bound ankle


Susan Wright was born on the 24th of April, 1976, in Houston, Texas. She briefly worked as a topless dancer before finding employment as a restaurant waitress in Galveston. It was here that she met her future husband, Jeff Wright. The couple went on to have two children. 

 On the evening or 13 January, 2000, Susan tied Jeff to their bed. What he presumed was going to be an enjoyable night turned into a nightmare. When Jeff was immobilised, Susan stabbed him 193 times from head to toe with two different knifes. She then buried him in the back yard. In fact, Jeff had dug his own grave. He had dug a large hole on the patio which he planned on turning into a fish pond. The following day, Susan filed a domestic abuse report in order to get a restraining order against her deceased husband. She then came home and painted the entire bedroom in an attempt to conceal the grim crime. A couple of days later, Susan asked her attorney, Neal Davis, to come to her home where she confessed to the murder. The dog had partially unearthed his corpse and started to chew on his hand. Neckties were found tied around his wrists and his ankles were bound with a bathrobe sash. There was red wax on his buttocks, thigh, and genitals. Susan had stabbed Jeff with such force that the tip of the blade was discovered lodged in his skull.

Susan was pleading not guilty by reason of self-defence. Her defence attorney claimed that Susan had been suffering from physical and mental abuse at the hands of her husband for numerous years and that she killed him to protect herself and their children. Susan claimed she didn’t tie him to the bed but was in the bedroom when he came at her with a knife. Susan, who was 5'5", said she was able to overpower Jeff, who as 6'3" and 220lbs, and grab the knife from him and stab him over 100 times. The prosecution, however, contended that she was a scheming wife and that she killed him in the hopes of collecting a $200,000 life insurance policy. A friend of Jeff had once heard Susan berate him for filling out the forms incorrectly on the life insurance policy thus delaying the process. The prosecution admitted that Jeff wasn’t the perfect husband and that he had drug issues but contended he never harmed Susan or the children. In fact, they argued that Susan never once claimed he was abusive until after she killed him, adding that she only filed the domestic abuse report the day after his murder. 

The jury sided with the prosecution and Susan was sentenced to 25 years in prison which was later commuted to 20 years.

Hiraeth | Pt.13

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | pt.6 | pt.7 | pt.8 | pt.9 | pt.10 | pt.11 | pt.12 | pt.13 pt.14

Words: 5,388.

Genre: Zombie apocalypse au, angst.

Summary: A world full of dwindling hope and lost loves and yet you and Jungkook are all the other needs to feel at home.

Warning: Contains mature content (such as coarse language, violent themes, and intense subject matter).

A/N: This part was inspired by a scene in the series for The Maze Runner (I can’t say which scene for sake of spoilers but you’ll know).

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Needy Puppy

Originally posted by girlmeetsyoongismixtape

Genre: Smut

By: Admin Bean


Notes: Dog hybrid Au, mentions of heats, bondage, 

Words: 2,946

Summary: Your hybrid dog boyfriend is at your house when his heat starts unexpectedly, a few of the boys come to help restrain him and leave you two alone so you decide to help him out~

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Sam’s Reward

SPN FanFic

~Sometimes you need to flip the tables on your man…~

Sam x Reader

1,569 Words

Warnings: NSFW. PWP. Sub!(ish) Sam Smut! (he’s tied up) Just dirty, dirty smut.

A/N: This is a drunken tag-team effort between myself and my buddy Jess @wi-deangirl77​. We were chatting and this happened. Hope you enjoy ;)

He was just a little too long for the motel bed, but you made it work. With his legs and arms spread wide, he fit just fine. His navy striped tie held his wrists high above and the cuffs you’d lifted from Dean’s duffel had his ankles bound to the foot board. Thank God for old fashioned beds…

Although he knew he couldn’t move, he still tried.  His muscles bulging and twisting, and the light sheen of sweat that began to cover his body just added to that Greek God look.

He wasn’t one to submit, ever… but it had been a long day and you’d whispered promises every chance you got. He was more than ready to see what you could do. Ready to let you take control; ready to submit and let you play out your fantasy.

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Cold | Namjoon x Reader | Mafia! AU

Requested by anon:

mafia au, where namjoon is the leader and is closed off until he meets you, and someone takes you, like a rival gang, and just angst & fluff????

Hope this is what you wanted!

Originally posted by arkysal

When pedestrians saw Kim Namjoon walking in the street, they all perceived him in the same way. Tall, sharp suit, expensive watch: business man.

Occasionally, amiable - and brave - passers-by would offer him greetings, honouring customs, but he would never deign to reply. They all saw him the same: cold.

The people who worked for Namjoon saw him the same way, too: cold. As did the brave individuals who worked alongside him. But these select few knew the truth as to why Namjoon was so cold, and they thus could not blame him for his temperament.

You didn’t have to be a genius to know that being a notorious mafia leader was a tough job. To manage the position, you had to show no remorse, and not ever hesitate when things got gruesome.

Some people that knew the truth about Namjoon’s profession assumed that he acted so cold in order to intimidate his opposition. Others guessed that, after dealing with such violent and devious tasks for so long, Namjoon had truly lost the ability to feel emotion.

But his closest friends knew the truth - he was cold to protect something; no, not something, but someone.

To protect you.

Only a select few knew about you. And how dear you were to Namjoon. As his girlfriend, you were his one solace among his countless criminal tasks he fulfilled day in day out. His one sliver of normality and comfort in his dark world.

If he maintained his heartless façade, then his opposition would never discover his weakness - you - and no harm would ever come to you.

Keeping you safe was Namjoon’s one priority, and he prayed there would never come a day when he was not able to do that.

Unfortunately, his prayers were not answered.

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Need (Jaebum Oral Smut)

Sooo I know you guys are getting anxious and impatient with things but I promise I will get to writing soon. So this is for all of my followers but mostly @silhouetted-beauty ;))) she don’t even know I wrote it heh. BUT I hope you all love it <3

You had sat there shaking your legs as you looked at the male flaunt his stuff across the screen. Everything about him was pissing you off and making you extremely needy. How he was teasing, that damn smirk on his lips, the natural hair on the top of his lips that was subtle and not too much. He was sex on legs, his dark hair and broad shoulders. His flawless skin and deep brown eyes. Im Jaebum was your weakness and you knew that he knew so as well. You had been trying for the last past hour to sit cross legged and in different positions to calm the throb down there in between your other set of lips. You had decided to watch different little clips of Got7 a thing you occasionally liked to do whenever he wasn’t there but it seemed your body had other ideas.  Your mind screamed for you to look at anything else but your eyes trailed over to him every time. You told yourself to keep calm but your body screamed raw me with every step he took. Becoming more fed up with yourself and him you quickly jumped up from the couch storming into your room.

You didn’t have time to waste, not really thinking you moved around quick stripping out of your sleeping house clothes and changing into leggings and an oversized T-shirt that his name was plastered on the back of. Maybe you were a little biased but why shouldn’t you be? You and Jaebum had been dating for a couple of years now and at first you hated the idea of dating a celebrity but the more you fought the harder he tugged at you until you were in his world being taken completely with him. You were smitten but you had to admit you did love it. Snickering to yourself, you gripped at your phone and wallet quickly leaving your house. Hailing a cab because you didn’t trust yourself to drive you sat in the back looking out of the window. You didn’t know what you would do when you got there you just knew that you needed him at this moment. You didn’t even warn him about it, that was a risky move indeed but after what you kept envisioning in your mind you felt it would be beneficial for the both of you considering it had been a few days since you saw him. Once you got to the building you paid the driver and left walking into JYP building knowing the halls all too well. You moved to stand beside the door of the dance studio watching all the boys move around as Sign came on. You swore under your breath watching JB glide across the floor, he was so beautiful and your body screamed for him. Without a second thought, you stormed through the door causing all the members to freeze looking at you. The look on your face must have not been friendly because JB standing there with his ripped skinny jeans hanging low on his waist and gray shirt slick against his sweaty body had his eyebrows furrowed as he panted. Watching the sweat drip from his forehead and face to his neck and down to his body you shook your head slowly.

“Baby- “He started but you cut him up gripping at his wrist pulling him to you.

“We. Need to talk.” You said with annoyance in your voice dragging him away. You could hear the silent curses from all the members and how they whistled low in their throats. Your heart was hammering and your head was spinning, Jaebum wasn’t the type to take things like this laying down and you knew he was going to get your ass if you didn’t think quick. Leading him to one of the sound proof studio rooms you opened the door only to slam him against it with a shove of your hands. Jaebum glared at you, full of rage but before he could even get out a word you dropped to your knees frowning up at him.

“I need you.” You whimpered out slowly, your hand moving up to rub against his member. At first you couldn’t feel anything but the more you rubbed at his outline, the more you kissed with your lips and nuzzled with your face- slowly he got harder under your ministrations.

“I don’t have time!” Jaebum groaned knowing that he would be in so much trouble if anyone came looking for him but seeing you do such things after storming in there, he had to admit it was hot and he secretly loved when you did those things.

“I will be quick.” You left no more room for discussion this time. Your hands gripped at his jogging pants pulling it down not surprised that he didn’t have on any boxers. His dick stood hard and tall, proud against the fabric of his shirt. Your mouth watered instantly and you gripped at the base of his shaft pumping him slowly. Jaebum growled at you, his hips bucking lightly and he tried once again to reason with you.

“Y/n. Quit.” He barked gripping at your hands to pull you off him but you had other plans because the both of you knew he didn’t want you to stop. You flicked out your tongue to press it against the tip of his dick moaning softly. Your tongue ground up and down the slit of his shaft, your tongue swirling around the head slowly tapping his dick on your wet tongue and lips you looked at him with big eyes.

