this story contains adult content!!!! read at own risk. I glared at the vampire before me, pressing myself against the bars of my 'cage' before dropping the glare and offering him my sweetest grin, "once I get out of her I'm going to kill alllll of you!" I swept my arms out wide, my grin turning feral, "I'm going to rip out all of your throats and see how you like your blood being drained from your neck." The vampire flashed his fangs at me in an equally menacing grin, "you can try that all you want, after the auction." I was tempted to spit in his face but I really did not want to be whipped...again. ~~~ Calla, an 18 year old human girl has always lived her life on the run, but was captured by vampires and forced into auction at a high end 'pet shop' where any wealthy vampire can buy her and proceed to do as they please until they decide to kill her. Pessimistic, rude, and short fused Calla is one hell of a handful, one most vampier's don't want to bother with...until him. THIS SHIT IS RATED MATURE in case you were curious this isn't labeled Mature on the wattpad rating thing because it won't let me change my fucking maturity thing.

The world had gone to hell long ago, taken over by the vampire race. In order to keep some sort of peace in our land, the Vampire Lords made a consecutive agreement. The rich and powerful humans could survive just as they had been, untouched by the vampires save for the occasional blood collections, or so they thought In reality, we were all under their control. Castles spread out throughout our land, one landing in each city. Each castle varied in the number of vampires residing there, but all of them carried a Lord. The Lords were the ones in charge in every city, whether we liked it or not. The vampires often roam through the city, making sure that everyone was in order and no one stepped out of line. If you stepped out of line, you died, end of story. Even if the rich were still under their control, their lives were still better than the poor. The poorest lives held a much worse fate. The men were to be put to work as slaves, whether that meant serving a specific vampire, or just building their castles, they were slaves. The women were to be pets. Pets were the lowest rank you could have. They were forced into cages that were too small to stand in with collars around their necks. They spent their lives in pet shops, just waiting for the dreadful day that they'll be bought. They were treated like animals, trained into what their master wanted, and punished if they misbehaved. Those who were lucky enough to live through that, we're to be slaughtered for their blood at age twenty-five in an act to make sure that our population would stay steady. I was born into this world. Born into this world full of blood-sucking monsters. Except, I was one of the lucky ones. Was. It all ended for me when I was 12, when I was taken away from the last bit of hope and family that I had left. Ever since then, I've lived in a cage, just rotting away, waiting, dreading for the day that some monster would make me his. This is my life. I am a pet. ~~~ Cover by: @mshacake

"Say the word... and I'll ruin this friendship." "Right here. Right now." They said Slytherins don't fall in love. Blaize Zabini just didn't know how to stop. Blaise Zabini X Reader Best friends to Lovers

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN