#what's a good way to tame this feisty bastard?

[kannibalkaiii]

Angry Moo boi, Thorgil

For @iscx-o3o

(Hope I got all the details requested right 😘)

-

He's mad rn but don't worry he'll come around...

Full body under cut (with lil censors ofc)

😏🥛🥛🥛

[pursuitseternal]

“I wanted to hear you whimper…” ✨Update to “Bites in the Night”✨

Act 1 Astarion x f!Reader | E | 3K

Summary: After fighting your way out of the Githyanki Crèche, your vampire has a raging… ego. And you need to check it, to remind him his place… and to hear him whimper.

CW: Subby Astarion, Whimper alert, mild bondage, inappropriate use of grasping vines, begging, brat taming, face sitting, anal fingering, oral sex

Ao3 link | series on ao3 | Masterlist

“Well…” he purrs, that aspirate ‘h’ somewhere in the middle of the word making you bristle with irritation. “I thought they’d never leave…” Astarion grins, spattered in Githyanki blood as he casually licks his blade clean.

He’s the image of cool and collected… as if you all didn’t just fight your way out of the entire Crèche in the Rosymorn Monastery. As if Gale didn’t almost die three times and as if you didn’t get your favorite weapons disarmed from your hands twice. “Leave?” you snap at him. “They’re dead!”

Astarion sheathes his blade and starts to suck the blood clean from under his fingernails. “Seems hardly a difference worth fighting over, darling. Same result.”

“No, it’s a result of your big… fat… mouth,” you snip the words, closing the distance to poke him in the leather armored chest with every word. “And you defaced their painting of Vlakith! You’re lucky your undead guts aren’t being used for training targets.”

Astarion just gives that same conceited, shit-eating grin. “My guts are perfectly fine. Theirs are spread on the ground… and, since you seem in a feisty mood…” he leans in close to purr in your ear, “perhaps you’d like your guts rearranged, dear?”

“Ugh!” you gag in disgust at the suggestion. “You arsehole. You should be apologizing for that smart mouth of yours.”

“Darling, I rarely apologize, and I never do when I’m in the right. Thanks to me, we can leave this mausoleum.” He comments with a flick of his wrist, ignoring your enraged glare and heading for camp.

That’s when something snaps inside you. The other companions are already well up the trail from the Monastery. And, by now, when you and Astarion disappear, they know better than to come looking… and Shadowheart usually has her hands already glowing with Lesser Restoration. A nice treat for after feeling the blood loss on your end of your trysts.

But not this time.

“You’re a proper bastard, aren’t you?” you hiss at him, heart racing with the need to fight.

But he just flashes you that cool, collective seductive smile. “Such a mean spirit, you wouldn’t want me to have to teach you some manners… would you?” His lean frame crowds you, one arm reaching to cage you in against the tree behind you. “I’m feeling rather good right now… all that Githyanki blood has given me quite the raging… affliction. I could use your help…” his eyes flash dangerously seductive as he grabs your wrist and guides your hand to his clothed erection.

Tearing your hand away, you cuss at him. “Fucking arrogant Elf,” you hiss, grabbing him by the top of his flushed and pointed ear. “You’re going to learn manners, not me!”

Astarion crumples between your pinching fingers. Knees buckling, voice cracking, eyes tearing… you’d think you had kicked him in the balls with how pathetically he’s reacting now. “Ow, ow, ow,” he whines as you drag him off the path into the sunny woods of the Mountain Path.

You have to reach high to grab it, that pink tip of his ear, but the ache in your shoulder is worth it for how he instantly cows to you. He’s sputtering curses and calling you names, but it’s hard to take them seriously as his voice breaks with shrill whines.

Like a boy in puberty, every word cracks in his voice.

“Cheeky little… argh!” He squeals as you squeeze harder, making his feet stumble. Just in time. You find what you’re looking for.

Grasping vines, a nice little patch.

“You, my vampire, have been insufferable long enough today. Apologize,” you command.