“Do you really want me to quit daddy? Do you really want to go to practice with a hard-on when I can use my wet warm walls to get you off?” You questioned wrapping your lips around his head. You could tell from his eyes he was livid but the moment your lips wrapped around his tip his resolve died down. Your mouth slowly sunk down onto his shaft sucking eagerly on everything as you watched him. Jaebum groaned rolling his head back letting his legs spread as wide as his bound ankles would let him go. You moved to nuzzle his nose against the base of his dick choking lightly but you took the burn for him. Pulling back slowly you moaned and slid your mouth back down bobbing your head at a slow pace letting your tongue swirl around his heated shaft. Jaebum was torn, wanting to be mad at you was one thing but when you did shit like this he couldn’t help but fall for you more and want to be with you forever. His hips started to slowly roll against your mouth, his hand at first was stroking through your locks of hair as he relished in the feeling of you sucking him off. You didn’t know what it was about tasting the male when you were needy, maybe it was how he moaned for you, how he cried out for more with a low groan. How his large hands stroked at your hair, or gripped at it for dear life. How he fucked your face until it was hurting and your eyes were brimming with tears. It got you off more than playing with yourself or you would’ve stayed at home to do that. Getting pulled out of your thoughts with Jaebum gripping at your hair harshly he tugged at the locks holding your head still his dark eyes looking down at you.

“I’m sorry baby girl, I know that you want to savor this but I need you to finish what you started and I’m limited on time.” He spoke in a deep voice filled with lust. He kept your head in place as he started to roll his hips forward sinking himself into your mouth repeatedly, listening to the wet sounds of him face fucking you. He loved how your face slowly became wrecked. He loved how the spit dripped down to your chin. He moved his hips roughly face against your face listening to the sounds of his balls slapping against your chin. A knock on the door had him cursing but he cleared his throat sliding you down until he hit the back of your throat cutting off your air hissing quietly. “You better learn how to breathe through your nose.”

“Jaebum. Is everything okay?” Jackson asked leaning against the door. Jaebum watched you fight against him causing him to pull your head back letting you catch air before he surged his hips forward slowly listening to the choking sounds and he knew Jackson could hear as well.

“Yeah man I’m good. Can you stall for me for a few more minutes? We are almost finished.” He spoke calmly as if what he was doing was not sinful.

“You got it man, just make it quick before you know who comes.” He spoke about their manger with a chuckle leaving the both of you by yourself.

Jaebum smirked before he looked back down at you slowly letting his hips build up speed until he was trying to pound at your throat, sinking himself as deep as possible. He saw your hand move down towards your leggings and he knew that you would try to cum so he shook his head speaking out.

“No baby girl. I’ll take care of you.” He said with a drip of lust in each word, your eyes locking together and you wondered how he would when you were rushed but prayed that a quick fucking session would be in store for later. Deciding to just it go, your hand moved to rest at your sides, and within a few minutes of him fucking your face. He smirked at his got closer to a release. “I’m going to cum baby girl. Are you ready?” He asked playfully knowing that you were taking it all. “I want you to swallow it all.” He grunted at his hips rolled against your face, your mouth hurt slightly and your throat felt on fire but you took it all for him. You could feel his dick pulsing against your tongue his veins popping out and the sweet and salty precum slid down your throat. Jaebum hips slowed down lightly until he was holding your head still. “Open your mouth.” He rasped and you did so keeping your mouth open as he pulled out. He pressed his dick back against your wet tongue. “Keep it open.” He made another command and you did so, allowing him to watch as his cock slid up and down your tongue until he was bucking his hips and cumming onto your tongue and some on your lips and face. You moaned in pleasure, feeling your nipples press hard against your bra, your panties were pretty much stained with the wetness that was slipping and seeping into them. He took deep breaths of air as he pulled back and released your hair causing your head to throb. He watched you play with his cum on your tongue and swallowed it before licking it off your face. He pulled up his jogging pants and the moment you got up he gripped at your arms and slammed you against the door gripping at your neck moving one hand down between your legs, rubbing at your pussy his hand gripping at your clit causing you to cry out and squirm.

“You’re such a dirty little slut. Look at you all worked up and shit.” He growled gripping at the fabric of your leggings ripping them open and damn near doing the same to your panties, trying to slip them to the side he plunged two fingers inside of you as he rubbed your clit. Your body was convulsing your hips bucked against his hand and you knew you were close but as soon as it started it ended. Jaebum pulled back to glare at you. “I never told you to react like this, or to be reckless. Needy or not you could’ve got us both in trouble and though I like it, I can’t let you think it’s okay to misbehave.” Jaebum stated pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. “You are to take a taxi home and wait for me you understand? If you cum or even start playing with yourself I swear punishment will be unmerciful. Now clean off your juices slut.” He pressed his fingers against your lips and you pouted but nodded sucking and licking off your juices smiling softly as your tongue wrapped around his fingers. He smirked pulling back as another knock sounded on the door. “I’m coming.” He barked.

“Well bitch I know you did but we need you to start helping us with the beats of this song again. We will be waiting in another studio that one is tainted.” Bambam called out as he walked off. Jaebum rolled his eyes but had a smirk on his lips letting your throat go he pulled you closer to him biting on your bottom lip as you sulked.

“I hope it was worth it.” He said softly nuzzling your noses together as he looked in your eyes, the promise that held in them for the rest of the night had you getting wetter all over and again.

@rootenist - I just reblogged your contest post (@tootenist) and I was wondering if you could do a fic where Spock and his s/o are on a diplomatic mission but the place they were going gets attacked and they get separated. Spock has to try and find her before whoever attacked them does. (If I did the contest thing wrong just ignore this 😅)

Word Count: 2544
Author’s Note: I took some liberties, and Spock and reader aren’t actually in a relationship. Yet ;) Also, I couldn’t find a definitive confirmation of the Vulcan word I used actually being canon, but I used it anyhow. And finally, this fic kinda got away from me, and is longer than anticipated. I’m sure you are all very disappointed in that. Uh, also, totally made up the aliens because sometimes new aliens are the easiest to vilify.

“I’m still not quite sure what we’re doing?” You asked as you fastened your safety belt in the shuttle.

“The Creatotians are extremely literal. They do not understand analogy, or symbolism at all. Jim assigned me to be the negotiator for the peace treaty between the two factions that are warring on Creatotia. He did not want to risk an agreement that was not clearly understood by both sides,” Spock explained.

“I know, I get that,” you replied. “What I don’t get is why I have to come?”

“You are the woman on board I am most comfortable with, and I am in need of a spouse,” Spock explained. You choked and stared at him.

“What?” You sputtered.

“Obviously, Y/N, we are not wed,” Spock clarified. “But the Creatotians were very clear about the parametres of what made an acceptable negotiator. And mated was one of the specifications. As I was qualified in all the other areas, the captain chose to blur the lines, so to speak, and hope they do not notice we are not, in fact, a couple.”

“So I fake being your wife, and we can be off this rock quickly?” You asked. Spock nodded slightly.

“That is the idea, Ashayem,” he agreed. “I am uncertain about how much the Creatotians know about Vulcans, but you should know that we are not as physically affectionate as humans.”

“I’ve been working with you for months now, Spock,” you countered. “I’d figured that out. But what about affectionate nicknames?”

“No.” Spock’s response was immediate. You laughed.

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Above and Below (Bellamy Blake x Reader)

Request: Hey :) Could you please write a Bellamy x reader where (Y/N) is a grounder and she’s been taught to hate both mountain people and sky people after living in fear of them. Things change when she encounters Bellamy and the two of them begin to fall for each other.

Originally posted by whateverbellamy

Growing up on earth was not easy. Falling for Bellamy Blake, on the other hand, was the easiest thing you’ve ever done. Your parents had raised you to believe that the people who resided on the mountain and lived in the sky were dangerous, evil beings out to harm you. Your whole village lived in constant fear that one day they would strike but as you look at the sky person caught in your animal trap, you start to think that maybe they were wrong. Very wrong.

“You don’t look dangerous.” You stare in wonder, tilting your head as he tries to wriggle free from the thick rope caught onto his ankles.

“Just wait until I get out of here.” He responds angrily, pulling on the rope fiercely. Walking up to him curiously, you put your spear down to look at him. He pauses when you crouch down closely, running your fingertips along his shoulders, touching the soft material. It’s nothing like the type of harsh rag-like clothing you’re used to. It’s odd. The myths told about sky people said they wear white armour with big, round glass helmets. This man definitely does not fit that description. The stories of sky people also told of their teeth being sharp and pointy, like thousands of knives protruding from their red gums. He tries to wriggle away when you place your hands on his lips, opening his mouth to examine his teeth. They look like yours - normal. 

Moving your hands from his mouth you look at him in confusion, “Who are you?” You ask angrily, reaching back for your spear as he sits up. 

“Bellamy.” He blinks, watching your hand grasp the weapon, “I’m from the sky.” 

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Characters – Dean x Reader

Summary – Dean’s been denying his feelings for a long time; what happens when a random run-in with strangers threatens the thing he loves the most?

Word Count – 3,994

Warnings – Attempted kidnapping, some feelings of self-doubt over being plus sized

A/N –Request by @luciisthebest: “…maybe just a one-shot based upon the song Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls with the reader and Dean, and how they hunt together and the reader loves Dean and is scared to show him etc…I forgot to add was that Dean at first rejected the reader cause he is also scared…”

Also written for an Anon request: “…I was wondering if you could do a DeanxPlusSizeReader fic? Where the girl loves and appreciates herself but may struggle a little like any other and have a few bad days. But Dean is always there to let her know how beautiful she is. Maybe where they already know each other, but dean realizes his love for her…”

Originally posted by sensitivehandsomeactionman

Your name: submit What is this?

Dean and Sam were going on a supply run into town.  They had several stops to make and wanted you to go along to make the entire trip go by faster.  You didn’t really want to go, but it was rare that the boys truly needed your help with something non-hunt related, so you felt bad about declining.

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;; Stolen ;;

Pairing: Paperhat

Prompt:  A continuation of the ff where others are offering to buy Flug, perhaps where he gets kidnapped by the guy who first offered to buy him? - anon

A shadow loomed from across the lab. Flug was almost sure his heart rate sped up at the sight of an unfamiliar figure in his lab. 

All of a sudden, a flash of memory struck him when the lights were turned on. A memory from the auction that happened three hours ago.

A man stood tall, chains linked around his fingers with a coil of rope slung over his shoulder. He stepped forward and cracked an evil grin, “Hello, Doctor.

Flug froze up and his eyes widened beneath his goggles, he swallowed nervously and backed away. 

The man came closer and reached toward him, his chuckling echoed off the walls when his hand gripped the scientist’s lab coat rather roughly.


The man gripped a hand around the doctor’s throat, squeezing tightly to ensure silence, “Shut up. You’re too loud.”

