of the said coupling you’d probably find it funny.

The cantina you sat in was like any of the other thousand you had sat in before. Messy, loud, and filled with people you had no desire to speak to. This one was especially worse because it was situated in Cratertown on Jakku of all places. It was a scud cantina in a scud city on a scud planet. The only reason you were still here was because you were desperate⏤ desperately searching the entire galaxy for a person who may or may not exist. You just wished this mysterious figure hadn’t picked cantinas as their signature hideaway spot.

You tapped the table twice, and the server passed by to fill your drink once more. You shot them a grateful smile and thanked them. Despite having barely any credits left in your pocket, you’d have to leave the server a hefty tip. You’d been here hours now, and he had put up with you the entire time. With a grumble of annoyance, you pulled a crumpled paper out of your jacket’s inner pocket and began to scratch out the last cantina on this damned planet. Bad news, this was a bust. Good news, you’d never have to step foot on Jakku again. 

“I can bring you in warm,” A voice spoke from behind you, “or I can bring you in cold.”

There they were. The words imprinted on your left rib cage since you turned thirteen. 

If this wasn’t your twentieth time hearing it then you might be impressed.

You slowly turned in your chair, hands raised, and stood. Now, you faced the Trandoshan bounty hunter holding you at blaster point. He chuckled as if he had already won. You shook your head, feigning disappointment, “Would you really arrest your soulmate?”

The Trandoshan narrowed his eyes at you in confusion. “What?”

“Well,” You shrugged, “It’s bound to work and get me out of a mess one day.”

You kicked the chair forward causing it to slam into the bounty hunter’s legs. He stumbled, grunting in pain, and you grabbed his hand to twist the blaster in a direction that wasn’t your face. He tried to reach out to hit you with his other hand. Before he could land a blow, you tucked your boot under the chair and kicked it up so it slammed into the Trandoshan’s jaw. He fell back, the blaster coming loose in his hand so you could snatch it away, and then it was you holding him at blaster point. 

“First off, you bounty hunters need to get more creative with your opening line.” You said. The bounty hunter growled and began to sit up. “Second, I’ll give you only one opportunity to walk away with your life. It’s your choice⏤” He jumped up to lunge at you, and without blinking you fired his blaster into his chest three times. When his body lay on the cantina floor, twitching, you sighed and tossed the blaster to the ground. “You literally didn’t even let me finish my offer, you ass.”

You glanced around, dusting off your hands, and realized the entire cantina was staring at you. With an awkward chuckle, you raised a hand and offered a sheepish smile. “My bad. Sorry.”

Knowing it was past time for you to get the kriff out of here, you bent over and rifled through the Trandoshan’s jacket. You found the holopuck and rapidly blinking tracking fob⏤ tossing both into your pockets. Then you rose only to kneel down again and steal the man’s credits. You threw the entire bag of coins onto the table you were sitting at and waved at your server who stood behind the bar with wide eyes. It’s not like the bounty hunter needed them anymore.

Hopefully, you’d be done fighting bounty hunters for the night. As you stepped out into the chilly, desert night air you paused to scoop the tracking fob out. The holopuck you would keep to add to your growing collection, but the fob was better off destroyed. You slammed it into the side of the cantina and let the broken pieces fall into the sand.

Maybe the galaxy had actually done you a favor. You stopped believing in the magic of soulmates a long, long time ago. So fate choosing to make your supposed soulmate the worst kind of being who floated around the universe was the best deterrent you could think of.

Din Djarin wasn’t sure what was worse: knowing for most of his life that his soulmate was going to be a criminal of some kind, or knowing that it was going to be his job to bring you in. If he really thought about it, took the time to write out a pros and cons list, then he’d have to choose the former rather than the latter. Din didn’t like thinking about it for very long though because the thought that fate deemed him the kind of person only worthy of love from someone who had done something to make them deserving of a bounty was a bit depressing. For the longest time, Din liked to pretend that maybe it was all some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe you were an Empire bounty and the reason you were wanted was because you fought against some Imps. It wasn’t a solid theory because he had only picked up a bounty for the Empire once and it had been Grogu’s. Din didn’t plan on picking up an Empire bounty ever again⏤ not that they’d want him to considering his history with Moff Gideon and the absolute pain he’s caused them since finding Grogu. 

That didn’t leave Din with many better options.

For the longest time, Din had been nervous before a hunt. What if this was the time he ran into the person fate chose for him? After a while, he grew a bit numb to it. Hardened. The longer he worked as a bounty hunter the more okay he was with being on his own. The thought of having to care for a soulmate exhausted him. Din started to hope he’d find you just so he could be rid of the entire situation. After Grogu came into his life, he realized what a lonely existence he had backed himself into. Things changed then, but having a foundling⏤ having a clan⏤ was more than he had ever hoped for in life.

Now, Din just ignored the words carved into the skin overlying his left rib cage.

“Patu.” Grogu cooed from the satchel hanging from his shoulder. Din glanced down to see the little boy trying to wiggle out to reach for a stand where a merchant was grilling some kind of meat. Din chuckled and paused long enough to buy two sticks. Grogu chirped happily when he handed both to the boy, and then he kept on his way.

Nevarro had certainly improved since the shoot out with Moff Gideon ages ago, and according to Karga it was only supposed to get better. Speaking of, he finally spotted the man standing in a plaza where⏤ Din paused and tilted his head. Even Grogu stopped eating to stare up at the statue. IG-11 was coated in bronze and stood tall in the middle of the plaza like decor.

“Ih.” Grogu chirped.

“Huh.” Din added. This was a new addition to Nevarro.

“Mando!” Karga cheered and he turned to greet the man who was dressed in ornamental robes. Din smirked to himself. It was good to see the power hadn’t gone to Karga’s head. “Welcome!” When Karga was close enough he held an arm out and Din didn't hesitate to clap his arm in a shake for greeting. “What brings you here?” Din didn’t respond and just tilted his head. “Right. Of course. How about we… handle these matters inside?”