He scoffs, trying to reach for your punishing fingers on his most tender of spots. “I won’t apologize for killing our enemies in battle. They had it coming, those Gith…”

“Hmmm, guess what, my dear,” you cup his bloodied cheek with your free hand, bringing him in for a kiss. His lips tremble against yours, his ear is still nabbed tightly in your grip, after all. You whisper in delicate and threatening tones against his mouth. “Now you’ve got your own thing coming as a result.”

He gasps, cool breath on your face as you guide him to the ground by his ear. “Hands above your head, and if you’re a good boy, I’ll even let you come.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he snarls, trying to jerk his ear free as he lies in the grass and dirt, but the pain only makes him hiss and relent as you hold fast.

“Oh I dare, Astarion. I dare because you’re being an obnoxious, unbearable… louse!”

“I think you mean leech,” he tries to giggle, a snap of his fangs beneath you. “I have more in common with leeches.”

Your withering glare gives him just enough pause, those hard lines of his eyes softening, gaze widening as he realizes you aren’t joking.

“Hands above your head, leech,” you give your icy command.

Those elegant hands move in obedience, slender, skilled digits twitching slightly as they extend across the forest floor until…

…with a creaking groan, the grasping vines do their job, locking his wrists and upper arms neatly in place.

“Wretched hells, you have to be joking,” he growls, fighting against the vines as anger flares in those crimson eyes. “You have got to be joking, darling.”

“Serious as death itself,” you smirk down at him. “Now all you can use is your smart mouth, and until you apologize, I’m going to give it something to do.

You pull off your leather armor and underthings slowly. A smile turns your lips as you watch Astarion try to slip his hand from the vines unsuccessfully. A sweat is dotting his brow, eyes roam your exposed skin and follow your hand to where your fingers slide themselves to bury into your own cunt.

His fangs catch in the patches of sunlight through the canopy. Pupils blown wide, he watches your hand, his pink tongue wetting his lips at the sight. It doesn’t take any effort to perceive the prodding, twitching erection in his leathers. “Are you going to apologize for being a proper twat?”

“As I demonstrated today with our Gith friends, I’m not one to back down from a fight… darling….”

Oh, that smug grin on his face, that tongue teasing the corner of his mouth… you want to smack it from his handsome face, you want to… to…

You step over him. Feet framing his chest, you lower yourself to your knees, fingers parting your folds to show his hungry eyes your swollen little clit. “If you insist on being a cunt, you can taste mine…”

He smirks wider, purring and stretching beneath you. Proud of himself. “Oh darling, I…”

The groan that comes from your mouth as you cover him with your folds is so loud, birds startle from the trees. You grind, slow rolls that push his prominent, aquiline nose right against your aching clit. Finally, that tongue that has caused you nothing but trouble today is put to good use as it thrusts in and circles around your channel. His laughter tickles up your spine from your sex, and you can almost feel his self-satisfaction as you positively drench his face.

But this is supposed to be retribution. A lesson to tame his brat behavior. So you grab a fist of his perfect, blood-streaked silver hair and yank. “Mmmph,” he whines loudly into your folds. Desperation and pain. It’s high pitched, pitiful. And you shake him a bit, your breathing ragged from being driven so close to your release already.

“This isn’t for you, Astarion, it’s for me,” you snap, watching the twinkle of mischief flash in those crimson depths. “You’ve been naughty… intolerable. And now you’re going to pay for it.”

“Oh I quake in my boots,” he thrusts his hips up behind you into the air, miming what pleasures await. “I’m all a-quiver with fear,” he sniggers.

You fist your hand tighter in his hair until he hisses and whines that you’ll ruin it. “Just remember, it’s a good thing you don’t need to breathe.”

Those eyes widen at your implied threat as you sit firmly on his mouth and nose and chin. His skin already slick with your arousal, he works his head and tongue inside your folds for far longer than any mortal would survive. You grind slowly, careful not to let in too much air, savoring all the friction he can give you.

And he… he knows his duty. All fangs and tongue and lips as you roll your clit on his nose. Your walls flutter around his tongue, your pulse thumping in your ears now, no longer from rage but from hot, desperate arousal. “I’m close,” you gasp, and you know he hears you as his pointed ears twitch. “Make me come, and I just might let you, too.” You give a low, threatening laugh, “eventually that is.”