Chains were suddenly weighing the doctor’s torso and arms down. Rope bound his wrists together and his bag was ripped on the ground. However, he had his goggles still as a sense of security.

“You’re coming with me.”


“Excuse me?”

Flug took a deep breath as he cracked open his eyes. His mind was hazy, his lips were chapped and his mouth was dry and hoarse. 

There was a pretty lady with chains around her left ankle and wrist, binding them together to provide no room for escape.

Flug gulped nervously, trying to sit up. She ushered him back down and grabbed a nearby glass of water, “The master would like to meet you in his office in an hour.”


“Yes…” The girl was barely 10, “He’s the owner of this mansion, Master Forliff.”

Flug sighed and his brow furrowed at her, “Who are y-you?”

The girl merely smiled and tipped the glass to Flug’s lips, “My name is Loral. I’m his first daughter.”

Flug’s eyes widened at her and he sipped a little before talking again, “Why are y-you in chains?!”

“That’s a long story. Everyone in this mansion is in chains.”

Flug frowned and glanced at himself, there were chains bounding his ankles together like a prison and an iron ball was chained to his left wrist.

“The master was not sure how much strength you had.”

Flug groaned and sat up, taking the glass from her finger tips and sipping much from it. “I’m sorry, Doctor, but I had to put Ibuprofen in your water.”

Flug choked, sputtering as he glared harshly at the girl. “W-What?!”

“The master does not want you awake yet.”

Flug furrowed his brow at the girl and struggled to get up. As soon as he stood up, he felt light headed and his vision faded. 

He trudged towards the girl and simply fell onto his knees. What kind of evil was he stuck in now?


5.0.5.’s annoying pawing at his office door only furthered his irritation. “What is it, you annoying fur ball!”

Fives grabbed BH’s hand and dragged him to the lab, something he’d never do unless something was shouting trouble. When they arrived, the place was trashed.

Cabinets were open; potions and formulas were missing from the shelves where labels were scattered along the trim of the ground. 

The doctor’s work bench was a mess of ripped blueprints, chains, ropes, spilled acid, and his bag which was torn into shreds and left on the surface.

The demon’s eyes grew red and he let out a furious screech. “Fives, when did this happen?!”

The bear huddled to a nearby corner and pointed at a blood trail. This angered the demon more as he assured himself it could have been the attacker

When he smelled the trail of fine crimson liquid, it was indeed the scientist’s, “This was minutes ago…”


Flug groaned and shifted onto his side, lifting himself up on an elbow as he groggily blinked the sleep from his eyes.

He couldn’t form coherent words, his eyes were barely focusing on the world around him.

“You’re awake, Doctor Flug?” The man snickered in front of him.

Flug’s heart picked up and his held his breath when the man took his chin in between his index and thumb.

“I see… the drug is taken effect beautifully. My assistant designed this drug for me, she’s so obedient, right?”

Flug’s fluttered and he let his breathing go back to normal as the world went blurry around him.

“I need your knowledge, Doctor. You’re the world’s best scientist, Grade A plus, correct?”

Flug didn’t respond, his lips were numb and his tongue was the numbest of all. “Speak to me! You’re awake, damn it!”

He flinched and recoiled away from the man’s fingers, his other hand that wasn’t supporting him had flown to cover his face.

The villain frowned and stood up, “Pathetic. Mayweather, approach now!”

A tall, lean man entered the room with a stoic face. He furrowed his brow as the villain ordered him to cook something the Doctor had no knowledge of.

“It’s so nice that I didn’t have to go through the hassle of buying you and wasting money in case you were of no use to me.”

Flug furrowed his brow at the man and rose up, the chains clinking against one another.

The man rose from the side of the bed and stepped away, “After all, I can just murder you and stash you underground if you prove no use to me and my business.”

The little girl from earlier entered the room with a tea kettle and two tea cups. She held out the tray to her father and smiled, “I finished brewing it.”

He nodded and patted her head, “Good job, darling. We’ll be bursting with profits once Black Hat loses his production.”

The villain laughed loudly before calming down a bit and placing the tray on the bedside table, “You may leave now, Loral.”

She nodded and excused herself with a bow, closing the door calmly and continuing off to her chores.

The villain stood tall and smiled down at the scientist, “My name is Forliff, in case my daughter hasn’t told you yet. But you may call me… M a s t e r.

Flug frowned and glared at the man, “This is a prison… this isn’t a business.”

The man frowned and stepped closer, drawing his hand back. He was about to swing at Flug before Mayweatherstepped inside and cleared his throat.

Flug winced when the man glared harshly at him and stomped out of the room, “Mayweather, give him his new set of clothing and make sure he showers. He reeks of the demon.”

Flug flinched as the man came closer. Suddenly, the man cracked a smile and handed Flug a bag of freshly bought clothes.

Flug glanced at the price tag of the white, fresh clothes in the plastic. $105,068…

He glanced back at the man and smiled back. Mayweather nodded to him and left the room.

Flug followed cautiously, glancing around the corners they passed on their way to his destination.

Mayweather turned to him and opened a door, “Please, try not to anger the master too much… His very bi polar and short tempered, I do not wish to see another new face get thrown into the fiery pits of hell.”

Flug feverishly nodded and headed inside, thanking the man and thinking of his morbid words like a curse instead of a blessing.


Black Hat had just finished burning down a fifth client’s business building. He groaned and teleported back home, “Five Oh Five!”

The bear hustled forward with a frown and made a questioning noise. BH answered instantly, “I want you to go with that stupid lizard and search high and low in ALL of our client’s homes! The ones who attended the auction.”

The bear nodded feverishly and hurried off to find Dementia. The two left no later than five minutes after BH delivered orders.

Black Hat stood in the scientist’s lab and looked around for any clues. A small letter was found beneath the doctor’s blankets.

The note was coated with blood… However, on closer inspection, it was Cranberry tea.

The eldritch demon was thinking of a few clients he had tea parties with that were angry with his previous actions. Now a thought was coming on of who the mischievous asshole was.

Hello, demon scum,

I pretended to be your best seller! Your number one client! For twenty-eight fucking years. How dare you decline my offer of over a billion dollars for your scientist?!

A mere mortal human, that I would love to have some fun with nonetheless, that would match none of your powers?!

You will regret not giving me what I want for a high price.


the one you wish to find.

PS. Come to PeveStone Castle, the one you wrecked years ago and I rebuilt in honor of your demon scum being.

I’ll return your scientist… AFTER I finish breaking his mind first and using him to create something to destroy you and make me NUMBER ONE VILLAIN!


Flug stepped from the high-class shower with 5 shower heads. He pressed stop on the control panel next to the door and sighed in joy.

He inhaled deeply, that was his first shower in weeks. He could smell cherry blossoms and coffee radiating from his skin.

He hummed happily, if only this wasn’t his kidnapper’s home! He’d be so much MORE happier and at peace, if he came at his own will really.

He grabbed a towel from the towel rack and dabbed at his face, careful around the little scars of burned flesh and the long stitch along his cheek bones and bridge of his nose.

After cleaning off his face, he wrapped the towel around his torso and sighed. However, his peace didn’t last long when a little boy rushed into the enormous bathroom.

Flug flinched and glanced over his shoulder at the little boy. The boy smiled wide and ran forward, hugging the scientist at random. “You’re here to help fix him, right?”

Flug furrowed his brow in confusion, “Who?”

The boy smiled and nodded at Flug, “Follow me!!”

Flug tilted his head in slight thought and sighed, “Okay, after I get dressed though…”

The kid nodded and ran back out, “I’ll wait out here!”

This kidnapping was getting weirder and weirder…


BH sat at his desk, glancing over the list of client’s from the previous thirty years. There were only 5 clients that had stayed in his business, buying many of his products.

However, there was a certain client that had begun to buy more and more products after the scientist’s contract to BH’s business.

Was this a long-term fan of the doctor? BH groaned, he was hoping not.


Flug blushed just looking at himself, his mouth agape and he held his breath. He looked absolutely stunning and completely high class.

He wore a bright white button up with a black and white sweater vest over top. He wore a pair of matching white slacks that almost touched the floor.

However, he had yet to put on the iron cladded combat boots that were flashing white as well. As he tugged them on, the little boy ducked into the bathroom again.

When Flug glanced at the boy’s outfit, he noticed the uniform was classic and the same.

Pure white sweater vest over a button up with slacks or cloth pants and combat boots.

Flug finished pulling on the right boot and stood up. The little boy held out his white gloved hand, his other one holding onto a stuffed teddy bear with his head off.

He carefully reached out his hand and felt the boy wrap his smaller fingers around his larger ones. He let a smile tug at the corners of his lips as the boy led him into the hallway.

“My teddy is sick! He got some of his friends sick, too! I keep finding their heads all over my room floor.”

Flug nodded, “I’ll… um… I’ll s-see what I can do…”

The little kid glanced at him and grinned big, “Thanks, mister doctor!”

Flug smiled even more and nodded, “S-sure thing.”

As they reached closer to the kid’s room, he heard a little girl giggling with two more inside.

“That’s my sister, Loral.”

“Oh? I met her earlier. She seems very nice.”

The kid shook his head, “She’s mean to me, her and her friends. Their names are Fort and Nito.”

Flug just nodded and let the kid pull his hand away to open the big fashioned door. The three girls stopped with a chainsaw in their hands.

Flug’s eyes widened and he stepped forward, “What are you doing with that?! That’s really, t-truly dangerous!”

“Who’s the new butler, Loral?” The girl with black, long hair grinned.

“That’s Flug. He’s a scientist, not a butler, Nito!”

Nito frowned, “Aw, but he looks like a butler!!”

The other girl with an orange bob haircut spoke up, “I think he’s a butler, too. Order him to bring us tea, I want some tea.”

“Ooh! What flavor?” Nito smiled at Flug.

Flug stood in surprise at the three girls as they placed down the chainsaw and crowded around him, gripping at his slack pockets. He glanced at them all and stuttered a bit.

“Guys, he’s here to fix teddy!”

“You’re a fixer man, too?” Nito grinned.

Loral frowned at her brother, “Shut up, Litto!”

The three girls backed up when a tall figure loomed over Flug. Flug flinched when a booming voice erupted from behind him.

“Follow me, Doctor.”

The children frowned and bowed their heads, backing up further into the room.

Flug bit his lip nervously and turned, waving bye to them. They carefully waved back as the figure turned and began walking away.

Flug hesitated then followed after slowly.

———————–To Be Continued————————

Future Slave, Future Masterpiece

I learned everything about her.

I learned her habits and knew her nearly better than she knew herself.

I was a predator, and she was my prey. I smiled inwardly during one of my surveillance runs. I could see that she had a sense that she was being watched. We, humans, are the result of a long line of instincts. Some people pay attention more than others. Apparently, she did.

Not that it would save her.

I remained invisible as I stalked her, and her instincts weren’t going to save her. I was going to have her and there was nothing she could do about it, thanks to the long practice of doing what I do.

I could also see the arousal the thought of being stalked brought her. That was more proof of what I already knew, she was a whore.

I took my time, like always and I knew when she goes to the grocery, when she goes to work, and when she goes to the gym, especially the gym.

Due to her schedule, she always ends up late, and leaving even later.

She always comes out of there so tired, and not paying any attention to her surroundings. She feels safe there.

She came out, as usual, obviously tired. She’s hopped up on endorphins and I can see she’s happy about something. She’s on the phone, telling, someone, that she hit a new target of 150 pounds.

She was a little on the meatier side but I didn’t care. She had big tits, a nice face, and there was nothing about her weight that couldn’t be fixed by training…lots of training.

The parking lot has had some lighting issues, due to a little, modifying, of the wiring, by me. Nothing that would be connectable, just some loose connections that could easily be explained by faulty installation.

I’m ready to take my prize.

Sometimes she come out late because she lose track of time

She hangs up the phone and starts to put her key in the lock when her instincts kick in, again. She has just enough time to start to turn when my arm wraps tightly around her neck, and squeezes.

Almost instantly, I know she starts to feel lightheaded, somewhere in the back her mind she realizes that whoever is grabbing her is cutting off the blood to sher brain.

She instinctively tries to grab the arm and pull it away, but already she’s losing strength. She’s so disoriented she didn’t even think about screaming, not that it would have helped with my other hand over her mouth.

Just before her vision tunnels and the blackness completely overwhelms her she hears a voice, like it’s from a far distance say, “welcome to sher new life, pet.“


Consciousness comes slowly.

I can tell she’s cold, she tries to reach for something, probably the blankets, when she realizes she can’t move her hands. They’re up close to face, but she can feel the middle around them.

She instantly snaps awake, and ties to set up, I can see it when the blinding pressure and pain from her cunt and ass rips through her as she realizes there’s something stuffed in both her ass and cunt, filling her to the breaking point and beyond.

I know it’s agony. My past slaves have told me so.

Her terror mounts as she realizes her ankles are locked apart by a metal bar. Another metal bar attached to her wrists and attached to a collar around her neck. Most horrifyingly, I’m sure, she’s enduring all of this in total darkness as I’ve wrapped her head in a discipline helmet.

She screams, or at least tries to. I’m sure even she could tell that whatever was stuffed inside her mouth muffled the scream.

She screams, cries, and squirms for hours. I get hard just watching it, knowing that I’m going to be satisfying myself on her very soon. All the while feeling like she’s being torn apart. She has no sense of time; her mind is shutting down even as it plays tricks on her.

I can see the questions running through her, as I’ve heard them and seen it all before.

Where am I? Who has me? What is going to happen?

I’ve seen it all and the terror that comes with not knowing makes it all even more intoxicating for me.

Of course, there’s no doubt, given her nudity, that some of the answers are obvious, but like all the ones in the past I’m sure she’s still shying away from those answers; too scared to consciously consider the answers.

Finally, she stills and I can tell she heard something. Suddenly my hands are on her. She of course loses control completely; screaming and struggling with renewed energy, the sounds of muffled pleading and begging coming from being the gag.

I say nothing, there’s no point. She’s in no condition, mentally, to listen. She’s like a wild animal and needs to be treated like one. A show of total power and strength is all her mind will understand right now, so, with that in mind I lock on my hands around her throat, and squeeze.

I squeeze tight enough to nearly cut off all her air. For a minute she freaks out even more, but some part of her brain tells she that the only way she’s going to survive is to calm down.

By a Herculean effort, and strength she finally starts to do just that. I release my hand and then, with no words, begin to loosen the shackles around her ankles. I’m sure she has some form of hope, but I quickly quash it as I lock cuffs around her ankles attacked by a short chain. She knows, instinctively, that even if she wasn’t otherwise cuffed and could see, she still wouldn’t be able to run away.

I pull her to her feet and it’s at that moment that she realizes that while she was unconscious, I made some additions. I’m sure she probably felt some pain but hadn’t, till the moment I snapped the lead to the shiney new piercing, that I’d pierced both her nipples and her clit.

That  fact caused her to scream again, and I yanked, hard, to get her moving, increasing the volume of her screams. She quickly started shuffling along and I could hear the sounds of her weeping as she realized how fully I controlled her body. Not only had I stripped her, stuffed dildos into her, and bound her, but I’d also pierced her. In her mind, she was starting to realize that there was nothing that I couldn’t do to her and it was limited only by and it was limited only by my desires.

She was also starting to realize that she had no idea, what limits I had, if any.

I forced her to walk for what had to have felt like an eternity, blind and terrified. Finally, I stopped, but her situation wasn’t going to get any better as I forced her up on a platform. I loosened the bondage around her arms and then shackled them behind her quickly, then I bound her ankles wide, using leather cuffs.

Once that was done I forced her arms to the same place her ankles were cuffed. The effect was force her into a back bend that was probably well beyond anything she’d ever done before. The pain for this position starts quickly and just gets worse. Of course, I’m going to give her something else to think about, other than some back pain.

I deflate the dildos in her holes and she almost sighs in relief. I smile at that, as I know her relief will be short lived.

Again, without word, I begin whipping her tits, ass, and pussy. Her body explodes into motion and she yanks, hard, against the restraints but it’s pointless. All she can do is squirm, wiggle, and try to avoid the blows but between her bondage, and the helmet her efforts are symbolic at best.

I know, from discussions with other prey, that she just wants to know what I want. She’s thinking that if she just knows that, then maybe she can stop some of the pain.

Of course, she has no way of knowing that it is exactly that mindset that I want. I want her to be ready to do anything. First to stop the pain, but that’s just the beginning.

She has no way of knowing that this is just the first step in a long road to changing her. Breaking her, destroying her spirit, her will, and soul.

She has no way of knowing that she’s going to be rebuilt.

For now, she just knows the snap of the cane, and agony.

After a while I switch to whipping her on her ass and cunt. I need her to know that no part of her is safe. No part of her can be shielded from the pain I wish to inflict. She continues to squirm and struggle but I can already sense the shift in her efforts.

Finally, I stop the beating, but again I ensure her relief is short-lived as I suddenly hoist her into the air.

Now, she’s hanging by her wrist and ankles, the arch of her back even worse. She tries to squirm to find some relief, and her screaming gets louder again, as I decide to give her something else to think about. With that, I grab her hips, and after lining myself up I shove my cock into her cunt and begin the first of what will be many sessions of raping her.

Her cunt is warm, moist, and tight, just like I like it.

She screams and struggles, at this invasion, but of course it does no good. She’s helpless. That helplessness feeds her terror, her anger, and her humiliation, even as it feeds my lust. The result of all that struggling is her cunt is actually squeezing me even tighter, milking me, as if her body was already embracing it’s destiny.

At the same time, her brain is shutting down again, and her struggles are almost robotic. She can’t process the overload of what’s been happening to her nad her brain is trying to cope the best way it knows how, by trying to shield itself. By trying to pull away. That’s why I keep changing what I’m doing, I’m determined to not let her brain do that. I need to keep her in the moment, so I can destroy her defenses that much quicker.

In doing so, she feels even mroe vulnerable, more violated, and I’m sure at this point she’s probably praying to God for relief, for rescue, for anything.

They all do.

Of course, if anyone is listening they don’t care anymore than I do.

After I’ve fucked her for a while, and shot the first of many loads into her cunt,I lowered her back down to the table, her weeping at this point probably making it harder for she to breathe.

I don’t care about that at the moment, I know the tubes I placed in her nose will keep her breathing, even if will be a little restricted. I release her wrists and then attach them to the top of the helmet, forcing them up between her shoulder blades. The idea is to make things progressively worse, that way her mind starts to believe that, no matter how bad things are, they can always get worse. I also like this position because it gives me unfettered access to either fuck or whip her, and her hands are completely out of the way.

When I’m done, I just look at her for a while. I take my time, touching her body as I pleased, examing it like the meat it is. She’s gorgeous and knowing she’s finally mine puts a smile on my face that nearly splits it in two.

It’s only a few moments of this before my cock is rock hard again and I go back to raping her, only this time, in keeping with the training regimine of not giving her any chance to adapt, I shove my juice lubricated cock into her ass.

Again, she screams, and tries to resist and I hold on tightly, letting her sphincter spasm around my cock. The sensation is intoxicating and my cock feels like it’s being held in a velvet vice. I could blow a load right now, if I didn’t have better control.

She gives up teh fight much quicker than she did before, collapsing in on herself as she weeps in misery, anguish, fear, and humiliation. I can also sense the surrender to her situation, meaning her mind is starting to accept that she has no control.

That’s good, that’s the most important lesson I need to teach her, and the sooner she starts to learn it the better. It’s why I anally rape them so soon, I’ve found ass raping a cunt is a great start to that most important lesson.

Once I finish I then go right back to whipping her cunt, she screams beautifully, even under the hood and it keeps her off blaance, it keeps her confused. It also begins teaching her another important lesson, and whether she learns it right now, or later, doesn’t matter, as long as she learns that she’s only good for fucking and hurting, and if she’s not excellent at one, then she’ll be made to excel as the other. She’s a set of holes, and she’s going to learn, accept, and even embrace that lesson to the very core of her being. This will help her to learn that lesson more quickly.

Quick is exactly what I want, because, the quicker she learns it, the quicker she breaks.

The quicker she breaks, the quicker she can be trained and then sold.

After all, that’s why she’s here.

Finally satisfied with this lesson I leave her there to weep. I want her to wallow in the pain and marinate in the cum that I’ve filled her holes with.

Combined with the bondage, the blindness, and the pain, it’s as good as an acid, eating away at the very foundation of who she is.