Din motioned for the man to lead the way then followed. The building Karga led him into was just as ornamental and fancy as the robes he wore. Din once again had to resist the urge to laugh under his breath. They went all the way up to what he was assuming was Karga’s office.

“This is nice.” Din nodded.

“It is, isn’t it?” Karga dropped into his desk chair with arms outstretched. Din stayed silent and Karga’s grin and arms both fell. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

 Din shook his head, glad to have his helmet covering his wide grin and keeping his tone dry, “Mocking the Magistrate of Nevarro is beneath me.”

“High Magistrate.”

“Mhmm.” Karga waved his simple response away and dug through a drawer to find a few holopucks.

Din nodded toward them. “So, is it normal for the High Magistrate to still dabble in guild work?”

Karga shuffled through them. “Only sometimes, and only for my favorite hunters.” 

“Well, in that case, I’ll take the one that pays the most.”

“You always do.” Karga picked one puck out of the masses and activated it. A woman’s picture appeared and Din’s first thought was that you were pretty⏤ beautiful even. The High Magistrate said your name and Din wondered if he had heard it before. Something about it felt… familiar? No, that wasn’t it. Din shook his head. It hardly mattered. “She’s a tricky one, I should warn you. Many hunters have tried and failed, Mando. She works in the slave trade.”

Din huffed. That was proof that a pretty face wasn’t everything. No amount of good looks could wash away the sins of someone dealing in flesh. If Din had to pick a flavor of quarry he hated the most, it would be this kind.

The sound of laughter followed you down the ship’s ramp as you trailed out with a smile. The Mon Calamari crew you had managed to hitch a ride with gave you a hearty farewell, and when your feet hit the landing pad you spun to point at them with a smile of your own.

“Thanks for the ride, you guys! Stay safe, and keep Horchobua away from the spotchka,” You teased the navigator of the ship’s crew, “He was one bad round of sabacc away from owing me his first born.”

Another rowdy laugh from the crew, and the captain called back, “Stay out of trouble!”

“I always try!” You replied. It just never seemed to work.

The stars had aligned and luck was in your favor when you left Jakku. Circumstances that had startled you as it was far from the norm in your case. You had been able to get a lift from Jakku to Bespin. The city in the clouds that the Mon Calamari crew had dropped you off on was gorgeous. Though maybe you were that much more impressed since you were coming from a shitty desert world that made Tatooine look clean.

You readjusted the small cross body bag you wore over your jacket. The triangular shaped bag held literally everything you owned. A spare set of clothes, a cloth bag filled with a dozen holopucks, a datapad that only held a simple map on it, some toiletries, and a small, silver jewelry box you couldn’t get open. Everything else you owned was on your person. A simple, worn down shirt and pants that had seen better days. A thick jacket that you were able to strip on and off based on the weather⏤ though you usually kept it on since the back and arms had some armored padding. Boots that were close to falling off your feet from use. A metal dagger strapped to your right thigh, and a weapon tucked away into a shoulder holster under your jacket that you never used. It was a simple existence, but you didn’t mind it. Growing up with absolutely nothing to call your own, this was actually an example of you thriving. 

Over the last seven months, you had gotten very good at sniffing out cantinas. It was a gift. Some people could sing, some could paint, you could be dropped off into any city in the galaxy and you’d be able to find a cantina in under half an hour. It was a bit of an old talent to claim, but you’d take what you could get. When you stepped into the cantina, eyes drifted to stare at you. Unbothered by the attention, you winked at the closet patron and pressed in further. 

At the bar, you claimed the attention of the Twi’lek working today and ordered a drink. While he poured it, you leaned forward. “I’m looking for someone. A man named Reaper.” 

The bartender set your drink in front of you. His eyes darted to your neck before darting back up to your eyes. He shook his head. “No.” You tossed the right amount of credits on the bar along with a small tip. Before you could walk away, the Twi’lek stopped you. “Hey, that it?”

Rather than cause a scene, you tossed a few more credits on the bar and wandered away while the Twi’lek muttered in his native tongue behind you. You dropped down at a table in the back of the room which would give you a clear view of the entire space. Absentmindedly, your hand lifted to brush against the band of solid gold wrapped around your neck. Anytime people saw it they assumed you had more credits than you actually did. That wasn’t even the part that bothered you most. What you hated was the fact that the attention it drew made it very hard for you to forget about it.

You took a large swig of your drink and then leaned back in your seat to wait. The information you had included three facts. The informant you needed to find was called 'Reaper' which you personally thought was obnoxious. He was hiding away in a cantina every day for the same amount of hours waiting for customers. And, he would only offer you the information you wanted in exchange for information of equal value. You had the right kind of tip to trade, now you just needed to find the bastard.

For the first couple of hours, you just sipped on your drinks and people watched. It was how you killed time while in these cantinas waiting for a person who might not ever come. Right now, the bartender was hitting on a human woman who had absolutely no desire to reciprocate the action. Two Rhodians sat at the table beside you gossiping about work. The back booth had a Wookie, who you initially was concerned would be after you, but a Trandoshan had joined them and their interaction had all their attention on one another. Most, if not all, the patrons of this cantina were of the upstanding citizenship kind. The exact opposite of Jakku. In fact, you were the only armed person in the room. 

It was during that third hour that a new face wandered into the room. Though, calling this stranger a new face seemed redundant considering the helmet he wore left him faceless. A thrill went down your spine at the sight of him. Wow. Mandalorian. You had met a man in Tatooine who wore Mandalorian armor, but he told you it didn’t belong to him so you assumed that didn’t count.

This man was covered head to toe in polished, silver beskar armor. Seeing the rare metal made you realize why it was valuable. A cloak, shredded and torn at it’s end, hung from around his neck and you clocked every weapon you saw. Blaster on his hip. Incendiary grenades on his belt. Rifle shells on the bandolier across his chest and around his right calf⏤ though you saw no rifle. Vambrace with no visible weapon, but you’d garner a guess it hid one. Floating in behind him was a circular egg shaped pram. It was closed and you wondered what kind of dangerous tool he hid away in there.