That’s when you feel it on your clit, his face sliding in your folds as he catches your bud in his front, blunted teeth and nips.

You groan, voice breaking in a scream as you come around nothing. Holding yourself up with your fist in his hair, you can’t just let yourself pitch forward or you’ll end up in the vines too. So you shake in your bliss, braced against his face and scalp as your tremors wrack through you.

Raising up, you move to kneel beside him, pulling out a rag from your bag of holding to wipe his face off.

“You just can’t keep your hands off me, even after you’ve come. Isn’t that right, darling?” He gives you that arrogant asshole of a smirk, and you mirror it. Slowly, you pop open the fastening of that blue and burgundy leather armor until his cream undershirt lies damp against his skin. You can feel his belly clenching under your feather light touch, watching it rise and fall with ragged breaths.

As your hand brushes gingerly over the rock hard bulge in his leathers, he hisses, a low giggle of a laugh in his throat. “I’ve made you feel good, haven’t I? I think I deserve a treat,” he sasses you, another roll of his hips to push his erection against your palm.

But you’re not done, and you give his cock a punishing squeeze through his leathers. “Hush,” you snap. You reach into your bag again, pulling out an eagle feather and a bottle of oil. “Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll open your mouth to do one of two things: apologize….” You lean forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips, “or beg.”

He laughs, catching you off guard as he bites your lips until you taste blood. “You know by now, I never beg,” he growls, pride dripping from his words.

“First time for everything,” you hiss, pulling your mouth out of his reach and licking your blood from your lips. Reaching for the feather, you tickle it over the sharp, mouthwatering line of his jaw. “We’ll start with something soft, I think…” Just that downy tip traces the lines of his chest, the chiseled muscles underneath flex and constrict as his belly clenches.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his breathing light and rapid. You hear his hands straining against the vines, their growth creaking as he fights for freedom. “Mmhm,” you hear him whine, that feather tracing the line of his waistband as his cock remains twitching.

Untouched.

His eyes are blown, pupils wide and dark as his body undulates under your teasing touch.

“I think I heard you speak, but not to apologize or beg…” you taunt, leaning over him, setting aside the feather in favor of a single finger. Your isolated touch trails the same pattern, those ridges of his abdominals are a map you know by heart now. “So you’ll have to suffer having me touch you like this ‘til you ask nicely…”

Your finger wanders to his hips, just brushing the outline of his cock. He bucks into nothingness, into open air… his breathing rough, his belly rapidly rising and clenching repeatedly. “Eugh,” he whines, your finger tracing that prominent ridge at the base of his cock head.

“Ready to apologize or beg?” you lean down to whisper in his ear, but by the way his fang bites his bottom lip, you can see he’s still clinging too tightly to that insufferable pride.

“Neither,” he says bravely, but the sensation of your hand reaching into his leathers makes an open-mouth whine rip from his mouth. You force your hand into that waistband. It’s snug, especially with how hard he’s gotten. And all you have room to do is squeeze, pulsing your fist around his shaft. You can feel the slow thump of his undead heart in his dick, so hard and so aroused as he is. “Hells… fuck… damn you…” he whines something new with every squeeze you give him.

“Just say ‘sorry,’ or ‘please,’ and all this can go much faster,” you taunt, a singsong in your voice as you release him to unlace his pants. He just gives a pathetic sigh as his cock is freed. You know it aches. All that blood from the Gith, all your teasing has made him flushed and hard and leaking precum profusely. His crimson eyes stare at your lips as you lick them, his whole world narrowed to their wet promise of release and the aching tingle in his cock. It takes a second to shimmy his leathers to the tops of his boots and to uncork the bottle of oil.

A generous amount on your hands and you smile at him. “Come on, you rascal. After all the trouble you caused, don’t you feel the least bit sorry?”

His fangs bite his lower lip tighter again, the sharp lines of his face set, determined to prevail.

Your mouth quirks to one side, hand wandering a single oily finger up his taut thigh, then between those pert ass cheeks of his.

