u/throwawayhoney1

Edith lives a simple, peaceful life. A young woman of nineteen years, she resides in a small fishing village along the cold, wet Northumbrian coast. One of ten and the only girl, she spends her time tending to the home with her nagging mother, fighting with her brothers and dreaming of more.

She is slim, pale, freckled; her hair is black and long and thick and her eyes are icy blue. A wide-eyed elfin sort of beauty.

She is also a rough and tumble tomboy, loud and cocky; marriage and children are usually far from her mind. What little Edith wants is *excitement*. Something other than scratchy linens to wear, fish to eat, and ugly farmboys to fumble with.

Viking raiders sacking her village was not the sort of excitement she had had in mind. But, nevertheless, they take her anyway. She’d been by the chicken coop. It had taken two of them to restrain her. If she was to die she’d want to die at least with the knowledge she’d done as much damage as she could.

They decided to spare her - mercifully, or not. And, despite what she’d anticipated, they hadn’t raped her. Kicking and screaming over a raider’s shoulder, it was hard to pretend the comments the two men exchanged weren’t perverted in nature, however. She, along with the handful of other women in the village of child-bearing age were rounded up, penned like sheep in the hold of a grand boat the likes of which she’d never seen.

During the journey, she’d eventually noticed him watching her on occasion.

He wasn’t the one who’d taken her. But he looked at her as though she was his property already. The men often took liberties with the captive women, jeering as they cried or wailed, did their best to make them feel scared for what was to come when they made port. But Edith never cried. She had come close. But when she’d noticed *him*, watching her with dark eyes, she did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her like that. If that was what a man like him would want of her, which she assumed he did.

Weeks later, they arrive. Skinnier and a little dirtier than before, the captives are once again herded onto land. The air feels different here, and it most certainly does not look like home.

She sees him again - still staring. Except this time, he speaks. She does not understand his foreign tongue but she does understand the sentiment of the words. Then he corrects himself in her own language, broken but clear.

“Come.”

______________

An age old tale - a young village maiden stolen away by a horde of Vikings!

Would be happy to make this as wholesome or as dark as you like. There is something appealing about a slow-burn unlikely romance with dubious consent leading into full willingness, with the two of them finding common ground despite everything.

Kinks: age gaps, size/strength differences, traditional gender roles, breeding/pregnancy, sexism/misogyny, pet names, dubcon, Stockholm syndrome

Limits: hard noncon, beast, watersports/scat

MOTHER NATURE.

She was everybody’s favourite Superhero. With a power set that was both inoffensive and useful, the masses appreciated her ability to control weather phenomena, rerouting tornados, stopping earthquakes, saving the forests, all the rest of it.

Brands clamoured to have her face represent their eco-friendly laundry detergent. The Government both appreciated her and studied her abilities in secret. If you turned on the 6PM news, you’d likely see her amongst the other members of a premier hero supergroup, waving and smiling.

With her tiny toned body in that ridiculous green spandex (little tits and hips wide enough to make up), that voluminous brunette blowout, a pale freckled baby face with disarming icy doe eyes and a crooked grin, she was truly America’s sweetheart.

What most didn’t know was behind the scenes, Poppy Dubois, Mother Nature, Goddess of Earth, was a spoilt, insufferable bitch.

She didn’t really care for saving anybody. It had taken a hefty paycheck to get her on board with any kind of Government agency. She was constantly blazed at midday or hungover ‘til noon. Petulant, whiney, spoiled, aware of her power and *very* happy to abuse it.

So, that begs the question… who’ll be first in the long line of frustrated men (and women) to finally snap?

A fellow Superhero on the team who’s sick to the back teeth of Nature and her backtalk?
Her big boss — the one in her earpiece who tries to keep her on a leash and only barely manages to?
A bad guy that silly stoned Nature underestimates and gets into a tangle with?

It’s only a matter of time before somebody does. She’s asking for it, really, with all that mouth (and ass).

_____________________

Thanks for reading this far!
If you’re interested, please feel free just to jump right in, with a little about your character included in your opening. I do prefer to work through things as we write, but if you have anything you’d like to flesh out first, let me know.

I’d be more than happy to have this take place in the Boys, Invincible or DCU worlds. If you’re down with that, just let me know who you’d like to play. I’m pretty open and chill.

Kinklist: brat taming, DD/lg, paternal/fatherly dynamics, hatefucking, pet names, teasing/mockery/condescension, size/height differences, age gaps, body hair on women, drug/alcohol use, manipulation, sleep play, foot play, choking, mild/moderate violence

Limits: scat, vore, shaved (down there) female characters, low-effort replies. 18+.

She was lonely. That was evident; in the way she carried herself, in the way her smile never quite reached the corner of her eyes.