The darkened, t-shape visor scanned the room and you realized it stopped right on you. What were the chances this dangerous looking Mandalorian, who wore a pair of binders on his belt next to the grenades, wasn’t here for you? 

You hadn’t been the only one to stop and stare at this towering man, and eyes seemed to follow him as he slowly crossed the room. Honestly, you were a bit insulted. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle. Did he think so little of you as a quarry? You knew you had a reputation. You had killed and escaped enough hunters to earn one. Yet, this bounty hunter didn’t hesitate while walking through a crowded room to arrest you. The absolute gall of this shiny Mandalorian.

He stopped right in front of your table⏤ a silent statue. You shifted on the bar stool and sat forward so your back wasn’t pressed against the wooden backing and the balls of your feet were planted on the floor. Your hand lifted out to your glass, and the Mandalorian reached for his blaster at the same time. You raised an eyebrow in question while slowly bringing the drink to your lips. As much as this last drink had cost you, you weren’t about to let a drop go to waste. The Mandalorian continued to stand stiff as his hand rested on his still holstered blaster.

Then came the words.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” 

The Mandalorian’s hoarse voice drifted through a modulator and you felt the hairs at the back of your neck rise in response. It was silly what this man’s voice alone had done. A whisper at the back of your mind said this was different. This was not the same as every other encounter you had with those words. Your stomach churned nervously. Fear clawing its way up into your chest. Please, no. Maker, no, no. Not now. Don’t let this be the moment. 

“Would you really arrest your soulmate?” You replied, and you hated how the words came out hushed and quiet rather than confident and bold like you usually said them. The Mandalorian didn’t flinch. He didn’t do anything. The fear began to diminish and you let out a sigh of relief. Thank the Maker. He wasn’t your soulmate⏤ he was just an intimidating Mandalorian with a very attractive voice. You knew how to deal with that. Pasting a smirk on your lips, you shrugged. “You scared me for a second there, Mandalorian.”

You shoved the table forward, as hard as you could, while leaping up. It slammed into the man’s abdomen right below where his beskar chest plate provided protection. A grunt of pain left him as he doubled over, and you quickly grabbed the bar stool you sat on and swung it around to hit the Mandalorian. It made contact with his shoulder’s pauldron and helmet. The bar stool exploded into shards of wood⏤ losing it’s battle against the beskar⏤ but it succeeded in knocking the man to the ground. Without missing a beat, you sprinted for the door and then out into the night air. Based on that interaction, Mandalorians weren’t nearly as tough as the rumors stated, but, unlike him, you weren’t going to underestimate your opponent.

You didn’t slow your pace, slipping in and out of darkened alleys, and breathed a sigh of relief.

That had been close.

The pram floated closer, doors open, and Grogu leaned out to stare down at him in question, “Buir?”

Din laid on his back staring up at the ceiling in shock. ‘Would you really arrest your soulmate?’ Dank farrik. Shit. He let every single other curse word he knew ring through his mind and still it wasn’t enough. Soulmate. He found his soulmate. Din had a bad feeling the moment he stepped into the cantina and spotted you sitting at a table alone. The bounty puck didn’t do you justice, and Din had felt drawn in by your magnetic gaze. It only got worse when he got closer. He should’ve taken that as a hint and left⏤ called Karga from hyperspace and let the man know that he was turning down the bounty.

But, no. Din made the egregious mistake of speaking to you, and his punishment had been your timid response. Your voice was quiet, and it felt like a soft caress. An intimate whisper. In moments of weakness, he always wondered what those words would sound like, but he never imagined what fate actually gave him. Din had been starstruck. Face bright red in warmth yet frozen in disbelief as his mind reeled for an answer. 

You spoke once more, this time voice filled with confidence that matched the smirk you suddenly adorned, and before he could even register your words you were attacking him. If anybody Din knew had seen the fight⏤ if it could even be called that⏤ he’d have to hang up his armor and die in shame. It was embarrassing how easily you bested him with a table and bar stool, and if you hadn’t caught him so off guard it never would've happened. 

Grogu had hopped out of his pram and now stood on Din’s chest so his small, green hand could repeatedly pat his helmet in question. Technically, his son had seen that display, and for the first time he was glad Grogu wasn’t fluent in Basic.

“Yeah, ad’ika.” Din groaned. “I’m okay.”

He rolled to sit up and realized the entire room was still staring at him. Din rose stiffly and set Grogu back into his pram. Awkwardly, he gave the room a small wave and cleared his throat. “Sorry.” For good measure, he tossed a few credits on the table that had knocked the wind from him and made his leave. Din paused outside the cantina and opened his mouth to heave an annoyed sigh, a curse slipped out with it, “Dank farrik.”

Din Djarin had found his soulmate.

Well, fuck.

mando'a translations:

ad'ika: little one /// buir: parent (father)

taglist: @onceinamando @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @harriedandharassed @aheadfullofsteverogers @elfamosotoga @the-anchored-sailor-girl

(i've decided to start a separate list for this story b/c i just can't bring myself to post the AFS taglist in fear that someone on there doesn't want me spamming them with this story sorry i have anxiety lol)

[next chapter]

[yarrystyleeza]

𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝟐𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!

Well, as the title suggests, I am turning 22 on January 30th (yes I can't believe it either), and it's a very very special number to me, I was obsessed with it since I was a kid—because of Taylor Swift's 22 of course (you have no idea how happy my inner child is now!).

However, I thought I should celebrate this very important event with you by hosting my second sleepover! (honestly I was planning to make this a double sleepover if I hit 300 followers before my birthday, but since I didn't, I really had to host a sleepover)

As usual, my sleepover will host games, questions, asks, and definitely, requests!!! <3

The sleepover will be a week long, from January 30th till February 6th, where you can submit asks and requests!