His voice cracks in a whimper, fangs piercing into his own skin as you tease one, single finger around the tight ring of his hole. He tries so hard to snarl, to buck his hips as if he has any control. His cock just juts into the air, twitching and leaking, as you tease inside that ring of muscle just a little more… and more. The oil helps to slide your finger in, just the one digit you thrust in and out. He voices his rapid breathing, quick fire noises that sound so pathetic from his throat, you’re almost tempted to give in and bring him the sweet release you both crave.

“By the hells,” he opens his mouth, whining like a child, “you’re going to really make me pay for just being myself, aren’t you?”

“And just who do you think you are?” You snigger, all those feelings of sympathy evaporate, and suddenly you have two fingers knuckle deep in his ass. Jamming them in slowly, you crook over and over until you find that spot inside him that makes him shudder and writhe. “Ha… huh…” he’s huffing with each stroke you make inside him. “P….p….”

“Is that a ‘p-p-please’ that’s starting to finally form on your irritating tongue?” you chide him, pressing your lips on the spasming plane of his belly even as your fingers fuck him. “And don’t fool yourself, I’m making you pay not because you’re insufferable… or mischievous… or down right maliciously cruel…”

Your fingers continue their torture in his tight walls. Another kiss on his stomach, a flick of your tongue below his navel and more along those deep v cut grooves over his hips, and you hear the most divine noises from his lips. “Just so we’re clear, I’m doing this to show you your place… to remind you, you need to be a member of my party… and just because I want to hear you whimper.” You lower your mouth, his eyes almost black with lust as they stare at you. He watches you lick your lips slowly only to just breathe warm, damp air on his cock. He grunts, fangs and teeth grit as it jerks widely from the promise of contact. “Beg for me, dear…”

You can hear his little swallowed growls in time with your fingers that are still thrusting inside him.

“Beg for me to let you come…”

His breathing comes in rapid succession, hissing between his clenching teeth. Until… finally… he opens them for a single word. “Please…”

But you just laugh, low and rough in your throat. “Louder, you proud, arrogant bastard.”

“Hells, just…. Fuck me… please!” He finally breaks, voice high and breathless as he bucks his hips into the air closer to your face. A desperate attempt at contact. Any contact.

You stick out your tongue, a teasing lick up the underside of his shaft to clean the mess of precum that’s positively dripping in streams. His cock twitches away from your tongue, a mind of its own. And you laugh, letting your lips and throat vibrate as you slowly suckle him down. Your fingers prod just right, and those warm, tight muscles inside him pulse and tighten… until his cum fills your mouth. He erupts with the most pathetic sounds yet… all rapid whines that crack his voice box until he can only grunt in time with his cock spasms. He fills you; the taste is familiar, but his seed is strangely warm on your tongue. Perhaps it’s from positively gorging himself today. Maybe that’s one thing that you could enjoy because of his arrogance. You smile as you swallow, savoring the look on his sweaty face. You pull your oiled fingers free, cleaning you both with a rag.

“Still feeling like a brat?” You taunt him, as you wipe his softening cock.

“I’m hardly ever a brat, darling…”

You scoff, throwing the rag on his face. “Maybe I should leave you like this until the vines decide they’re tired of your attitude too.”

“Gods, no, please,” he adds quickly. And you just smile down at him, naked and triumphant as you say two more words…

“Good boy.”

[lothiriel84]

Just a few random considerations after my latest rewatch of series 1 of BBC Ghosts last night. 

Ghosts vs. the living

It’s extremely interesting that while as a rule humans are completely unable to see/hear ghosts, (some) animals are in fact shown to be able to sense the presence of a ghost, to the point of attempting to interact with them - see Tali (?) the dog barking up at Robin, and then wanting to be petted by Pat. 

It remains unclear whether that’s down to some kind of sixth sense specifically possessed by animals (dogs? bears? any animal at all?) as opposed to humans, or it somehow implies that the animal in question had a scrape with death at some point in the past. (Although the latter doesn’t sound very likely when it comes to Barclay’s dogs, or I should hope so, at least.)

