she’s the one i’m runnin’ with
ship: dragonborn!sharon carter x reader
summary/request: the powerbroker finds a cute pet to keep her company.
word count: 1.1k
warnings: dark (18+), trafficking, forced pet play
a/n: this one goes out to britt @scarlettwlw
masterlist | monsterfucker celebration 2022 masterlist
Even though monsters have long since integrated into society, there are so many practices that the sensitive humans squirm too much over. That's where places like Madripoor's black markets come into play.
The crowds pack in like sardines even on a drizzly night like this. Humanoid creatures of all shapes and sizes mill around the various stalls. Most of them are here for sustenance - markets like this one are usually geared towards providing food that can't be found in human restaurants, whether that means rare plants that can only be harvested by Elvish tribes or raw meats that would make most humans retch at the thought of eating.
Madripoor, being the city that it is, features a lot more than street food in its markets. Shady deals of stolen and counterfeit items are constant every night, usually resulting in a fight at some point. You, an unlucky soul, are one of the few humans that populate this area of town. Not by choice. If you had a choice, you certainly wouldn't be caged up, displayed on a stall like a betta fish in a pet store.
Trafficking was always a risk you knew about when you came to Madripoor. Hell, even back in the States, there were shushed cases of it happening among the rich and powerful - humans and monsters alike. There was once a rumor of the CEO of the company you temped at taking in a half-orc.
Here, though, all your fellow kennel mates are humans. You've watched a few of them get picked up throughout the night, their cries muffled by the gags. The minotaur handler must've thought you were more agreeable, because he only muzzled you, which for a human was mostly for show, since you lacked the snout to be hindered by the small cage.
The corner of the market that your stall is in is a little out of the way of most of the bustle, so it's easy for you to scrutinize everyone who walks past. Some of the patrons stop by the kennels, asking the minotaur about the prices, then scoffing and walking away. You can't understand whatever language he's speaking, but by their reactions you assume you're a high value pet.
You sigh, glaring at the minotaur as he slaps your cage with a hearty laugh while talking to a gruff looking centaur. They stamp their hooves against the ground, clearly unsatisfied with the minotaur's refusal to lower his price. Suddenly, something shiny reflects the light of the rusty streetlamp into your eyes, and you sit up to avoid the glare.
A clawed finger reaches into your cage, and your eyes trail up the arm to make eye contact with a dragonborn. Her bronze scales are almost golden when the light hits them, and you see a softness in her eyes that makes you curiously lean towards her hand. She opens her mouth to speak to you, but you can't make out the words so she turns to the minotaur and asks a question, to which he just snorts and says the first word you've been able to make out all night, "English."
"Thank you," she nods before turning her attention back to you. "Hello, little thing. I'm surprised nobody's snatched a pretty pet like you up yet.”
Your mind swims with emotions at that word. Pet. The thought should make you upset or angry, but this dragonborn’s voice seems genuine. Her tone is gentle with you as she keeps her claws tucked into your cage, but more serious as she turns to the handler and again speaks in a language you don’t know.
Her claws are sharp, and you can smell smoke on them as you lean close to nudge the cage of your muzzle against them. Not an unusual scent for a dragonborn. Suddenly, she retracts her hand and the door of the cage swings open. You scoot backwards as the minotaur approaches you, but your fear is assuaged by the dragonborn nudging him out of the way.
“Let me. They’re my pet now after all, aren’t they?"
“Whatever you say, Powerbroker,” he snorts, turning away from the two of you. Your eyes widen as she leans in to guide you out of the cage. You reflexively wrap your arms around her neck as she lifts you with ease. Her scales feel hard and cool against your skin and you shiver.
There’s no point in fighting back. You’d be dead in seconds if you attempted that on these dark streets. So you let yourself be wrapped up in a blanket the Powerbroker buys from a stall a few paces down.
“That’s better, hm?” She bumps her snout against your head. You nod sheepishly, holding the blanket tight around you. Her face is so close that you can feel her warm breath against your skin, the sharp curve of her fangs prominent in your eyeline. “Let’s go home.”
You learn that her name is Sharon Carter, when you hear her personal driver refer to her as such. The ride is silent as you sit beside your new owner, head tugged gently but firmly into her lap as she scrolls through her phone. Her claws click angrily against the screen, and you curiously eye it, wondering what could be upsetting her.
“Nothing interesting for you, pet,” she ruffles your hair. “Just boring business.”
Sharon keeps her hand on your head, petting gently, for the rest of the ride. When you finally arrive at her home, she lets you explore on your own. Crawling around the house - you were scolded when you tried to stand - you inspect as much as you can. She has practically no items that appear personal in any way, a fact you assume has to do with her mysterious Powerbroker title.
You hear her call you to the kitchen, and you move quickly to avoid upsetting her, already desperate to please. Whatever she’s been cooking smells so much better than the food you’d been given while you were caged. You sit at her feet as she puts something in a bowl, setting it on the floor in front of you alongside a bowl of water.
“I hope you like this, pet,” she sounds hesitant for the first time. “We’ll figure out for sure what human foods are your favorites. But until then, try that.”
The bowl is full of steamed rice and some grilled chicken. While the chicken is a little burnt for your taste, you eagerly devour the entire bowl in record time. Embarrassment about eating on the floor takes backseat to how hungry you are.
Tummy full of dinner, you let Sharon pick you up and carry you to the couch and settle you on her lap. The blanket she bought earlier is draped over your body, and you sigh contentedly, eyes drooping with exhaustion.
“Go on to sleep, pet. We have a lot to talk about in the morning.”
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@gldnchiilds
MOST PEOPLE COULD TELL THAT HE WAS.. NOT FROM HERE. and yes, as of now - bucky was aware of that, but.. then again, he also didn't particularly care. then again, he also didn't care about it that much and.. no, he didn't see that changing anytime soon. he was a man out of time and a man who had been taken from where he was meant to be and.. no, he couldn't imagine why anyone would want anything to do with him. hell, most days ? it would be lucky if he even wanted anything to do with himself, that was for sure. right? that was still a step that he was very much trying to reach, even if he hadn't gotten there just yet. he hoped that he could, but.. one step at a time was the way to handle things, in order to be able to get to where he wanted to be. SOMEWHERE BETTER. a place where.. his head belonged to himself and to himself alone. pouring a whiskey - he had long requested the bottle for himself - he turned around, spotting a very familiar face. "ah! sharon carter, as i live and breath. what's with the look? is a guy not allowed to drink during the day?"
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