It was the 18th of December and although your limbs were exhausted from an evening spent performing your night was not over yet.
The Viking who had bought your company was named Rollo and as he lead you to his home your heart began to race in fear. The man who owned you, Halvar, was a portly older man who you would have never looked at given the choice but he was gentle with you even if you didn’t want his touches. This viking was tall, broad and with every long stride you wondered if he was capable of gentleness.
Usually Halvar didn’t share you with others so you wondered why he was allowing this man to take you now. Or perhaps he had no choice. Afterall this Viking was three times as large as Halvar and the axe on his hip looked well practiced. But you supposed the reason didn’t really matter. Rollo or Halvar, whoever you lay with you would still wake up a slave in a foreign land.
When you arrived at Rollo’s home it was nothing special and you were pleased that the smell was not too unpleasant. There were already several candles lit and beyond that the only thing to note was that the majority of the room was overtaken by a large bed. You tried not to look at it, instead focusing on a painted shield which hung from the wall.
“Danzleikr,” he commanded and with an unsteady breath you slowly turned your attention back to Rollo. Watching as he shrugged away his cloak and tunic until his chest was bare except for the marks printed across it.
Without clothes he looked even more formidable than before and your heart pounded harder as his dark eyes slowly trailed along your body, lingering on every curve with a satisfied smile.
“Dance,” he commanded again and the surprise of hearing the word in your own language made your eyes grow wide and your mouth hang open. Your reaction seemed to please Rollo who chuckled, the muscles in his chest flexing with every laugh. You didn’t know whether the display made you less afraid or more.
“Dance,” he said again, rolling the word a little smoother across his tongue as he sank onto the bed to watch you and like a good slave you did as he asked, moving your body without music and blushing under his lust blown gaze.
Warnings: Light cussing, Dom/Sub, Crop, Gun Play, Anal, Knife
play, Shibari, Presenting, Mating collars, Ball gag, Hand Job, possible Dub/Con
or Non/Con. If you have a problem with
any of these warnings DO NOT READ. If
you read this then I don’t want to hear any shit, it’s your own fault.
To take a page out of one of my favorite Tumblr writter’s ( @saxxxology ) book…
❌ Do not read my work if you are under the age of 18! Please read THIS POST before proceeding.
❌ Plagiarism is a crime and carries a heavy penalty of jail time and/or a fine for each work illegally reproduced. Do not repost my work (copy/paste) on Tumblr or other sites without my express, written permission!
The metal hinges creaked as the old wooden door opened into
the single room cabin. One would think
that a hunter would keep such things well-oiled but the noise acted as a
security alarm. She had bought this
place as a haven, and now that had been disturbed. His scent of black musk, apple and vanilla,
met her at the door causing a sigh to slip past her lips. Observing the still sleeping body of her
former lover laying prone on the bed she wondered, how was this fucker still
alive? She distinctly remembered
shooting him in the head. Yet here he
was laying where she tossed him three hours ago after knocking him unconscious,
then a light sedative.
@badsongwinchester This was amazing and so hot! Alpha!Mary isn’t something that I used to, but I really loved it here! Also, Ketch being dominated is one of my favorite things and the whole thing was so good! Love it. Thanks so much for writing it.
maekar’s the only one who’s sober enough to ask, and dyanna dreads it. he’ll do it, right? she thinks desperately. he’s mariah’s son. mariah is her mother’s cousin. or something like that. it doesn’t matter. what does matter is that she is fucking freezing despite the alcohol in her blood, and she really should have known better than to wear a slutty minion costume. she’d done it because she couldn’t believe they even existed, but then again she wouldn’t put anything beyond whatever marketing team came up with minions to begin with.
“can i borrow your jacket?” she asks him. “it’s a bit cold.”
maekar is the only person in the entire party who doesn’t stare at her costume in horror. she’d laughed at it early on–the horror that all the frat bros had had that they’d had to stare at a minion when staring at her tits or her ass.
“what are you supposed to be?” he asks her, shrugging out of his jacket, a crease between his eyebrows.
“how do you not know what a minion is?” she asks as she takes his jacket and puts it on.
“should i?”
“do you live under a rock that you managed to avoid it?” she’s laughing now. “teach me how to do that. they’re so goddamn annoying.”
“what are they?” maekar asks.
“they’re these…creatures from a kid’s movie.”
“oh,” he replies. she zips the coat up all the way to her neck and feels a little better. it’s still warm from him. “are they supposed to be…” and now his eyes are on her legs, long and with only the slightest trim of yellow skirt before his jacket takes over.
“slutty?” dyanna teases. then she opens her phone. “i wish i could say no, but i’ve seen some things. prepare to be scarred for life.”
This was so good! The idea of a minion costume is terrifying.