Finally, I untie her, and lead her back to her little cell by her clit leash. She follows much more reluctantly, having no idea what I have instore for her next. In time, she’ll trust and follow the leash as well as any trained animal, as that’s what she’ll be. For now, she’s skittish and wild.

I get her back and once again lock her arms to the bar around her collar and again lock her ankles to the spreader bar, and stuff the dildos back in her holes.

It’s at that point that I, finally, begin to remove the helmet. I’m sure at this point it’s not the relief that it would have been earlier as by now she’s learned that anything that might inspire hope, should be feared.

I endeavor to keep this thought process going as, once the helmet is removed, she tries to look up into my face but I swiftly slap her for the effort. She tries again and gets the same.

By the third slap she’s figured it out without me saying a word and keeps her head down.

I set a stool down in front of her, and without a word stuff my cock into her mouth.

This is a test. I know the cock in her mouth must taste revolting considering it was just in her cunt and ass. I know the desire to fight, or to even try to bite will run through her mind. She doesn’t see it, but I have an insurance policy, just in case. I’ve had a few cunts over the years, amazingly, that did try to bite.

I made sure they regretted that for a long time.

But I’d learned, and so, out of sight, I’m holding a remote to the dildoes in her holes. The first sign of teeth and she gets enough voltage thru her lower holes to light up the room, and more than enough to make her scream, and release my member before she can do any damage.

I have nothing to worry about with her, as is typical, the memory of what she’s already endured is still fresh in her mind and she begins to shudder as her mind, unwillingly, starts to conjure up what she would suffer if she attempted such defiance.

For now, her brain is locked on only one thing, survival. So she struggles for a few moments, even chokes aand gags a little, but due to my unrelenting pressure on the back of her head, and the fear running through her entire body like a drug, eventually, she starts sucking like she was born to it, and I close my eyes and just enjoy the sensation. The power I have over her is unlike any drug known to man, and I revel in the feeling of that power.

I allow my mind to wander to all the things she’s going to endure. All the games I’m going to play as I lead her down the road to her total subjugation. I was made for this, and she was made to be a victim. We’ve both found our perfect place in the world.

I finally decide to finish after another few moments, shooting my load down her throat and I, finally, speak for the first time, "swallow it all, or else.”

She startles slightly, at the sound of my voice but does as commanded, desperately sucking my cock dry in a desperate effort to avoid doing anything that would force me to fulfill the threat in my voice.

Once she’s done, I move away, sitting in the chair, and simply studying her.  I’ve made a good catch, and she’ll bring a fine payment once she’s ready for sale.

She squirms under the intense perusal but she remembers to keep her eyes down, catching herself before she tries to look me in the eye.

I smile at that.

After what seems like an eternity I finally speak again, “your life as you knew it, is over. Forget about it. Forget your friends, your family, your life. It is gone. The person you were is dead. I have effectively ended that person’s existence.“

She looks at me horrified and I’m ready, with another quick slap.

I then continue, “as I said that person’s existence is gone, and in it’s place is slave. A slave that will never be called, ‘she’ or ‘I’ again. This slave is no longer an "I”. It is not a human being, not a person, not an American citizen. There are no rights here, no fairness, no equality. What is before me now, is an it. A thing. A sex-slave. A pain slut. A whore. Set of three holes for me to fuck and torture, and two tits in a pile of skin to torture as well.“

She begins to cry, “I will break it completely. Everything that it thinks it is now, will be destroyed. When I am finished it will do anything I tell it to do, regardless of what that is, without thought, or hesitation. It will do so because it will have learned that the alternative is so much worse. It will be the perfect slave.”

I then come over and grab her throat, forcing her eyes to meet mine, as I finish, “When I’m done with it, I will sell it, like a piece of property, because that’s what it is and always will be.”

She tries to hold my gaze, but falters quickly and looks down and away, the tears leaking from her eyes, “I’m going to go get some rest, I suggest it does the same, and comes to grips with the fact of its new reality. Welcome to the new life it will never escape.”

with that I stood, turned, and walked out of the room. I slammed the door shut and then quickly went to look at the camera.

She sat there in stunned silence for a moment, then lowered her head and begin to weep uncontrollably as she realized that there was nothing she could do to escape.

By now, she surely had no doubts that I would do exactly as I said I would. Her only hope, was rescue.

The problem there was that she had seen my confidence. It told she I’d, probably, done this before. If I’d not been caught then, there was a good chance I wouldn’t be caught now.

I’m sure she was trying to imagine her future, the bleakness of torture, rape, violation, humiliation, and destruction of everything she was, or, or would have been.

She was at this point, coming to grips with the harsh truth of my words: She was going to be a slave, it was a certainly that left no doubt in her mind that that was true.

As I watched her slip further into the depression all my new acquisitions initially fall into, and day turned to night I wondered if she was going to one of the ones that held onto the hope that when she was finally broken, she wouldn’t remember who she was, and what she had lost.

Sadly, for her, I always made sure that they did remembered right to the day of their sale. There was no fun if they didn’t remember what they were.

True, after they were sold and endured years of whatever further training and punishments they might endure with their new masters the slaves I had trained had most likely forgotten their old lives, if for no other reason than as a matter of survival.

While they were with me, however I wanted them to remember, it was just another layer in my sadistic nature. Making sure they endured everything, while remembering what had been stolen from them, but getting to the point that they didn’t care anymore. That was a truly broken slave.

I smiled at anticipation of that moment as I watched her try to find some comfortable position to fall asleep.

I watched until exhaustion finally overtook her and she fell into an uncomfortable sleep. I turned off the monitor and went to my own comfortable bed, looking forward to the dreams of all the things she was going to endure before I finally, and completely broke her.

She was soon going to be another one of my masterpieces.

Your Move

The nine times Simon and Baz prank each other and the one time they don’t

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

March 31


In hindsight, I probably should have expected a trap right away, from the moment I heard the voice. High and light and familiar, and shrill with fear.  Agatha.

           I’m running towards the Wavering Wood before I can take too much time to think about when I’ve last seen Agatha.  If I’d been thinking, I would have remembered seeing her at lunch and in classes, and that she’d only gone back to her room after lunch to grab a book or something, not into the Wood.  But here I am, following her voice, summoning the Sword of Mages as I run.  Because what if?

           “Agatha, where are you?”


           “Where are you?”


           I always thought that monster attacks only happened deep in the Wood, if you stumbled into a lair or something, not that they would seek people out, and not this close to the edge of the Wood.

           But apparently I’m wrong.  

           Because before I’m even four trees into the shadows, something explodes against the back of my head and I drop like a stone.


           When I come to I’m face-down in the dirt and something with deft fingers is securing the knots in the ropes around my wrists. I start to thrash and find my ankles bound as well, and I receive another smack in the head, which almost has me losing consciousness again.  I wait for the stars to pass from my vision and go still, even though every part of me wants to kick, fight, escape.  Instead I listen.

           Whatever has its foot on my back (at least I think it’s a foot) is human-shaped, but that is not to say that it is human.  It has long, spindly fingers that seem to shake as they tie.  It breathes loudly and quickly, like it’s in a hurry.  I hear a twig crack to my left, a little way off.  Something else is here.      

           “There you have it, then.”

           The voice is cool and familiar, and my heart sinks like a stone.

           “As you said,” comes another voice, this time from the creature on my back.  It’s gravelly and high like nails on glass.

           “I didn’t lie.”

           “You did.”


           “You said you required no payment,” the higher voice hisses like it’s smiling.

           “I stand by the statement.”

           “Then you’re either lying, or you’re a fool.”

           “A fool how?”

           “A fool to come here.”

           There’s a dull thud, and then the crunch of the leaves as the body hits the forest floor.  I want to turn my head and look, but I can’t reveal that I’m conscious.

           The harsh, loud breathing continues, this time scuttling around to my left, no doubt tying another set of wrists and ankles.

           Something crawls across my hands, maybe a spider, and I shake it off without thinking.

           I can actually feel it when the creature catches me moving.

           “Nighty-night,” it sings in Agatha’s voice before its foot connects with my head and everything goes black.


I don’t open my eyes right away when I wake up, my head aches too much.  Like there’s a needle from one temple through to the other.

           I feel something shift against my back there’s the stink of sweat and long-dead meat.  The air is cold and damp and for a minute I think I’m in the catacombs.

           Then I remember.

           I open my eyes slowly and to my relief there’s no blinding light to aggravate my headache.  I’m staring at my navel, and I’m in a sitting position, my back against something warm and solid.  Rope stings my wrists and when I lift my head I see it wrapped around my torso and ankles as well.  The ground around me is cold stone and scattered with bones and tiny, sharp rocks. Moisture trickles down the stone walls, patchy with moss and spider webs.

           A cave.  It’s brought me to its cave.

           And not just me.

           Snow shifts against my back again and I have to roll my eyes, even though it burns.  It tied us together.  Figures.

           “Waking up, are we?” comes the goblin’s rasping voice from behind me.  I don’t turn my head to look at it, I already know what it looks like.  Short, pale, gaunt and wide-eyed, with graying brown hair in a mess on the top of its head.  An old-looking suit that’s covered in mud and bits of dried-on… well, let’s just say that goblins aren’t elegant diners.

           “Let us go,” Snow growls at it, and I can picture his defiant glare.  It’s been directed at me more than once.  It’s actually kind of cute, if I weren’t so often on the receiving end, I’d turn to mush inside.  As it is, I can’t help but smile a little.  Stupid, brave Snow.  No wonder he’s the Mage’s Heir.

           “Why in the name of magic would I do that?” the goblin laughs.  “Look at me. Look at you.  You’re not just any old snack, are you?  You’re the Mage’s Heir.”

           “Which is exactly why you should let us go before you get hurt.”

           “You’re not going to kill me.”

           “That so?  Why not?”

           “Because I’m not going to kill you.”

           I can almost feel Snow balk in confusion.

           “Not yet, anyway.  I’ll say it again: you’re the Mage’s Heir,” the goblin goes on, “and do you know what happens to the lucky goblin who kills the Mage’s Heir?”

           Snow doesn’t say it out loud, but he knows.  I know.

           “So why wait until now to attack?” Snow questions.

           “Unfortunately, your little school has some pretty strong magical defenses.  I couldn’t get close enough until someone let me through.  You can thank your little friend for that.”