Another interesting point is how often exactly do dead animals turn into ghosts. So far, the only animal ghost (or should that be ghost animal?) we’ve been shown is Button House’s resident pigeon - could that be because animals don’t often have any real unfinished business barring their access to whichever sort of afterlife is reserved to their kind? (But more importantly, was Arthur Shappey right in believing heaven is, in fact, full of otters?)

Schrödinger’s (attempted) murder

As I mentioned elsewhere - probably in the tags while reblogging someone else’s gifs, to be honest - I believe Julian being genuinely unable to tell whether he successfully pushed Alison out of the window or she basically lost her balance and fell as a consequence makes for a much more interesting scenario. 

To be absolutely clear, that would make no difference when it comes to him being guilty of attempted murder; he is shown to have no qualms whatsoever about killing Alison, and when all is said and done, it hardly matters whether his goal was reached by his own hand or through dumb luck (plus a non-indifferent dose of carelessness on Alison’s part).

All I’m saying is, think back of how much trouble he had with pushing a vase which was comparatively not all that bigger than a cup. And even if he did know for sure - admittedly, he might be capable of feeling the reaction of the object he pushes against, should he succeed in doing so - I, as a viewer, would very much rather be afforded a little room for doubt. Not for the sake of Julian’s character, but as I feel it somehow raises the stakes of this particular storyline.

Alison as one of the coolest characters ever

Not only does Alison figure the whole seeing-dead-people situation mostly by herself - with a little help from the ghost therapist at the hospital, but she could have easily written off the entire episode as yet another of her alleged post-traumatic hallucinations - but more importantly, her reaction when she realises she’s effectively stuck with a haunted house as well as a potentially bankruptcy-inducing mortgage is one of the coolest moments in the entire series. 

I dare say most people would be inclined to lose the plot a little bit, when faced with such simultaneously dire yet completely absurd circumstances; Alison, on the other hand, simply unbuckles her seat belt, gets out of the car, and confronts the ghosts head-first. And not only that, but she’s smart enough to call them out on their real reasons for haunting her, to the point they actually confess what they really want from her. (Which sums down, in most cases, to trivial requests such as being allowed to watch war documentaries, or having an incriminated portrait removed from a room.)

Forget her questionable choices when it comes to financial matters, she’s a feisty young woman capable of handling a herd of recalcitrant ghosts, and that’s more than can be said of almost any other character in the show. 

The Captain and the morality of choices

It’s hardly a mystery the Captain is a bit of a bastard, and we all love him for that. Right at the beginning, he is presented to us as someone who would make a show of wanting to ‘say a few words’ about the dearly departed just so he could immediately proceed to ‘bagsy her room’. I’d say his general mindset could be summed up as something close to the end justifies the means - with the caveat that we actually know very little about him aside the military persona he chooses to present himself as all the time. 

If I had to hazard a guess, facing everything life death throws at him as a military campaign could either be a subconscious defence mechanism, a habit so deeply ingrained he couldn’t shake it off if he wanted to, or something he elects to do as a way to cope with the listlessness that comes with being stuck in limbo (potentially) for eternity. And, quite possibly, a combination of all three. 

The main thing is, rules are important for him, but so is winning whichever military campaign he embarked upon at each particular moment in time. When his plan to enroll the plague victims as his new army fails, he resorts to strategic subterfuge in order to win the war; as they say, all's fair in love and war, and more often than not, battles are won by military tactics rather than such things as a superior army. He is very much the Odysseus of Button House, with the significant difference that he’s not so much attempting to conquer an enemy city as he’s fighting to take back control of an outpost he used to be in charge of.

In this (probably unfortunate) parallel, I’m afraid the poor Kitty serves as the infamous Trojan horse. (Juan Domingo, please, we’re not getting into this all over again.) The Captain knows Alison trusts her, and his subterfuge will therefore go undetected until it’s too late; and yet, remarkably enough, he still decides to offer Kitty a choice on the matter. Admittedly, he’s already counting on the fact that Kitty is neither particularly smart, nor in any way prepared to give up on Alison anytime soon - however, he still offers her a choice, and I feel like that is very much relevant to his character. He is, for all intent and purposes, tricking Kitty into fooling her friend/the person she loves; but while he’s concealing all the important facts from her, he’s not robbing her of her choice entirely. 