Anonymous requested: Hello I saw you opened the request, could you do something super fluffly with max please?
Character(s): Max and Reader Summary: Since Max wasn’t going to make the first move, you take him by surprise and ask him out for coffee. Word Count: 1,509 Warning: None. Author’s Note: THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING MAX!!! He’s my bby so any type of fluff, I will take and give to him lol. I wanted to change it up and instead of Max going in and asking, I wanted the Reader to take initiative. So, I hope this suffices for the anon who requested this and I hope you enjoy as well! 🙂
Since starting your new job in
New York, you were struggling to find an apartment before the new school year. So,
when you stumbled upon Max’s apartment complex, you weren’t expecting a
beautiful apartment with an even more beautiful view to be affordable. You
certainly weren’t expecting your landlord to be extremely handsome as well.
Now that you settled into your
new apartment and the school year had begun, you were waiting for Max to make
his move. The two of you spent almost every night together by having dinner and
a glass of wine. He helped you cook, but there were some nights where he
brought the food. Regardless, you had grown feelings for him and you tried to
leave him subtle hints to let him know that you liked him. But, he never said anything. He never asked you out.
Instead, the dinners simply continued as if it was just two friends hanging out.
Today that was going to change.
Working as an English professor at a nearby community college allowed you to
have certain days off for national holidays. With Labor Day fast approaching,
you took this opportunity to ask Max out. If he wasn’t going to do it, then you
would take a risk and ask him out yourself.
You shared a bedroom with four other people, five beds stacked side to side, belongings all jumbled along the floor and every surface of the room. You hated it. You’d never realised how much you craved solitude until you had nothing but company, so now you sought it out whenever you could.
It had been several months since you’d found the place you called The Perch, a small nook nestled in the Sanctuary’s rooftop. One side was made up of old pipework, the other side offering panoramic views of where the road turned into woodland. You would have enjoyed the spot even without the view but the view made it that much sweeter especially on nights like this, when the moon was full and all the stars seemed to be shining.
It was 1am now and even though you liked to sleep here some nights most nights you just sat and read. Tonight was no different. So with the tiny flicker of your flashlight you lost yourself in a dog eared novel you’d read many times before.
You didn’t know what made you look up from the page, maybe it was a change in the wind or the creak of a misplaced noise but when you glanced down to where the dead were chained to the fence you spotted him. Rolling back a broken part of the chain link and sneaking away on hurried feet.
This wasn’t the first night you’d noticed Negan leaving the safety of the Sanctuary and all the other times had been much the same. He had no idea you could see him from high on your perch, the way he moved made it seem like he didn’t want anyone to, which was why you’d never told anyone about it, including Negan.
I NEED BOLD FONT BECAUSE CAPS IS NOT ENOUGH! Werewolf!Negan was always something I wanted to read and I loved that you decided to take on it. Like, favorite writer plus werewolf!Negan is the best thing that ever happened this month.
First, can I say that I always adore your “you” characters, they are always so captivating and grounded. They honestly feel like real people! People that I would love to have as friends and that I can root every second of the story.
“I don’t think you understand the fucking situation here sweetheart. I want nothing more than to tear your soft little body apart with my teeth, I wanna hear you scream, I wanna taste your life blood as it slips hot and sticky from your veins.” – WHY THIS IS SO SEXY?? WHY I want this bloodthirst!Negan, regular Negan tbh, to do bad things with me? I mean, you. lol Seriously, Bad Things by Jace Everett is playing on my mind right now.
He kissed you like you were his favorite flavour – I SHOULD SUE YOU OVER THIS!! You always come with these unexpected great lines that just leave me SHOOK, you know. It’s so gorgeous.
THE SMUT THO! I honestly don’t think I have enough words to describe how fucking sexy it was. I just need to volunteer to the Night Watch, so I can lay on ice for a lot of time until I recover from this story.
Summary: In this current day Avengers AU, you work as a profiler with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, leads a close-knit group of supervisory special agents as they track a killer. Characters in this chapter: Unnamed perpetrator, female reader, Brock Rumlow, Mrs. Fury, Steve Rogers, Dodger [yes, that Dodger] Characters mentioned: Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Stella Fury [Nick’s daughter] Pairing: Steve Rogers x plus size female reader, Bucky Barnes x Wanda Maximoff Word Count: 1,741 Warnings: Language, fat-shaming, talk of kidnapping and starvation [consider these three a warning for all chapters] Author’s Note: POV changes. SERIES MASTER LIST Any terminology mistakes are mine, and mine alone. Thank you to @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog@climbthatmooselikeatree and @dean-in-the-devils-trap . Without their help and influence, this fic would not have gotten written.
PREVIOUSLY ON THE PREDATOR’S OBSESSION:
“I think the question you’re actually searching for is what kind of person would do something like this,” you snapped, slapping a high definition, close-up picture onto the board. It wasn’t just any picture, it was Stella Fury. Wanda gasped loudly and bolted from the room. Bucky was quick on her heels, calling out for her to stop.
“Shit,” you gasped. Wanda was one of the most sensitive people you knew. Hurting her was the last thing you had wanted to do. With your head down, you pinched the bridge of your nose and shook your head. You went to round the desk, but Steve’s hand was on yours.
“Bucky’s got her, Y/N,” he breathed, brushing his thumb over the backside of your wrist.
You pulled in a shuddering breath and nodded. “Alright, let’s dive back in.”
4 MONTHS AGO
“Agent Rumlow,” Mrs. Fury greeted her husband’s colleague as she opened the front door. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Brock shook the rain from his jacket before stepping inside. “I just had a couple of follow-up questions. I do hope I’m not disturbing you.”
She gave a wave of her hand. “What else can I do to help?”
“Last time we spoke, you said that you hadn’t seen Stella for several months,” he spoke carefully. “Was that normal?”
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Fury answered. “Stella was a bit of a traveller, always wanted to visit new and exciting places.”
Brock nodded as he scribbled in his notepad. “And you didn’t know anything was wrong until…”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she sniffled. “No,” she quietly agreed. “Not until she… her body was identified.”
“Just one more thing, Mrs. Fury,” Brock promised. “Is there any chance I could get another look at her room? I just want to make sure nothing was overlooked.”
“Of course, agent. Take all the time you feel you need.”
The first thing you thought when you saw Merle Dixon was bald head. The second thing you thought, despite the bloody stump, was bald headed asshole.
You’d held out my hands and offered help, most people would thank their lucky stars when a nurse happened to walk by at the right time. In fact, a nurse walking by at the right time in the apocalypse was like a galaxy of lucky stars. Merle had taken one long look along your body and said, “now hold up a minute ‘ere sugar tits, how do I know y’aint tryin’ to take advantage of ol’ Merle?”
Yes, he’d meant advantage of his body and yes, you’d almost left him there to die right there and then but something had stopped you and it certainly wasn’t his sparkling personality. It was yours, you couldn’t do that to another person even if you’d seen the worst of humanity since the dead started walking.
This was so lovely! I adored how you write Merle, making such an nice asshole, and how easily you make the story flow and how you can translate the feelings so well in your work. It’s such a beautiful thing, that I really admire on you!
Deaf came inside to the smell of baking apples and cinnamon. He paused just inside the door and leaned against the frame, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of the scent. As he stood savoring the sweet and spicy air, a hand touched his chest, ran slowly up to his shoulder and around the back of his neck, gently pulling him down to soft, waiting lips. Deaf smiled and reached to pull his wife to him as he kissed her. “Apple pie,” he murmured. “My favorite.”
Joanna grinned and waited with her chin on his chest until he had opened his eyes again. “There are three. One’s for your parents, one’s for church, and one’s for us.” Deaf brushed his lips slowly across her forehead, smiling. “One’s almost cool. If you want a piece.”
“Of course.” Deaf kicked off his boots while Joanna went to get the knife to cut the pie. As he was shrugging out of his shirt to change into something less dusty, he peeked at her over his shoulder and grinned when he saw that she was starting to round out in the belly. They had been trying for children for a while now and this was the first time one had stuck this long. The miscarriages had been hard on both of them. “How are you feeling?” he asked. He returned to the table as Joanna was putting a plate of pie at his seat with a fork.
“Stiff and sore,” she admitted but she smiled. “And about ready to put my feet up for a while.”
Deaf nodded and jabbed his fork into the pie, taking his time about bringing it up to his nose, then tasting it: a crumbly crust perfectly baked, apples mingled with spices and sugar…and something else. Blinked and looked at Joanna, eyebrows arched in surprise. She grinned at him, obviously watching his face for his reaction. “Where did you get honey?”
“That’s why one’s for church,” she beamed. “Danny Greene brought me some. He said the bees had been all over our apple trees all spring, so it only seemed right.”
With a slow nod, Deaf savored the bite, then finished chewing and swallowed. “You make the best pie,” he sighed as he pushed the plate in a circle to take another bite. “Never thought anyone’d beat my grandma’s apple pie, but I think you did.”
“It’s her recipe,” chuckled Joanna. “I just added a few odds and ends.”
“Like honey,” Deaf grinned, “and cloves.”
“You tasted them!”
Deaf nodded with his fork in his mouth. “You think I’d forget? You’re the only one I know who puts cloves in with the cinnamon. It’s incredibly, my love. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Joanna smiled and stood to kiss his forehead tenderly.
ofdreamsanddragons 