Note on prohibited things that I won't be doing or answering:

No nsfw/dirty asks, writing requests or questions, it's uncomfortable for me sometimes, and this is an all-ages-friendly celebration. No further elaboration, please respect this. <3

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬:

Here's a list of the games we can play:

Kiss/Marry/Kill: you give me three characters and I will sort each one in one of these categories! (make it hard for me)

Would you rather: you give me two things/characters and I get to choose one that suits me better! (for example: night owl or early bird?)

Make an assumption: you literally make an assumption about me and I either prove it or deny it!

Never have I ever: you ask me about things I did or didn't do!

Exchanged Ships: basically, you give me a character that you find as my significant other, and I will give you a character in exchange and why I think it's the perfect character for you!

Random Q&A: you can ask me about anything, whether it's my favorite food or even what fabrics do I prefer to wear, ask whatever you want!

Girly Talks: just talk to me about any girly topic you want and we'll establish a good conversation! Let's talk about books or authors, favorite poetry pieces, maybe movies we loved in our childhood, or even your favorite outfits back when you were a 10 year old! Literally anything!

Rate My Music Taste: give me a song/artist and I will rate it from 1 (absolute flop) to 10 (total banger)! — (this is absolutely done just for fun).

I Wanna Write You A Song: start with a phrase and we will make a totally original song together in the reblogs!

Doodles: give me something simple to draw!

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬:

As for writing requests, I will be taking fluff/angst/violence (blood and gore—due to the nature of the characters I write for) x female!reader requests only. But of course you can request the prompt you desire. <3

As for the characters, here's a list of the fictional men that I would be writing for:

Matt Murdock/Daredevil

Foggy Nelson

Tristan Thorn

Michael Kinsella

Henry (from Eat Locals)

Daryl Dixon

(might consider writing for other Charlie Cox/Norman Reedus characters. example: Ian Hamilton, Owen Sleater, Scud, Murphy MacManus, etc.)

You can ask for prompt included in this list or ones you come up with yourself:

intimate moments / gestures that make me feel love / romantic rainy day prompts / gentle things that make me fall harder in love / fluffy comforting/sick dialogue prompts / lighthearted first kiss prompts / sparring prompts / forced proximity prompts / date prompts masterpost /

Note that I will be tagging the fic requests with #yuna's 22 birthday sleepover so they're easy to find, but they will be sorted in my main masterlist as regular requests! <3

tagging my moots to spread the word sorry for being a little too annoying hehe (and I tried to tag as much as possible but my memory is messing around with me I'm sorry if I forgot anyone): @v4leoftears @remonemo @fizanotfeeza @bunmurdock @bellaxgiornata @kal-0n @1988-fiend @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @floral-charlie-cat @farfromstrange @babygirlmurdock @mattmurdocksscars @itwasthereaminuteago @c-mrdck @xxeycisxx @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mindidjarin @little-miss-dilf-lover @shiorimakibawrites @tongueofcat @marytheweefrenchie @chvoswxtch @devilsmurdock @galaxies-and-moons-and-cox @acharliecoxedfan @folkloreandfall @murdocklorian @munsonownsmyass @abbyhaslongshorts @murc0ck @lazyxsquirrel @theradioactivespidergwen @xxdrixx @saintmurd0ck @softasawhisper @she-likesorchids @peterman-spideyparker @mattmurdocksstarlight @amberlynnmurdock @courtforshort15 @saltedlays @importantnightwerewolf @lene-loki

That's basically everything I have for my birthday sleepover, feel free to submit requests and games! Thank you for coming to my sleepover tonight! <3

[daryldicksuckon69]

Masterlist

My AO3

Requests are Open!

RULES FOR REQUESTS

I only write Female x Reader content, as that is what I am and what I feel I am able to write.

I'll only be writing fics for Norman Reedus characters (not including the actor, the fictional characters exclusively), I might expand in the future but my preference is Reedus characters.

You must be 18+ years of age to request NSFW content. Please do not read the content of this blog unless you are of age, thank you.

I don't write with themes/subjects of; Incest (of any kind), Rape/Non-Con, Abusive Relationships, Age Gaps/Age Play and Omega Verse.

Now, onto the Masterlist!

Tag Key

Smut (18+) = 👄

Fluff = 💛

Daryl Dixon x Reader (The Walking Dead 2010)

Series

Trials and Tribulations (Lawyer Reader x Pre-Apocalypse Daryl) 👄

OneShots

Good Morning To You Too 👄(18+)         (31/01)

Summary: You and Daryl had always been good friends, but when you overhear the Newberry women talk about him at their welcome barbeque, you begin to wonder whether you may like him more than you’ve let on. 

Unspoken Truths💛(16+)

Summary: Daryl and Reader and reminded that they need to step into reality and admit the growing attraction between the two of them that literally everyone else sees except them.

Ride His Motorcycle 👄 (18+)

Summary: You and Daryl find yourselves in tight quarters for hours on end and nothing came of it, until Daryl grows the balls to address the situation.

Sex on Fire 👄 (18+)

Y'are Beautiful, Really💛(Pre-Apocalypse, Highschool Daryl)

Van x Reader (Floating 1997)

Mini-Series

Have a Nice Summer (ongoing - coming soon) 💛👄

You go on holidays with your family at your new lakehouse. You meet Van, the mysterious boy whom you discover was the original owner of this house, and the original owner of your new room. 

Murphy McManus x Reader (Boondock Saints 1999)

OneShots

Scud x Reader (Blade II, 2002)

Oneshots

Exclusively Tech Bros 👄 (18+)

[dixons-sunshine]

Scud Frohmeyer loves having his hair played with.

If you want him to unwind and relax quickly, playing with his hair and scratching his scalp would be the quickest way to do that. Give him head scratches, and he would love you forever.