           I grit my teeth and don’t say anything.

           “Why not just kill us now, then?” Snow spits. “You’ve got us where you want us.”

           “Ah, but who would that convince?” the goblin chuckles.  “Anyone could claim to have killed you, and believe me, many have tried.  No, a simple claim won’t do.  You’re coming with me to the goblin court, where I will kill you, and your meddling friend, in front of many witnesses, and no one will be able to deny that I have killed the Mage’s Heir.”

           “And you’ll become the Goblin King,” Snow finishes.

           “As is my right.”

           “You won’t get away with it.”  I roll my eyes again at the cliché.

           “Spare me the theatrics,” the goblin groans and I hear the flick of a switchblade.  Snow cries out in pain and jerks back, his head hitting mine and my eyes explode again. A scent fills the air, familiar and terrifying.  Blood. His blood.

           It’s a good thing he can’t see me because my fangs pop instantly at the smell.

           Snow yells again and I don’t know what the goblin is doing to him but it’s making my stomach sick.

           “Stop,” I growl.

           Snow gives a gasp of pain and the smell of his blood grows stronger.

           “I said, stop.”  This time I shout.


The goblin stops, leaving me to pant away the sting of its knife in my shin.  My head is pounding from the many blows in the past half-hour (maybe more, I don’t know how long I was out after the kick) and blood trickles down my cheek to my neck.

           I don’t know if Baz is trembling against my back, or if it’s me doing the trembling.

           The goblin pockets the switchblade and turns its attentions on Baz, kneeling beside him and speaking close to his ear.

           “What’s wrong?” it sneers.  “Don’t like the smell?”  It drags a grimy finger across the cut on my cheek and waves my blood in Baz’s face.  I feel him go tense and still, like he’s holding his breath.

           “I’m surprised at you, boy,” the goblin continues, “weren’t you the one who set all this up?  And now you don’t want me to hurt him?”

           “Just leave him alone,” Baz seethes.

           “Make up your mind,” the goblin tells him.  “Or would you rather I paid you more attention?” There’s a crackle and I turn my head to see the tiny fireball the goblin has conjured in its hand.

           I’m feeling more and more sure that Baz is a vampire by the minute, because even though he’s obviously trying not to react, he shrinks back from the flame automatically.  If so much as a spark hits his skin…

           “Get away from him,” I spit at the creature, “it’s me you want.”

           “And it always has to be about you,” Baz pipes up, sarcastic to the last.

           The goblin stares at me for a long second before extinguishing the fireball in its fist and standing up again.

           “You boys will want to get some rest,” it says, “we’ll be leaving at sundown.”


Goblins are nocturnal creatures, and this one has been up pretty late in the day, so it doesn’t take long for the wretched thing to fall asleep.  Somehow it doesn’t look as peaceful in its sleep as Snow always does.

           “Alright Baz?” Snow whispers to me.

           “What the fuck are you asking me that for?”

           “Thought I’d try some compassion, since we’re in the same situation, but clearly it’s a waste of my time.  Fuck you.”





           “Your move.”

           I feel him whip his head around.  “You have got to be joking.”

           “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

           “This is your idea of a practical joke?” he asks incredulously.  “Selling me out to a goblin?  And where does your own capture play into this brilliant plan?”

           “It doesn’t,” I admit, “I was going to kill it before it could do you any real harm.”    


           “I thought so.”

           “It’s not even your turn, you twat.”    

           “Thought I’d go for the element of surprise. Besides, you haven’t made your move yet today.”

           “Clearly you haven’t checked your closet yet.”

           My head drops forward and I sigh.  “Great.”

           “Don’t mention it.”

           “Seriously though, you’ve been slacking off.  Where were you on Monday?”

           He doesn’t answer.


           “I heard you.”

           “Well, then?”

           A defeated sigh.

           “You know those terrible nightmares you had that night?”


It takes a second for the penny to drop, but when it does it’s louder than a bomb.


           “It wasn’t supposed to go that far.”

           “You cursed me into having nightmares?”  He sounds angry enough to burst into flames, which I’m not convinced he couldn’t actually do if he lost control.

           “It was an accident.”

           “So you just accidentally formulated a curse to attack me in my sleep.”

           “You were only supposed to have minor nightmares,” I insist, “not start yelling in terror.”

           “Sorry,” he snarls, “did I keep you up?”

           “That’s not what I mean.”

           “I cannot fucking believe you.”

           “You took my voice,” I shoot back, unable to keep the childish defensiveness out of my whisper.  “That’s practically unforgiveable.  And now you’ve almost gotten both of us killed, and you didn’t even know that I was responsible for the nightmares.”

           “The moment we’re out of this cave, you are dead.”


           “So if you wanted me to have nightmares, why did you wake me up?  Why not just let me suffer?”

           “Because you were terrified, Baz,” I say like it should be obvious.  “You were crying out for your mum and it was awful.”

           He’s quiet for a second before replying. “What else was I calling out for?”


           “Nothing.  You just kept saying ‘no’ a lot.”

           Baz lets out a long, shuddering sigh like everything he dreamt about is rushing back.  They must have been some of the worst nightmares of his life the way he’s reacting.

           I should have held him.  I should have comforted him.  I wanted to comfort him.  But I didn’t.  Because I was too proud.  I was too scared.

           I want to comfort him now, but we’re tied up. That and he’d probably vaporize me if I tried.

           “I’m sorry.”


           I take a deep breath.  “It was wrong of me to give you nightmares.  I should have known better, or I should have told you that it was me, I…” I’m almost too afraid to say it in a register that he’ll hear. “I’m sorry, Baz.”

           He’s quiet for a long time.


           “Don’t expect me to forgive you.”

           “I don’t.”


           “But thank you.”



           I breathe a sigh of relief.


“So,” Simon ventures after a heavy moment, “what now?”

           “We wait for the goblin to kill us.”

           “Yeah, right.”  I can practically hear his eye-roll.  “We need to get out of here.”

           “Any ideas?”


           “Let’s hear it.”

           “We’ll need to work together.”

           Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.  “How inspiring, Snow, I thought you said you had a plan.”

           “Any plan we come up with is going to require teamwork,” he explains in a whisper.  “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re literally tied to each other.”

           “I had noticed, thanks.”

           “So, we’ll have to work together to get out.”

           “You have a sword,” I reason, “can’t you use it to cut us free?”

           “I can’t summon it without spearing you,” he says, “it would appear in my hand, the blade would probably end up in your stomach.”

           Two birds with one stone, my mind supplies darkly, but I push the thought away. “Maybe I could burn through the ropes.”

           “Yeah, and send us both up in flame.  Great idea.”

           “Got anything better?”

           “Where’s your wand?”

           “Back pocket.”

           “Can you reach it?”

           “If I could, we’d already be out of here.”

           “If I can get it to you, could you spell the ropes off?”

           “Any chance to get your hands on my arse, eh Snow?”

           “Fuck off.”

           “Yes, I could spell the ropes off.”

           “Alright, what then?  Sneak out?”

           I cast a glance at the sleeping goblin. “Not until we deal with Goblin King over here.”

           “You have a plan?”

           A grin spreads across my face.  “Oh, I have a plan.”


Baz insists that I make a noisy show of escaping, to wake the goblin.  Why he would want to do that, I can’t imagine (he hasn’t told me all of the plan, which should probably make me suspicious), but he seems to be getting more excited about whatever he’s going to do by the second.  The smirk I’m so familiar with is glued to his face, but instead of making me feel sick, I’m buzzing like I’ve had too much sugar. Maybe because he’s not directing it at me this time, but sharing it with me.

           I have to wonder why we’ve never teamed up before.  Granted, we’re usually at each other’s throats, but something about this, the working together, the shaky alliance, is making me giddy.  I’m almost giggling as I throw the ropes to the cave floor.

           Baz has already disappeared from view as the goblin wakes up, turning to find me frozen on my way to the cave entrance.

           “Where do you think you’re going?” it sneers.

           “Goblins,” I shake my head, “you really are as stupid as they say.”

           The goblin pulls its blade from its pocket again, but doesn’t respond with any more than a growl.

           “You see,” I go on, “you were smart to take us both.”

           I can’t help but watch Baz as he appears behind the creature, silent as a wraith.

           “But you were a fool,” I grin, “to leave us both alive.”

           A flame appears in Baz’s hand.  In a flash he wraps an arm around the creature’s neck and shoves the fireball into its open mouth.

           Its eyes widen and steam pours out of its ears as the fireball takes the path of least resistance: right down the throat. The human illusion starts to disintegrate and I see flashes of the goblin’s true face, gray and leathery with red eyes and sagging, pointed ears.  It struggles but Baz holds on tight, until the thrashing stops and the goblin droops in his arms, and he drops it, limp and smoking, to the ground.

           He hasn’t looked away from me the entire time.

           I haven’t looked away from him.


It’s still light outside when we emerge from the cave, but we’re clearly much deeper into the Wood than before.  I don’t recognize anything.

           “Hang on, I’ll climb a tree and get our bearings,” I tell Simon.

           He gives me a quizzical look and unfurls his wings without a word.

           I shrug and take my place at the bottom of a tree.  “I bet I could still beat you.”

           “Come off it.”

           “You haven’t seen me climb a tree.”

           “And you haven’t seen me fly.”

           We stare each other down for a second, tasting this new dynamic.  Still rivalry, but different.  Less hateful, more fun.

           I leap into the tree without warning.

           I can see his eyes widen as he takes in my speed, and he kicks off the ground an instant later, but we reach the halfway point around the same time.  He beats me by seconds, perching at the top like a bird while I scramble to the branch below him.

           “See anything?” I ask, catching my breath.

           He scans for a moment before pointing behind us. “There’s Watford.  Not a bad view from here,” he says as I climb up a branch to meet his level, “we should climb trees more often.”

           I peer the few inches up at him, a strange expression on my face.  “We?”

           Simon meets my gaze suddenly, like he’s realized what he’s said.  “I, um… well, whatever,” he stammers.

           Is his face going red from flying?  Or from…

           I’m not used to looking up to meet his eyes, and he’s not usually framed by the pure white sky and the smell of pine and mountain air.

           I’m not used to him looking at me the way he is now.