At least that’s what the man who’d been watching her thought.

She was different from the rest of the lowlives he’d encountered throughout his life, in this pit of a city. There was something, something in the way she moved. Like the first beam of sunlight after the storm has passed. Warm.

Her name was Helena. She was twenty-six, childless, working as a waitress downtown. Her hair was long and dark and her bangs brushed her eyebrows. She was pale and elfin and wore dark colors and drank dark coffee. The cuticles of her nails were picked at. She votes Democrat. She likes Type-O Negative.

He, of course, knew this from keen, stealthy observation. She didn’t know him and he didn’t know her; not really.

Perhaps he’s a regular at the coffee shop she works at, or a commuter that has watched her on the train for some time. A neighbour, a one-time Uber driver with a fixation.

However he’s come to know her from afar, he’s decided it’s time to make an introduction. He’s lonely too.

——————————

A short one today. My guilty pleasure has always been the unhinged stalker/loner trope in fiction especially when it comes to men. Fight Club, Taxi Driver, Paul Dano’s Riddler - you know exactly what I’m talking about.

If we’re on the same page feel free to pick up where so left off. Tell me a little about your character - who he is, why and how he came to form this parasocial attachment, and how he decides to introduce himself. Maybe with an awkward introduction resulting in a toxic and destructive relationship? A more long term stalking dynamic, threatening phone calls and letters under the door? Or maybe straight up abduction is more your thing. That’s cool too.

Kinks: age gaps, height differences, dirty talk, breeding, misogyny/sexism, smoking, drug/alcohol use, DDLG dynamics, Stockholm syndrome, dubcon

Limits: hard BDSM, toilet stuff, foot stuff, animals

She was lonely. That was evident; in the way she carried herself, in the way her smile never quite reached the corner of her eyes.

At least that’s what the man who’d been watching her thought.

She was different from the rest of the lowlives he’d encountered throughout his life, in this pit of a city. There was something, something in the way she moved. Like the first beam of sunlight after the storm has passed. Warm.

Her name was Helena. She was twenty-six, childless, working as a waitress downtown. Her hair was long and dark and her bangs brushed her eyebrows. She was pale and elfin and wore dark colors and drank dark coffee. The cuticles of her nails were picked at. She votes Democrat. She likes Type-O Negative.

He, of course, knew this from keen, stealthy observation. She didn’t know him and he didn’t know her; not really.

Perhaps he’s a regular at the coffee shop she works at, or a commuter that has watched her on the train for some time. A neighbour, a one-time Uber driver with a fixation.

However he’s come to know her from afar, he’s decided it’s time to make an introduction. He’s lonely too.

——————————

A short one this evening. My guilty pleasure has always been the unhinged stalker/loner trope in fiction especially when it comes to men. Fight Club, Taxi Driver, Paul Dano’s Riddler - you know exactly what I’m talking about.

If we’re on the same page feel free to pick up where so left off. Tell me a little about your character - who he is, why and how he came to form this parasocial attachment, and how he decides to introduce himself. Maybe with an awkward introduction resulting in a toxic and destructive relationship? A more long term stalking dynamic, threatening phone calls and letters under the door? Or maybe straight up abduction is more your thing. That’s cool too.

Kinks: age gaps, height differences, dirty talk, breeding, misogyny/sexism, smoking, drug/alcohol use, DDLG dynamics, Stockholm syndrome, dubcon

Limits: hard BDSM, toilet stuff, foot stuff, animals

She was lonely. That was evident; in the way she carried herself, in the way her smile never quite reached the corner of her eyes.

At least that’s what the man who’d been watching her thought.

She was different from the rest of the lowlives he’d encountered throughout his life, in this pit of a city. There was something, something in the way she moved. Like the first beam of sunlight after the storm has passed. Warm.

Her name was Helena. She was twenty-six, childless, working as a waitress downtown. Her hair was long and dark and her bangs brushed her eyebrows. She was pale and elfin and wore dark colors and drank dark coffee. The cuticles of her nails were picked at. She votes Democrat. She likes Type-O Negative.

He, of course, knew this from keen, stealthy observation. She didn’t know him and he didn’t know her; not really.

Perhaps he’s a regular at the coffee shop she works at, or a commuter that has watched her on the train for some time. A neighbour, a one-time Uber driver with a fixation.

However he’s come to know her from afar, he’s decided it’s time to make an introduction. He’s lonely too.

——————————

A short one this evening. My guilty pleasure has always been the unhinged stalker/loner trope in fiction especially when it comes to men. Fight Club, Taxi Driver, Paul Dano’s Riddler - you know exactly what I’m talking about.