Those moments, where he’s cuddled up to your chest, with one of your arms around him and your other hand disappearing into his long hair, your nails gently scraping against the skin of his head, are some of his absolute favourite moments. He’ll be laying nearly on top of you, your fingers gently threading through his hair, and he’s more content than he’s ever been. He may or may not purr like a cat in those sweet moments.

When he’s kissing you, the quickest way to get him to melt in your embrace is to let your hands disappear in his hair. Do that, and he’s absolute putty in your hands, willing to do anything you ask of him.

When the two of you shower together, he absolutely adores when you wash his hair. He’d be leaning his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes closed as he basks in the tenderness of the moment, the bliss that comes with the gesture. Hell, he might even ask you to wash and condition his hair twice, just to keep that feeling going a little longer.

Scud Frohmeyer loves having his hair played with.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Light the Match to Taste the Heat

Pairing: Scud x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Recreational drug use; poorly written smut

Summary: There’s really no plot. Just smut.

A/N: My writing has gone downhill but here is some Scud smut.

You took another toke, holding the joint between your thumb and forefinger while watching with an amused interest. Your bare legs bracketed your boyfriend’s hips, his baggy jeans sitting low and revealing the waistband of his boxers beneath. Scud’s shirt was off, his scars on display but you paid no mind to those—never really had—because the entertainment was further north where he stared intently at the length of soft shibari rope he had knotted into a ghastly mess before it had even touched your skin.

You nearly choked on your exhale.

Baby blues flitted over to where you lay naked below him and then back to the rope, the latter tossed over his shoulder with a shrug. “File that in the later folder.” He dropped forward, catching himself on his hands—arms extended—on either side of your head.

Turning your hand, you placed the joint between his lips and held it there as the paper lit up with his deep inhale. “Can turn a slinky into a bomb but can’t seem to properly tie up his girlfriend.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head, the smoke billowing from his nose and mouth to form a cloud between your faces. “You may have lost your man card.”

“Is that right?” He smirked, plucking the joint from your grasp to hit it again and put it in the ashtray.

“Hey, I wasn’t finished—!” You protested, the last word shaping into a low moan when Scud ground his pelvis against your core, his erection prominent.

“I’ll make sure you're finished, baby.” He cooed, pupils blown and sclera tinted red. When he began to close the distance—attempting to lower to his elbows—his hand slipped and your foreheads met roughly with a dull thud.

Face contorted in discomfort, you pressed the heel of your hand to the tender area. “Dumbass.” Even while pained, you laughed at his incredulous expression, as if something just so Scud was beyond his comprehension.

“Does that count as foreplay?” His grin was lopsided at best while your hands worked at his jeans, opening them and shoving them—and his boxers—down over his ass, grabbing his buttocks as you hooked your legs over his hips.

“It does if you fuck me right now.” He wasted no time. While feeling him begin to stretch you open, your walls clenching and releasing around the intrusion, you pressed your head into the mattress and dug your nails into his skin. “Oh, fuck, Josh!”

He chuckled, the noise muted against your skin as he sucked at your collar bone. “Just gettin’ started, baby.” He thrust the remaining couple of inches in roughly, shunting you straight up toward the headboard. “Always so fucking tight.”

The pace he set was delectably perfect, his tip hitting that spot inside of you in a rhythm that had your toes already curling and your mouth hanging up with a string of ah ah ah’s that were for his ears only but likely picked up by the keen senses of the resident daywalker.

“Damn, you’re hot like this.” Scud praised breathlessly, clumsy hand palming at your breast. “I mean, you’re hot all the time, but—”

“Shut up.” Your demand was immediately followed up with your hands in his hair, yanking him down until your mouths clashed in the most sloppy—yet perfect—kiss. Squeezing his hips with your thighs, you broke free of his lips with a deep inhale while simultaneously rolling him onto his back. Sitting up, you ground your hips at a brutal pace, chasing your high.

“Shit, baby. Slow down before you break—”

“I thought I told you to shut up.” You smirked at him. Hand leaving your hip, he made a zipping motion across his mouth and redirected both hands to your breasts. “Oh, no no. I want you to shut up, not be quiet.” Clenching your muscles around his cock drew out a guttural sound from the man below you, his hands squeezing at your chest.

That was enough to ignite the flame in your belly, to feel that knot pulling taut. Scud was panting below you, face contorted with pleasure. The twitch of his cock as it moved inside you was telling: he was close. Your thighs were burning, your stomach muscles straining but the payoff would be sublime.

“Cum with me, baby. I want you to cum.” You threw back your head, your hands coming to rest on top of his on your breasts. “I’m close.”

“Don’t stop.” Scud pleaded, his hips rising to meet yours with each bounce. “Fuck, m’gonna—”

“Oh. Oh, Josh!” Your orgasm was sudden but no less powerful, consuming you as if you’d been set aflame. You could hear your boyfriend groaning, feel his warmth spilling into you, your inner walls spasming and pulling him impossibly deeper.

The last dregs of your climax were dimming, the world coming back into focus. At some point you had collapsed onto Scud’s chest. His heart galloped below your cheek while his hand glided up and down your back.

“Goddamn, girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.” The warmth of his palm disappeared and the click of a lighter followed. The smell of marajuana wafted into your nostrils, enticing you to giggle and anticipate your turn for a toke.

“Definitely if you don’t learn to be quiet.” You balanced on your elbow beside him, accepting the joint with a waiting hand. Inhaling deeply, you opened your mouth to continue when a deep voice sounded from somewhere outside the door.

“You both need to learn to be quiet!”

Snorting, smoke flowing from your nose, you joined Scud in a quiet burst of shameless laughter before you spoke in unison:

“Sorry, B!”

[yevmarie]

You Own Me

Pairing: Scud x Female Reader

Word count: 2,2k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, terribly written smut, p-in-v sex, creampie (the reader is on pills), sub!Scud, dom!reader, dirty talk, vouyeurism, degradation, praising, pet names, Scud calling reader a mistress, alcohol consuming, mentions of pot smoking, profanity, bad English (not my first language).