I’m not used to being this close to Baz, or holding his gaze for this long, or letting down my guard with him, or seeing him framed by pine branches and treetops, or wanting to touch his hair…


There’s a fresh scar on his cheek from the goblin’s blade.


His hair is black again, and I still want to touch it.


His lips part slightly, and my heart stops entirely.


I don’t know what I’m doing.

But I lean in…


I’m just closing my eyes as the bough breaks beneath me and I fall through the branches.


He only falls about halfway down, but he hits just about every branch on the way.  I jump from my perch and dive after him, grabbing onto a limb where he stops his descent, groaning.

           “You alright?”

           “Perfect, thanks Snow.”

           We both climb the rest of the way down and head back towards the castle.  We don’t speak, and my head is still spinning with everything that’s just happened, not to mention what’s almost happened.

           “So,” I venture, “who’s turn is it again?”

           Baz shrugs.  “Tomorrow’s the first of April.”

           “I know.”

           We look at each other for a moment.

           “Fair game?” I suggest.

           He nods.  “Fair game.”

           We walk another few minutes in silence.

           “So, you’re not going to kill me for the nightmares then?”

           Baz shoots me a sideways glance, but he’s smiling. A real smile, not a sneer. Genuine.

           “Not today.”

| The Coven - Jongdae X Reader AU Series - Prologue |

Collaborative Series with @exosmutxoxo & @nunchiwrites

Vampire!Kim Jongdae X Reader

Genre: Action, thriller, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of abuse and sexual abuse, (future) smut

Word Count: 1,150

Allow me to set the mood…

You were barely breathing- a lifeless shell of a human being, left to stain the stone floors with your blood and tears. 

Wrists and ankles bound. Gagged. Blindfolded. 

The only sense you were spared amidst the murky darkness of the cellar was your hearing. Your ears were met with the soft, all-too-familiar rasps and muffled cries that came from your fellow female captives. None of the others were bound like you were, however. You knew that they wanted to comfort you, to free the itchy bindings from your raw skin. But you were painfully familiar with the consequences they would face if any one of them interfered. You knew how this was going to work, just as it did at any of the town’s other whorehouses.

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saerehrys  asked:

Hi Lovely! About the Nessian request just choose I love your writing so much anything you'll write will make me so happy!! Also please no nessian angst 😚💖

“We can’t keep doing this.” >:)

“Shit,” Nesta curses, collapsing backward on the hard floor. “That was-”

“I know,” Cassian says. “Brutal.”

‘Intense’ was the word Nesta was going to use, but she supposes brutal works just as well. Between pants of breath, Nesta gulps and manages to spit out, “I think that’s the fastest we’ve ever-”

“Definitely.” There’s no doubt in Cassian’s strained voice as he falls back next to her breathing hard.

Nesta groans. It feels so nice to stretch out properly after so long spent contorted in that pose. She turns her head side to side slowly rolling out most of the tension that collected in her neck. The only thing more sore is her feet. She’s not sure when or how (she thought she’d been paying pretty good attention), but at some point, one of the cords they’d been using was bound up around her ankles and the pressure had hurt like a bitch. But she had to fight through it.

Looking over at Cassian, he seems equally put out. Now that he doesn’t have such a death grip, his hands are shaking. And she can see the faint bruise on his shoulder from where she’d smacked him when he’d used the banana on her - Prick. But it had been an effective move, she supposed, getting him exactly what he wanted in the end.

“Damn,” Cassian says looking ahead of them. Nesta follows his gaze and squirms. “I think you should blow it for me again, sweetheart.”

“I’ve done it three times already!”

“One more for luck.”


Cassian snickers and gets up to remove the Mario Kart cartridge out of the N64. It’s an old unit, nothing like the modern systems most people prefer, but it works just great for the pair of them save for the occasional screw up in the wiring.

Nesta takes the cartridge from Cassian and blows through the underside to clean it out while he grins. “I want Peach again,” he declares. She merely shoves the cartridge back at his chest.

Nesta sighs as she hears the familiar theme music begin to play.

“Bowser Castle or Koopa Koopa Beach?” Cassian asks, before his excitement gets the better of him and he picks anyway. Nesta unravels the cord to the controller from around her feet and sits back up already feeling the itch to send about a dozen shells at Peach’s kart.

3… 2… 1… Go!

“We can’t keep doing this,” she sighs.

Send me a prompt + otp or brotp (crack or canon) and I’ll write a drabble!

↠ that fear fever | (m)

pairing: seokjin x reader
dom!jin, edge play, knife play, breath play, dirty talk

↠  who would have expected Kim Seokjin to have such a dark side to him - but you are more than happy to find out first hand.

Originally posted by someasianaddict

shall i compare thee to a summer’s day?

That is what comes to mind when you think about Kim Seokjin. A summer’s day truly is what he feels like to you. A warmth that seeps deep into your bones, fills you with contentment, with waves of peace clashing over your head, drowning you in serenity . He emits a simpatico that lulls you into a state of comfort and quite frankly, gives you a sensation of home wherever you go with him at your side.

He is childish yet in a grown way that makes juvenile jokes seems all the more alluring with the knowledge in mind that it comes from the carefree spirit of a mature soul fully aware of all responsibilities, but still never lost his boyish charms.

It’s honestly refreshing, being with him, surrounding yourself with his charms, his laughter, his antics. You have found a place to be yourself around, a presence in which you can even relax stresses that have worn so deep they settled in hollow bones, but with him, all worries seem to be gone.

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Im Yours | Part 3

A/N: posting this from my phone in the middle of BumFuck USA so bare with me. Also, I touched a rattle snake. Also Also, shits about to start getting real, so there’s that. Thx, K. 

 Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

 Rating: Drama, Angst, Smut, Fluff 

WARNINGS: Language, Eventual Violence, Lots of Smut Later on

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

There was something about the way he looked at you. Something about the way he talked to you. Every day since the night he took you home Jaebum had wondered down into the kitchen at one point or another during the day. It started off just to retrieve his own meals, saying nothing more then a polite good morning and to see what the menu for the day was, occasionally he’d tell you some of the things he’d like to have. It soon transitioned into him eating in the kitchen. He’d thank you for his plate and sit down across the island, making small talk as he quickly ate his meal. You thought it was funny how quiet the others were around him, like they were always ready to spring up when he said jump. That made you laugh.

Now, only a week later, Jaebum seemed to be spending all his time in the kitchen. He’d walk down in the morning and give you his usual smiley hello before sitting down in front of the meal you prepared, always complimenting you on how great it smelt. He started talking to you more, even telling you stories of his childhood; crazy things that you could hardly believe. You’d reciprocate with stories about your wild days in school. He laughed often after your stories. Sometimes, when it was just the two of you and maybe BamBam, he’d laugh out these loud belly hurting laughs that made your stomach erupt with butterflies, but when more then that was around he’d keep them to a light chuckle. You could see it in his eyes though, he really wanted to laugh.

Lunch would roll around and Jaebum would be right back in his usual bar stool, but this time his eyes would be scanning over paperwork that he’d cover if you got to close. The secrets didn’t bother you though, it really wasn’t any of your business and you respected that. He would, however, start to confide in you about things by asking you questions randomly.

“If someone told you they were going to do something for you, talked about it for months while they kissed your ass about how easy it would be and how smooth it would go and then you find out they went behind your back to help your rival. What would you do?” He’d say rubbing his temples.

“Break their knee caps.” You said making his head snap up. “Realistically though, I’d probably up my game, make them regret that they didn’t follow through on their word.” You’d say, slipping a piece of the tomato your were dicing between your lips.

Little did you know he was doing exactly that.

‘What did they offer you.’ Jaebum screamed, one of the men he had been working with had been caught and bound wrists to ankles like a pig and tossed into a blood covered concrete room.

'He didn’t say, he didn’t say’ the man moaned, blinking through the sweat and blood that had dripped from his forehead.

Jaebum looked up motioning for Jackson to lift the man. He cut the short tie that was holding his hands to his feet before he man-handled him into the chair that BamBam had drug into the room. The sight of BamBam with a sledge hammer in one hands was enough to send the man into a frenzy, now pulling away from Jackson, flailing his body as he let out short screams.

'One. More. Chance.’ Jaebum said sternly from where he stood across the room.

“He didn’t say anything!” The man screamed, almost trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Jaebum.

“BamBam?” Jaebum said waving a hand at the man who now sat screaming and flailing in the seat he was now bound to.

“Batter up.” BamBam chuckled before pressing his lips firmly together and ramming the hammer into the mans knees.

You were surprised by the empty car that had come to retrieve you that morning, BamBam took pride in picking you up so of course you worried. The car ride was boring without him, you couldn’t help the long dramatic sighs that lift your lips every time you made eye contact with the driver you usually made fun of.

There was something about the house that was different. It was quiet and although it usually was in the morning there was something missing. The kitchen was still dark and it seemed like there was something missing. Your eyebrows pressed together when you realized BamBam hadn’t restocked the fridge and the chalk board that usually had a new good morning messages from all of the boys along with ideas for meals still had yesterday’s notes on them.

You didn’t know what to do, should you start cooking and then wait for someone to come down or should you wait for someone to come down and then start cooking. All of the sudden the sound of the front door followed by a 'What do you mean she’s already here, Y/n?’ Made you smile as you made your way down the hall way.

“Morning!” You said as all the boys stared at you.

“Idiot!” Jackson said smacking the drivers head before waving and heading up stairs. The rest of the boys all followed him up in a sneaky way except for Jaebum, who smiled sweetly before walking up to you.

“Late night?” You said nodding towards the last boy running up the stairs.

“Yes and we’re all starving.” He said as the two of you walked back to the kitchen.

“I was up all night working starving or I was up all night drinking starving.” You said making him look at you with an entertained look.

“A little bit of both.” He said smirking and sitting down on his regular stool.

“So one hangover burger for everyone.” You said tying on your apron. “Except for you. We don’t need you to die on us.” You joked, laughing as he pouted.

All showered you smiled as the boys filed back into the kitchen. You smacked BamBams arm for laughing as Jaebum munched on the personal breakfast casserole you made for him while the rest of them moaned into the hamburger you had made topped with all the breakfast things you could think of for the others.

“I do control what you eat, don’t test me boy.” You said pointing a finger at him to make him laugh again.