If we’re on the same page feel free to pick up where so left off. Tell me a little about your character - who he is, why and how he came to form this parasocial attachment, and how he decides to introduce himself. Maybe with an awkward introduction resulting in a toxic and destructive relationship? A more long term stalking dynamic, threatening phone calls and letters under the door? Or maybe straight up abduction is more your thing. That’s cool too.

Kinks: age gaps, height differences, dirty talk, breeding, misogyny/sexism, smoking, drug/alcohol use, DDLG dynamics, Stockholm syndrome, dubcon

Limits: hard BDSM, toilet stuff, foot stuff, animals

Her name was Betty.

She wasn’t like the other girls that worked their days and nights working the stage at The Big Easy - a strip club on a highway with vague mob connections that had seen better days. Betty was a dancer. She was young - couldn’t be older than 22 - and fresh-faced, very pretty in a freckled trailer park sort of way. Brunette curls, a round face, wide blue puppydog eyes and a wide smile with gap teeth. Skinny, lithe, with long limbs.

While none of the other girls knew where she came from they knew she was world weary and foul mouthed and, strangely, seemed to be at peace with her job. She tolerated the men that watched her dance. Even the old, dirty ones. Sometimes she had to holler for security, sure. But she kept herself safe - she had thus far.

To Betty, all of this was just life. Betty liked drugs, and she liked the life, the sleaze of it, but she had always had a feeling she’d make it out okay in the end even if she’d taken the hard path. Betty felt untouchable. Except when she didn’t, crying alone in her trailer at night wishing for more.

On the first day that you walk in and you see her, she’s wandering around on her stalkish legs, bruised knees and busted heels, swirling topless around a pole.

Betty isn’t another lost cause. She’s still got life in her eyes when they meet yours across the stage. She likes the look of you. And whether you’re a regular to that sort of company or not when Betty decides something it’s final.

————————-

I’d love to write a romance between an older and jaded man and a young trailer trash stripper. I imagine Betty as an intelligent young woman who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, who’s looking to do better by any means.

So, who are you? The options are endless. Are you the new owner of the club, or a friend of? An undercover FBI agent or a cop looking for a source or a plant or a tip, considering the club’s questionable ownership? A white-collar married asshole who can’t get enough of her?

Feel free to either carry on from where I left off or to reach out so we can discuss the wider plot. In terms of vibe, if you were curious, I’m thinking old Lana Del Rey songs, True Detective S1, long drunk sleepless nights, Netflix’s Ozark, toxicity, secrets, criminal activities, moral dubiousness and humid summer weather.

Kinks for this one: age gaps, size differences, DDLG dynamics, smoking/drug use, sugar daddy/paternal dynamics, wealth gaps, pseudo incest, outfit play, dirty talk

Limits: beast, scat, violence

If you’re interested, tell me your favourite song in your first message!

Mother Nature.

She was every Gen-Z’s favourite Superhero. With a power set that was both inoffensive and useful, the masses appreciated her ability to control weather phenomena, rerouting tornados, stopping earthquakes, saving the forests, all the rest of it.

Brands clamoured to have her face represent their eco-friendly laundry detergent. The Government both appreciated her and studied her. If you turned on the 6 o’clock news you’d likely see her amongst the other members of a premier hero supergroup, waving and smiling.

With her tiny toned body in that ridiculous green spandex (little tits and hips wide enough to make up), that voluminous brunette blowout, a pale freckled baby face with disarming icy doe eyes and a crooked grin, she was truly America’s sweetheart.

What most didn’t know was behind the scenes, Poppy Dubois, Mother Nature, Goddess of Earth, was a spoilt, insufferable bitch.

She didn’t really care for saving anybody. It had taken a hefty paycheck to get her on board with any kind of Government agency. She was constantly blazed at midday or hungover ‘til noon. Petulant, whiney, spoiled, aware of her power and *very* happy to abuse it.

So, that begs the question… who’ll be first in the long line of frustrated men (and women) to finally snap?

A fellow Superhero on the team who’s sick to the back teeth of Nature and her backtalk?
Her big boss — the one in her earpiece who tries to keep her on a leash and only barely manages to?
A bad guy that silly stoned Nature underestimates and gets into a tangle with?

It’s only a matter of time before somebody does. She’s asking for it, really, with all that mouth (and ass).

_____________________

Thanks for reading this far!
If you’re interested, please feel free just to jump right in, with a little about your character included in your opening. I do prefer to work through things as we write, but if you have anything you’d like to flesh out first, let me know.

I’d be more than happy to have this take place in the Boys, Invincible or DCU worlds. If you’re down with that, just let me know who you’d like to play. I’m pretty open to suggestions.

Kinklist: brat taming, DD/lg, paternal/fatherly dynamics, hatefucking, pet names, teasing/mockery/condescension, size/height differences, age gaps, body hair on women, drug/alcohol use, manipulation, sleep play, foot play, choking, mild/moderate violence

Limits: scat, vore, shaved (down there) female characters, low-effort replies. 18+.