(Should Kitty have decided to prioritise Alison’s happiness over her own, I daresay the captain would have come up with yet another plan to overcome the temporary setback. Neither scenario makes him any less of a bastard, but he’s still a man of principles after his own fashion, and that’s how I choose to read him, regardless.)

A final note on Robin

I’ve made no secret of how Robin is my favourite character by far, just as I believe he is for a significant portions of fans of the show. As mischievous as he loves to be - which is, all things considered, a comparatively tame reaction to being stuck as a ghost for an incredibly long time, with very little hope of ever moving on - his pranks are mostly harmless, and he is at heart the kindest, most emotionally mature of all the ghosts. (Yes, even when he’s scampering around, marvelling at the builders’ equipment. If anything, it’s a sign of his natural curiosity and intelligence; we are, after all, repeatedly shown he is particularly good at problem solving as well as playing what basically boils down to blindfold chess.)

As often as the other ghosts tend to remark upon his language skills or lack thereof, they should probably pay more attention to all the occasions in which Robin’s brains made the difference, and I’m including his emotional intelligence in that category. As others pointed out before me, he’s a trickster with a heart of gold, and the only sane man among what is basically a swarm of squabbling children. 

And he faces all of that armed only with his peculiar brand of humour, and his enthusiasm for new things to discover, including - why not? - new ways to scare the living daylights out of Alison, just for the fun of it. 

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Hellion is Tamed by Tracy Sumner

League of Lords #4

 Simon Alexander is more than he appears to be. Transplanted into society after beginning in the slums, he has grown into a formidable man who is not 100% comfortable in his skin. When he was fifteen there was a woman that meant the world to him…and then she disappeared. The book begins with him on a quest to bring Emma, the woman from his past, into his life again and that means a bit of time travel…and more.

 What I liked:

* Simon: fast-fingered, soft-hearted, sometimes angry, giving, sees and speaks with ghosts, owner of a business, “brother” to more than one, part off  the League of paranormals, in love with Emma…whether or not he is willing to admit it.

* Emma: time traveler, born almost a century before Simon, reminded me a bit of Eliza in My Fair Lady, giving, kind, loving, intriguing, perfect for Simon

* Josie: Simon’s friend from the past and saver of women

* Seeing characters from previous books

* The writing, plot, potential for more stories

* The way good thwarted evil

* All of it except…

 What I didn’t like:

* What I was meant not to like…the baddies…and how they were thwarted

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

 Thank you to the author and NetGalley for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

   BLURB

 Time-traveling lovers navigate the sinister streets of London—while denying their enchantment and desire. If you like THE NEVERS, this series is for you! He’s a viscount’s bastard who sees more than he wants to... Rescued from the slums and molded into a gentleman, Simon Alexander lost the love of his life to a mystical world he’s always spurned. Still searching for the time traveler who stole his heart, he’ll stop at nothing to find her. When he does, he finds he can’t trust her—or his desire. Will he be able to tame his fear, and his hellion, once and for all? She's a time-traveling socialite... Transforming Emma Breslin from a poverty-stricken termagant into an aristocrat is easier than anyone imagined. Nearly overnight, she delights society as a trendsetting sensation. Torn between her obsession with the man who’s never forgiven her for leaving and her fight to safeguard the magical gem she stole from him, Emma battles to survive without the man she loves. But when her life is threatened, Simon Alexander is the only person in any time she can trust. Come along for a passionate story where passion defies time and love conquers betrayal. Ready for Simon's story of forbidden love, time travel, and intrigue? The Hellion is Tamed is #4 in the steamy Victorian paranormal romance series Publishers Weekly calls, “A superpowered twist on Victorian romance!"

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author Tracy Sumner’s storytelling career began when she picked up a historical romance on a college beach trip, and she fondly blames LaVyrle Spencer for her obsession with the genre. She’s a recipient of the National Reader’s Choice, and her novels have been translated into Dutch, German, Portuguese and Spanish. She lived in New York, Paris and Taipei before finding her way back to the LowcountLry of South Carolina.