Dinner rolled around and once again you were sat next to Jaebum with a glass of wine. The food was long gone and the dishes taken care of so the eight of you could enjoy some more time together. One by one the boys all excused themselves to call it a night until it was just you and Jaebum, turned in your chairs so you were facing one another. Your glass had found a permanent resting spot right in front of our mouth as the two of you talked so you could cover your mouth with the back of your hand that held onto the glass. Easier to hide your drinking giggles that way.

“And then, you’ll never believe this, the arrow ricocheted off of the target so hard it flew back and stuck Jinyoungin the foot. Actually the craziest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do, God he’s such an idiot.” He said as you giggled into another sip of wine.

“I’ve really enjoyed talking to you these past few weeks, y/n.” He said smiling.

“You’re fun to talk to, by far my favorite Boss yet.” You said with a gentle wink. You could have sworn was blushing, but with how dim the room was and how drunk you realized you were you couldn’t quite tell.

“How many of these have you had now?” He chuckled, now resting his arm across the back of your chair so he could lean in and pour you another glass.

“Enough I think.” You giggled.

He looked up to you gently and you couldn’t help the blush that broke across your cheeks. For the first time in the two weeks you had known him you were able to pinpoint the feeling that had tugged at your stomach every time he laughed or smiled or even looked your way. You couldn’t help but take your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought about his kindness towards you. How he would beat around the bush about it, but still ask you for advice and how the advice you gave to him seemed to matter.

You couldn’t help your eyes as they flicked down to his lips. You took in how they still held hints of a smile in the corners and how they slightly parted when he noticed you looking. Eyes meeting his again you’d notice him looking at you. His hand gently set the bottle he had still been holding down and soon that same hand was taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He closed the space between the two of you, leaving barley enough space between your face and his. He waited a second to see if you would protest and when you didn’t he’d finish closing the space. Your head began to pound and you almost forgot where you were as his lips slowly melted into yours over and over again. He tasted like wine and smelt of mahogany teakwood; the perfect mixture of taste and smell as you snaked your hand around his neck to deepen the kiss. His lips were soft and gentle and they kissed you as if he was afraid of something. Like anymore pressure and he would break you. Your hand found its way to his chest where you unintentionally could feel the rapid beating of his heart. You drug your hand up tying to memorize the trail you were taking before your hand snaked around his neck.

Then it hit you. You were kissing your boss.

Pulling back you covered your mouth with slightly shaky hands. Your cheeks were flushed and felt so hot compared to your hands. He looked at you confused, his lips still slightly pursed and pink from the kissing.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.” You said quickly standing up, the wine in your system catching up with you and making you stumble over the chair that was on the other side of you as you walked quickly into the kitchen. You closed your hands into fists and hit the counter, not being able to believe you had screwed up the best job you had ever had. As quickly as you could you started to pack your knives, now just wanted to get out of the house as fast as possible.


You rounded, a large knife still in your hand to see Jaebum standing there, worry plastered on his face like it was front page news. He held up his hands at the knife pointed to him and tried to muster a smile. Letting the knife fall loudly on the counter you rested your elbows on the counter and covered your face.

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever put my hands up for.” He said chuckling, knowing perfectly well you wouldn’t get the joke behind it.

“Im sorry if I came on too strong.” He said leaning against the counter. You stayed there staring at his shoes from the small crack in his hands.

“It’s my fault. I kissed the boss.” You said shrugging and standing up.

“Technically the boss kissed you.” He said stepping closer.

“Technically or not it’s still against the rules. I’ll get another cook sent to you guys.” You said pressing your lips together to try and hide how upset you were.

“I don’t play by the rules, y/n. You should know that by now.”

“This is my job, I shouldn’t have mixed pleasure with it.”

“So kissing me was pleasurable.” He said with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah.” You said, not fully caring at how his eyebrows raised at your bluntness. “Which is why I shouldn’t be working here any more.”

“And if I held you here against your will?”

“I guess I’ll have to bash your knees in.” You said chuckling along with Jaebum.

“Please don’t quit on us. I know we wouldn’t want another cook. We want you. I want you.” He said reaching to stroke your cheek again. You but your lip, this could not be happening right now.

When you didn’t say anything he stepped forward to meet your lips with his. Without warning you melted into the kiss again, it didn’t last long though as you were able to get your thoughts in order faster this time. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Then don’t think.”

The Rogue [Grayson] Part One

Summary: Being the little sister of a cartel leader is hard. Your skills are put to the test when you’re forced to go undercover and destroy one of the country’s most dangerous cartels, The Rogue. What you weren’t planning on, was to get involved with their leader. 
Word Count: 2,081
Warnings: Mentions of drugs, abuse, death, sexual intercourse, cussing.
A/N: So, this idea just came up to me and I feel like it’s probably not a good idea to start up a new mini series when I’ve already put two of them on hold. But maybe this is what I need to break free of my writer’s block. I wanna thank my lovely Katie ( @twininspiredwriting​ ) for being a huge help through my block. Without further ado, I present to you The Rogue.

The Rogue Masterlist.

“Your brother is a coward, you know.” Slater laughed mockingly, letting his dark eyes roam over your helpless body before tearing them away. He looked at the knife in his hand, twirling it like he was a kid and it was a knife made of plastic. “Sending his little sister to fight his battles. You girls, you’re just as weak as everyone say you are.”

You tried to keep the look of disdain off your face as he uttered those sexist words, but your lips scrunched together like you’d eaten something sour, eyes narrowing into slits as you looked up at him. The thick rope was starting to chafe around your wrists, burning your sensitive skin as you wrung your hands around in a desperate attempt to free them so you could kick his sorry ass. But it was useless, you were bound tight by the ankles and wrists, sitting on a chair in the middle of a beat down warehouse. Slater and his three guys were surrounding you, the three of them looking on with no emotion showing on their faces as Slater blabbered away.

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Baby On Board

@aria725 asked: Can you make a Black Panther imagine where him and the reader are married (black girl) and she’s about 4 months pregnant. T'challa is out on the mission and the reader starts to get bored being stuck in the palace all day so she sneaks out to go for a walk and she gets kidnapped. When T'challa finds out he instantly puts the whole country on lock down and stops at nothing to find her. You can change where you see fit! Hopefully this isn’t too much!! Thank you! Xoxo

Word Count: 1402

Warnings: Kidnapping, One Curse Word

Pairing: T’Challa x Reader

Beta: @madithecatfish

Your name: submit What is this?

“It’s just a walk, T.”

“I don’t care. You need security at all times.”

You two had this conversation multiple times. His usually endearing overprotectiveness was starting to annoy you.

“I’ll be fine. I can protect myself.”

“It’s not just you anymore.” T’Challa sighed, putting his hand on your belly.

You weren’t even showing yet and he was already stressing. Ever since you told him he had put himself in protective mode. Security, courtesy of the Dora Milaje, was increased. Your diet was ridiculously healthy, and you had enough.

“I understand that,” you voice softened, “but do you honestly think that I would ever put our baby in danger?”

“No, but— “

“ —No “buts”. I know what I’m doing, T’Challa.”

You turned around and started to walk away before stopping, turning slightly.

“And last I checked,” you remarked, “I was a queen, not a prisoner.”

With that, you walked to the very place you had argued with your husband about going: the garden. You couldn’t understand why T’Challa had such a problem with you coming out here by yourself. It was so peaceful and quiet, perfect for someone who’s growing another human being inside her body to relax and destress. You couldn’t quite relax though, not with your fight with T’Challa still running through your head.

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Sins of the Father: Serpent and the Dove

Pairing: Finn Bálor x Reader

Word Count: 1048

Warnings (potential triggers): Blood, violence, blasphemy, desecration of sacred objects, sacrilege, non-con, horror elements (no squinting required)

A/N: Hello hello! Apologies for the late arrival. However, this was a tough one to nail down. Wasn’t quite as violent, but our favorite demon really wasn’t trying to make a mess. But um, just the same…apologies in advance.

Hope you enjoy. ;)

My Bálor Babes: @yourr-anger-your-anchor@motleymoose@georgiadean37@wweximaginesxd@racheo91@daddy-slug@blondekel77@ambrosegirlforever @liam-is-sexy10 @fucking-bandsx@boundtomyfate@hotspurmadridista@florenceivy@geekoftv@behindthesesilvereyes@vsturgeon5489@thegoddessqueenrileycarter@wwesmutandstuff@devitt-club@anerdysouthernbelle @thebadchic  @baratomaya @jenn0755@sbethell89 @magical419 @lilyruelas @xxmaddhatter39xx @bouttogolinkurbitch

Originally posted by ms-muscles

Because context - even of the sacrilegious kind - is everything, catch up on the Masterlist before you proceed.

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anonymous asked:

Saeran tending an injury Mc got (this Mc is a big cry baby when it comes to pain) also may I just say your writing is amazing and I just haven't read a one shots like your in along time and just reading them wow, keep up the great work! I'm so glad I found your blog!

A/N: Aww, you’re so sweet anon! :) Thank you!! Hope you like this one!

Tears prick your eyes, threatening to slip out from the corners to mix with the perspiration trickling down the sides of your face. You bite down on your lip and hold your breath as you try to ignore the sweltering heat and the painful sting of the angry red abrasion stamped on your knee.

It’s hard to ignore, however. You’ve never had a decent tolerance for pain. Injuries and scrapes like these have been one of your greatest fears growing up till now, and you shudder at the thought of having to bathe later. You absolutely abhor the idea of having anything come into contact with your raw, bleeding wound. Just the thought alone is enough to make you wince, and maybe it’s purely psychological, but you swear the sting on your knee worsens a little.

“It’s just a small scrape,” you hear Saeran comment. He’s squatting next to you, head hovering above your knee as he examines your fresh injury with a blank face. It’s nothing to him, and you’re not that surprised. Considering the ordeals he had been through in the past, this is far too trivial, and your state of panic laughable and pathetic, at best.

Still, you can’t help the quickening of your pulse when you feel tiny droplets of his perspiration drip onto your leg, perilously close to your wound. You want to tell him to move away, or to wipe his sweat off first, but you daren’t release your teeth from your lower lip for fear of losing control over your tear ducts at this point.

He clicks his tongue, and then removes his bag pack, opening it and sieving through its contents. “We’ll need to wash this before it gets infected,” he remarks.

The sight of him pulling his large water bottle out of his bag is enough to make your blood run cold.

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