If you haven’t had a response in a timely manner, please double message! My app is fucked.

Mother Nature.

She was every Gen-Z’s favourite Superhero. With a power set that was both inoffensive and useful, the masses appreciated her ability to control weather phenomena, rerouting tornados, stopping earthquakes, saving the forests, all the rest of it.

Brands clamoured to have her face represent their eco-friendly laundry detergent. The Government both appreciated her and studied her. If you turned on the 6 o’clock news you’d likely see her amongst the other members of a premier hero supergroup, waving and smiling.

With her tiny toned body in that ridiculous green spandex (little tits and hips wide enough to make up), that voluminous brunette blowout, a pale freckled baby face with disarming icy doe eyes and a crooked grin, she was truly America’s sweetheart.

What most didn’t know was behind the scenes, Poppy Dubois, Mother Nature, Goddess of Earth, was a spoilt, insufferable bitch.

She didn’t really care for saving anybody. It had taken a hefty paycheck to get her on board with any kind of Government agency. She was constantly blazed at midday or hungover ‘til noon. Petulant, whiney, spoiled, aware of her power and *very* happy to abuse it.

So, that begs the question… who’ll be first in the long line of frustrated men (and women) to finally snap?

A fellow Superhero on the team who’s sick to the back teeth of Nature and her backtalk?
Her big boss — the one in her earpiece who tries to keep her on a leash and only barely manages to?
A bad guy that silly stoned Nature underestimates and gets into a tangle with?

It’s only a matter of time before somebody does. She’s asking for it, really, with all that mouth (and ass).

_____________________

Thanks for reading this far!
If you’re interested, please feel free just to jump right in, with a little about your character included in your opening. I do prefer to work through things as we write, but if you have anything you’d like to flesh out first, let me know.

I’d be more than happy to have this take place in the Boys, Invincible or DCU worlds. If you’re down with that, just let me know who you’d like to play. I’m pretty open to suggestions.

Kinklist: brat taming, DD/lg, paternal/fatherly dynamics, hatefucking, pet names, teasing/mockery/condescension, size/height differences, age gaps, body hair on women, drug/alcohol use, manipulation, sleep play, foot play, choking, mild/moderate violence

Limits: scat, vore, shaved (down there) female characters, low-effort replies. 18+.

If you haven’t had a response in a timely manner, please double message! My app is fucked.

*MOTHER NATURE.*

She was every Gen-Z’s favourite Superhero. With a power set that was both inoffensive and useful, the masses appreciated her ability to control weather phenomena, rerouting tornados, stopping earthquakes, saving the forests, all the rest of it.

Brands clamoured to have her face represent their eco-friendly laundry detergent. The Government both appreciated her and studied her. If you turned on the 6 o’clock news you’d likely see her amongst the other members of a premier hero supergroup, waving and smiling.

With her tiny toned body in that ridiculous green spandex (little tits and hips wide enough to make up), that voluminous brunette blowout, a pale freckled baby face with disarming icy doe eyes and a crooked grin, she was truly America’s sweetheart.

What most didn’t know was behind the scenes, Poppy Dubois, Mother Nature, Goddess of Earth, was a spoilt, insufferable bitch.

She didn’t really care for saving anybody. It had taken a hefty paycheck to get her on board with any kind of Government agency. She was constantly blazed at midday or hungover ‘til noon. Petulant, whiney, spoiled, aware of her power and *very* happy to abuse it.

So, that begs the question… who’ll be first in the long line of frustrated men (and women) to finally snap?

A fellow Superhero on the team who’s sick to the back teeth of Nature and her backtalk?
Her big boss — the one in her earpiece who tries to keep her on a leash and only barely manages to?
A bad guy that silly stoned Nature underestimates and gets into a tangle with?

It’s only a matter of time before somebody does. She’s asking for it, really, with all that mouth (and ass).

_____________________

Thanks for reading this far!
If you’re interested, please feel free just to jump right in, with a little about your character included in your opening. I do prefer to work through things as we write, but if you have anything you’d like to flesh out first, let me know.

I’d be more than happy to have this take place in the Boys, Invincible or DCU worlds. If you’re down with that, just let me know who you’d like to play. I’m pretty open and chill.

Kinklist: brat taming, DD/lg, paternal/fatherly dynamics, hatefucking, pet names, teasing/mockery/condescension, size/height differences, age gaps, body hair on women, drug/alcohol use, manipulation, sleep play, foot play, choking, mild/moderate violence

Limits: scat, vore, shaved (down there) female characters, low-effort replies. 18+.

If you haven’t had a response in a timely manner, please double message! My app is fucked.