It was a late, lonely evening in your apartment. You were tipsy from alcohol that had been consumed before. Sitting on the couch, your head laying on the throw pillows, eyes closed. Some music was humming in the background. You needed to vent, and that was the maximum you could afford.

You secretly wanted some fling with him. That damn stoner was as hot as fuck. And if you hadn't known the details of how he was saved by Blade, you would try something long-term, but no, no, and no. So you were quite cold with him and bitchy. To your surprise, it worked the opposite way for him. 

That had been a stressful working day with Scud, who was flirting the whole day while you were trying to focus on new explosives for Blade’s next mission. It wasn’t so unusual about his flirty and touchy nature. He always tried to fill your space with his presence. Sometimes, he just sits silently in his chair, smoking and observing every move from you. Or traps you between him and a wall when you meet in a corridor. But this time, he almost crossed the line. Scud’s hands were accidentally brushing your butt when he walked by. He was trying to help you with explosives, standing behind you with an obvious boner poking between your ass cheeks. Or saying some pieces of advice in your ear with his sweet and relaxed voice, which sounded dubious. Damn, perv.

So, this teasing game at work today made you lose focus, and that damn lab could have been almost destroyed to the ground, but it ended with a local fire that you both knocked out. It was an understatement how Blade was furious, as it was quite luxurious to lose all the tech and valuable staff. After that incident, Josh was staying flirty, and you just sent him off and went home furious. 

You were almost falling asleep out of stress, tiredness, and the volume of alcohol in your blood system when you got a message from Scud. The display on your phone was showing a voice message. Not a usual behavior from him but still. Is it an apology message? Expecting him to tell some stupid jokes after smoking pot as an apology, you tiredly played it. 

Your eyes widened almost immediately upon hearing him whimpering; there were some squelching sounds in the background. He was whispering in a shaky voice. 

“Ah! Want you so badly. Just bend you over the table and fuck you stupidly till you can’t walk.”

JEESUS! The blood pulsating in your temples was almost hurting, and a sheer layer of sweat appeared on your forehead. Damn, that stupid stoner probably mispressed the recipient. But that didn't stop you from replaying it several times until you found yourself fantasizing and relieving your sexual tension. 

However, it didn’t let you fall asleep until the early morning. Being tired, worn out, and angry, you were preparing for work. You were craving an explanation from him, so you decided to wear the sluttiest outfit you had in your closet just in case your guesses were true that that damn message was addressed to you. Wearing a top with no bra underneath and a mini skirt, you went to work.

You came to the warehouse a bit later than Scud, who was already smoking and welding some parts. He turned around to greet you with a smirk on his face but froze, seeing you in a skimpy look. Tits with no bra evidently bounced under the top every time you made a step. Your legs seemed even longer with the help of the mini. 

“Morning,” he mumbled through the joint between his mouth. You silently sat down on the chair next to him. 

“Wanna get some explanations from you.” You were angry as fuck, but you were doing your best to hide it. “Yesterday evening, I got one interesting message from you…” 

“An interesting message?” He puffed out the smoke, playing dumb. 

“I can explain,” but he was trapped with your foot placed between his legs, applying a slight pressure to his hardness and balls. 

“Shit, no way he doesn’t remember anything; he is playing with me. A stud.” You silently took out your phone from your pocket and played that cursed message. His skin reddened in seconds, his lower lip was trapped between his teeth, his chest was heaving, and a smirk was forming. He shifted in his seat to stand up.

“Son of a bitch, you’ve even got aroused already,” you thought. “Then explain.” 

He gasped, his throat seeking air. He licked his lips, feeling dizzy, and that stupid smirk never left his face. 

“I was just… I smoked a lot, and… I’m really sorry; I barely remember it.” He was acting, clearly enjoying the setting. 

Your foot added some pressure to his arousal, now evidently visible to you. He whimpered, bucked his hips to your foot, and held onto the table so his fingers became white. You tilted your head to the side, your darkened eyes boring into his. 

“You, working almost in oblivion, are telling me now that you smoked too much?” He didn't reply; he just breathed heavily, being dark red. What a whore! You put off your leg and stood up, seeing him doing the same, but you just pushed him down back to the chair. 

“So, will you try to explain again?” 

“Sit down.” You took a plastic cable tie from the table you had laid your eyes on before and walked behind him. You aggressively grabbed his hands behind him and tied them. But surprisingly to you, he obeyed, and it pissed you off even more. “Damn, he literally craves my attention.” You walked back to your chair and sat down. 

He breathed heavier and more rapidly. “Okay, it was on purpose. Just tired of dancing around and stuff. You know what I want from you.” He licked his dry lips, observing you with a hungry look and already undressing you mentally, if not fucking you like an animal. 

“And you won’t get it,” you replied in a cold tone.

“Why?” He pouted playfully and shifted in the seat as if trying to free himself from the plastic tie. 

“I wanna show you how it is to be a tease. Wanna make you beg.” You spread your legs and shifted your underwear aside, letting your fingers glide over your arousal and smearing it over your clit. 

“Holly shit,” his eyes were glued to your movement.

You gasped and rolled your head back, back curved, with the other hand placed on the chair for stability. He licked his lips and bit them down with anticipation. His boner was painfully restrained in his jeans. 

You whispered, playing with yourself, lost in pleasure. “You like the view?” And you inserted two fingers inside your pussy earning a lewd moan from yourself. You heard him breathing rapidly, almost panting. 

“I want you, Y/N. Pleeease.” He was squirming, trying to find any friction in his jeans, but it failed. His cock was painfully trapped and leaking with pre-cum appearing as a wet spot on the fabric. 

“Who told you if you beg, you get what you want?” Your fingers moved back and forth inside you. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered, which made you laugh deviously and move your fingers faster, which made you clench, and you understood you wouldn't last long. 