When not writing sizzling love stories about feisty heroines and their temperamental-but-entirely-lovable heroes, Tracy enjoys reading, snowboarding, college football (Go Tigers!), yoga, and travel. She loves to hear from romance readers!

[mayaknights]

Mine

Pairing: Jaehyun x Taeyong, Jaeyong Description: Possessive vampire Jaehyun. Inspired by a lovely Manhwa Royal Servant and Blood Bank Rating: M

Part two

 Soft pink hair flows as the wind blows. His white kimono perfect with golden rose pattern clings around his lean figure, falling right before his ankles. His skin is fair while his lips are in the shade of beautiful dusty rose; offering a wonderful contrast against his white skin.

Without second doubt, Johnny finds the boy in the expensive-looking kimono alluring. He likes the way the boy’s nicely shaped thigh peeks through the white silk kimono as he walks, giving him an idea of how mesmerizing the pink hair man would look in nothing but his birthday suit. 

He is about to run after the beauty when his secretary, Taeil, stops him whilst saying, “It’s better to stay away from him, Sire.”

Frowning, Johnny turns to look at Taeil. The beauty is still in his line of sight, now stopping by at a nearby shop just a few metres away from Johnny. “Why?” 

“He’s owned, Sire,” answers Taeil.

Johnny shifts his eyes back on the becoming gentleman, scrutinizing his long exposed neck this time. Peeking through the collar, Johnny could see the permanent choker-like tattoo with the shape of a lotus as it’s pendant marking the pretty boy’s neck.

“The lotus mark- he’s with the Jung’s,” Taeil adds.

Dejected with the new information he receives, Johnny sighs out loud. “Of course, the pretty ones are never left unoccupied,” he says while still letting his eyes roaming over the boy’s body up and down, wishing the human could be his.Taeil nods, agreeing with his boss’ words.

The pink hair human suddenly turns to look at his back before he quickly bows his head. A man with short brunette hair appears in the scene, wearing a pair of matching black shirt and slack. His shoes are nicely polished, shiny and expensive- looking and his figure is quite impressive, strong and nicely built. There’s an intense aura surrounding the man, alerting both Johnny and Taeil that the newcomer is without any doubt, Jung Jaehyun, the leader of the Jung clan.

Jung Jaehyun chins the pretty boy up to look at him, staring straight into the human’s eyes with so much power that the human seems to involuntarily trembles. He says something to the latter with a serious face on before wrapping his strong arm around the human’s lean waist, pulling the boy close to his chest. The boy seems to gasp, resting his hands on Jaehyun’s chest but he keeps his gaze on his owner still, unmoving. 

Jaehyun kisses his exposed neck and the beautiful boy lets him, closing his eyes while gripping onto Jaehyun’s shirt for dear life. Sharp fangs sparkle under the soft sun rays before it sink down on the human’s nape harshly, earning a loud groan from the said human. He struggles a little, desperately gripping and grasping on Jaehyun’s chest as he does a little kick to break free but the head of Jung’s clan holds him in place, long fingers gripping on the pink hair.

The small fight the human puts on slowly dies down, before he goes completely limp. His arms fall by his side, immobile as fresh tears trail down his cheeks. Jung Jaehyun easily hauls the human up in his arms, cradling the now doll-like boy like he’s lifting his bride. 

Leftover blood smears on his lips and Johnny shivers, thinking that the scene unravel before him is pure savage, heartless. If he owns the beautiful human, God knows he would treasure him and shower him with lots of love. 

An unsettling feeling rumbles in his stomach when Jung Jaehyun’s dark orbs suddenly meet Johnny’s. The glare he gives causing Johnny to feel sick. While still glaring at Johnny, Jaehyun gives the semi-conscious human a kiss on his forehead before he finally tears his eyes away from Johnny.

“He knows you’ve been staring at his human and Jung Jaehyun doesn’t like it,” Taeil comments, watching Jung Jaehyun walks away from the scene.

“He’s showing off. What a bastard.”