“Please. Want you to use me. Wanna be your fuck toy. Just let me feel you.” His whining sent a jolt of pleasure. Understanding it was your approaching orgasm, you did the impossible and stopped yourself. You put your fingers out when you saw him opening his mouth, slightly hinting to taste you. You stood up in front of him and shoved your fingers in his mouth, which he started to suck eagerly momentarily. He was moaning while sucking your fingers, whispering in between.

“Mmmph, you taste so good, girl. I want more. I want all of you, please.”

“Think you deserve it?” Despite your cold demeanor, you were enjoying the view, which made you even more aroused. 

“Yes, please. I wanna take all of you. Wanna feel you tight around me. Please, Y/N.” He hummed and sucked your fingers. 

“My needy little slut”

“Yours and only. Just let me dive into your sweet pussy, please. I will do anything for you.”

“Anything?”

“Yeah, anything,” he whimpered needily. “Just fuck me already.”

These words made you clench around nothing, so you put off your fingers, seeing his hungry and desperate gaze, and decided to finally do what you wanted for so long. 

“Hips up!” You commanded, unbuttoning his jeans, and he obeyed with no hesitation. You pulled his jeans and boxers down his thighs, his cock springing free, hard and throbbing. 

“Ah, finally,” he gasped with relief when you suddenly grabbed his jaw in your hand. 

“Finally? How come those little needy brains thought I would fuck you, huh?” Your other hand grabbed his cock, smearing pre-cum over his tip, and started stroking it teasingly slowly. He shivered and exhaled shakily, his mouth agape.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Thought you're gonna show your sympathy towards me.” He let out a whine, his cock twitching. “I’m all yours, Y/N. Just sit on me, ride me, use me.” You started to stroke him faster, seeing his cock almost ready to cum while Scud was squirming, whimpering, and almost crying out of pleasure. And you suddenly stopped hearing a bitter whine from him and whispering, “Please, please, please.”

You pulled up your skirt a bit and stood closer, ready to sit down on his leaking length. You were lowering above his cock, shifting your underwear aside, and finally sank on his tip, letting out a soft gasp. Meanwhile, Scud was babbling yeses and other stuff you didn't pay attention to as you slid down his above-average shaft. When you finally consumed him whole and were adjusting to his size, he whined more. 

“Ohhh, please!”

You felt a sudden wave of hunger and tugged his hair on the back of his head, making him gasp and open his mouth. 

“Shut up, Josh!” You closed the distance between your faces and kissed him aggressively, though passionately, shoving your tongue in his mouth. And you both moaned sweetly, finally getting what you both craved. You started rolling your hips, slowly teasing both of you. Scud whispered between kisses. 

“You feel so good, baby,” and at this moment you knew you were damn lost, tugging his hair more than before and riding him in a fast rhythm. 

Panting, moans, whimpers, groans, skin slapping, and lips smacking were making an obscene symphony filling the space of the warehouse. You rode him furiously as if you were a nymphomaniac chasing your high, enjoying every moment. 

Scud was even more lost in pleasure. Totally fucked out, falling apart, his eyes half closed, his mouth babbling sweet nothings. The image was so beautiful, it almost looked like a piece of art. 

“You are using me so well. Want my cock to belong only to you, mistress. Want you to ride me forever.” You clenched around him involuntarily, earning moans from both of you. 

“Mistress, huh?” You smirked deviously and leaned to his ear, saying in a lower and silent voice. “And you are nothing more than a fuck toy.”

“Fuck!” He panted and rolled his head back, his eyes threatening to close. You grabbed his choker, pulling him closer to your face, and took a handful of his hair again while riding him. 

“Eyes on me!” he ignored as he was in a haze, obviously enjoying every second of the intimacy. “EYES.ON.ME.” You slowed your movements until he opened his eyes, drunk with sex. 

“Fuck!” You whimpered, feeling your pussy clenching as this view made you closer to your approaching orgasm. Just a couple of frictions, and you are done. You whispered, lips inching from his mouth. 

“Wanna cum inside? I’m on pills.” You exhaled deeply and choked on your pleasure, riding yourself slowly through your orgasm, and this was the last straw for him.

“Ah, fuck!” He groaned, moaning, his eyes rolling back, his body jolting. You felt him pulsing inside you, spilling his warmth. Scud’s panting, mixed with cries of satisfaction, echoed in the building. 

After some moments, he tiredly looked at you, and you placed a gentle and slow kiss on his lips, which he eagerly reciprocated. You leaned back after a while and said silently. 

“Hope you liked it.” You smirked a little and took scissors from the table to free his tied hands, earning a tight hug from him and hungry kisses mixed with moans. Then he pulled away a bit to admire your face.

“Me? Liked it?” He chuckled tiredly. “Gonna send you more voice messages from now on.”

“Dork.” You tried to stand up from him but were tugged back to him, earning a gasp from you and a confused look.

“Now your personal dork, mistress. You own me,” he smirked. You smirked too and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, letting yourself get lost in him. 

[h0tb0x1nnac0ff1n]

HELP PLEASE IM OVULATING RIGHT NOW 😩

[norman-fucking-reedus]

I read your submissive Scud post and it literally had my foaming at the mouth. I was wondering if you would expand on that? (Especially the pegging part💀)

Thank you!! You’re awesome!!! I love your work!!

THE PEGGING THE PEGGING THE PEGGINGGGRAAAAHHHH 😝🎀🔥🦅🦅

We’re both foaming at the mouth okay I get the urge to fuck the shit out of him every hour of the day its not a want its a need I desire that I NEED THAT

Anyone who says Scud wouldn’t be into pegging needs to immediately get their eyes checked. That is a cock lover in the flesh. Like i’m telling you guys he loves to just get bent over any surface and be completely stuffed.

This brings me to my secret headcanon abt him, I firmly believe that he’s been double stuffed before. Maybe he bumped into some hot guys on a mission who he totally didn’t lure into the back of his van for them to literally ruin him, and he totally wasn’t getting his little throat and ass destroyed on all fours. Wrong guy. Not him. Never ever.

Now let’s not get it twisted Scud still loves women. Thing is, his cock has always had a lot more nerve endings than the average male, so he cums fairly quickly, but don’t worry because all of Norman’s characters come pre-equipped with pussy eating powers. And Scud is pussy eating machine. He wants it for breakfast lunch and dinner. He has to be forcibly removed and pried away before he thinks about stopping. The jaw cramps just means that hes doing the damn thing.

Back to the original topic.. When you first brought the idea up to Scud, he had absolutely no fucking clue what pegging was, until you dumbed it down for him, to which he almost immediately agreed. Getting his back blown out by a literal goddess? Umm, somebody better sign him up twice.

Now again, Scuds cock is a tender one, and good boys dont need to be cumming after a few thrusts, so you cutely and quietly stop that from happening. How?

“What’re ya tying?” Scud mumbled against your lips as he you looping something around his balls and the base of his cock, jerking slightly when you pulled the ribbon tightly, tying it into a small bow. “Just something special for you” You kiss him, and he needily kissed back, dick twitching from your gentle contact.

Scud gets very, very turned on by kisses. Especially ones that are deep and sloppy with lots of tongue and spit. He gets so drunk off them and it’s the easiest way to get him to submit, because lord he’d do anything you say just as long as you keep kissing him.

Okay the actual pegging part, Scud is not the foreplay type. He physically cannot take it and needs pleasure as soon as he can get it. He’ll whine and squirm as you finger him open, babbling out begs for you to hurry.

He likes to be fucked as if he were a literal ragdoll. Please pound into him as hard as you can, he needs it. He needs to be a moaning mess on the desk. Also Scud is so. fucking. loud. His whimpers and whines bounce off the walls for everyone to hear, and while yes kissing does work, yanking back on his choker works a lot better.

Scud has a choking kink to the max. A very dangerous one at that. He likes to be almost strangled, racing between his orgasm to see if he would cum or pass out first. His choked off gasps and sobs only get him fucked harder.

Oh and the ribbon. The amazing ribbon. When Scud’s orgasm starts to build, he can feel it in his gut, tingling in his toes and shooting through his spine, so close, getting closer and closer yet never quite falling off the edge. It starts to hurt, his dick starts to painfully twitch at the lack of release, whining loudly as you continued rocking into him, a smile pulling your lips. “Hey Scud. Wanna see how cool my cock is?”

He mumbles something out, lips glossy with spit as a small puddle started to form on the table. You fished a remote out from your pants pocket, clicking once, twice, glancing up to Scud’s twisting face. You swiftly pulled your hips back, leaving only the buzzing tip of the dildo before completely burying it all back into your boyfriend, pressing right into what you knew was his sweet spot from the lewd and loud whimpers that Scud couldn’t stop from coming out, each thrust sending his eyes so far into the back of his head.

Scuds cock ached, orgasm building so rapidly once again as you fucked him stupid, turning his brain into nothing but the sex clouded mess that it was made to be. When you amplify the vibrations speed, and it makes each snap of your hips pump pure ecstasy into his body, and he just needed so much more.

“Please, mmngh, please let me cum mommy, please fuck me so hard and let me cum,” He babbled, whimpers and moans tearing from his chest when he felt you increase your pace, skin slapping skin. “Is this what you want, hm baby? To be fucked like the dirt slut you are?” You cooed, leaning down over him. Scud brainlessly nodded against the table, choking on his words as he spoke. “Yes! Want mommy to pound me so deep- so, very fucking deep!” He gasped, shaking like a leaf when he felt the you pulling the ribbon loose, almost sobbing when his orgasm crashed over him finally, cumming harder than ever. You fucked him through it until he was twitching and whining, actually you fucked him until he came again, high moans spilling past his lips with every buzzing thrust to his sweet spot, so overstimulated and sensitive yet you just kept going.

Scud could barely keep his eyes open, groaning which each slap of your hips. You fucked him like he was your own sextoy, pulling orgasm after orgasm from him until he would just collapse, so used and destroyed. His toes curled at a particularly hard thrust, choking in surprise when you suddenly yanking his head back by his choker, holding him down onto your vibrating cock pressed blissfully into that bundle nerves inside him. Scud choked his moans and cries out, desperately rocking his hips as his third orgasm raced off the edge. Oh God, he was so fucking close, vision starting to turn black and his ears ringing as he practically fucked himself on your strap, orgasm slamming into him–

“Scud? Y/n?” Blade’s voice rang out from the hallway, and you quickly pulled out and away from Scud, who gripped the table as his orgasm continued washing over his whole body, bitting down on his lips as he muffled a pained yet so pleasured sob, hips thrusting into the air as ropes of white shot out from his swollen and totally untouched cock, “Fuckin’ hell Scud” You grumbled, shutting off the dildo and having to just stuff it in your underwear, pulling your pants up quickly and searching for anything to wipe up the mess you’ve created.

Blade approached the workshop, steps echoing throughout. You groaned when you couldn’t find anything, and settled for wheeling a chair ontop of it, shoving Scud in it so his still halfway exposed bottom was covered, leaning against the table as if everything was totally normal.

The man swung the workshop door open and lingered at the top of the stairs, staring down at you and Scud with a questioning face. “What are you two doing?” You shrugged, responding with a casual “Nothing.”

Blade’s eyes landed on Scud, who was still very visibly fucked out, eyes droopy and lust riddled, hair pushed back and messy, not to mention the bruises forming on his neck from his choker being pulled. “Mhm. Whenever you get done doing ‘nothing’, come find me” He spoke flatly, before turning and exiting the room, shutting the door behind him. You sighed in relief, glancing down at Scud and his ruined state.

You leaned down, tilting his head up to kiss him on his glossed lips, smiling playfully. “I am not done with you, Scudster”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I got a little carried way I just need. I need. I need him guys.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★