“He’s warning you, sire. Claiming his human right in front of you to prove that he owns the boy. It’s better if you forget about the human, sire.”

With a sigh, Johnny turns to look at Taeil. “Indeed, we don’t want to be on the Jung’s bad side,”

—----

Jaehyun puts his favourite pet human on top of his king-sized bed. The human just stares at him as Jaehyun combs the strands of pink hair away from hiding his temple before leaning down to plant a kiss on it. The kiss trails down until his collarbone and his pet whimpers, knowing what awaits him after this.

“I-”

“Silent.”

The human immediately bites down his lip, his resistance forgotten. Jaehyun roughly slides the white kimono down pass the boy’s shoulders, exposing his pink nipples. He kisses one of them, sucking on it lightly, earning a series of sweet moan from the boy underneath him. His one hand travels down to grip onto the boy’s milky thigh, sensually rubbing it with his fingers, teasingly tugging onto his underwear.

“Do you like it when he looks at you, Taeyong?”

Taeyong can only cry and whimper when Jaehyun pulls his shorts down to his ankle and spread his legs wide. He couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t resist anything Jaehyun does to him at this moment. A gasp escapes from his lips when he feels Jaehyun’s one finger plunges into his hole. He pants, muttering apologies for things he doesn’t even know what he did wrong.

Jaehyun pulls his finger out only to add another digit before he forces his way in again, this time deeper. Taeyong screams, hurting when Jaehyun’s nails scrap against his insides as he thrusts his fingers in and out.

“Do you want him to see you like this? To touch you like this?”

“I’m- I’m sorry, master. Forgive me, please.”

The vampire scoffs, pulling his fingers out to unzip his pants.“I told you to stay inside didn’t I? I told you to not leave my side but you did, you dare to wander off! Have you imagined what could have happen to you?!”

Taeyong cries harder as Jaehyun settles between his legs, lower half naked. He lifts the boy’s thighs on top of his, slightly folding the small frame in half. His larger body hovering on top of Taeyong, caging the boy in with his arms.

“Master, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” the human whispers between his sobs.

Jaehyun sighs, leaning closer to kiss Taeyong’s wet cheeks. He pecks his lips before saying, “Now promise me you won’t leave my side again. Promise me you won’t go anywhere without me or my permission.”

Taeyong hurriedly nods his head. “I promise. I promise.”

“Good boy.” Another kiss on Taeyong’s pretty lips as he wraps Taeyong’s arms around his neck.

Taeyong gasps, nails digging into Jaehyun’s back when Jaehyun pushes himself in. Jaehyun is big and thick, stretching Taeyong’s inside wide. This isn’t the first time Jaehyun holds Taeyong but Taeyong is still tight, clenching onto his rod like a virgin.

He kisses the side of Taeyong’s head as he pushes his cock deeper into the boy, earning groans and sobs from the human beneath him. When Jaehyun feels Taeyong’s muscle finally relaxes around him, he begins to pull out as gently as he could then pushes back in. The human whimpers, mouth gaping open, desperately gasping for air. His body rocks back and forth, following Jaehyun’s inconsistent rhythm. 

Taeyong could feel his master’s cock brushing against his spot and the pain starts to disappear, replaced by a weird sensation that he knows all too well. Jaehyun starts to pick up his pace, feeling that his climax is almost there. He lifts the boy’s thighs up on his arms and pulls him closer until he is just a breath away from Taeyong’s neck. Taeyong screams, toes curling when Jaehyun fucks him harder and deeper. Sharp fangs once again sinks into the human’s fair skin and Taeyong feels completely drain, physically and mentally, feeling himself being dragged out from his consciousness. 

The last thrust hurts more as Jaehyun rams his cock into his ass and ejaculates. Heavy body slumps against Taeyong’s smaller ones. Hot sticky cum wets his insides, burying deep in his anus that Taeyong shivers at the sensation. Jaehyun pulls away from his neck and licks the excess blood from his lip as he stares down at his human pet. 

His pink hair is damp and messy with sweat, sticking out all over the place and his face is wet with tears. The pink blush tainting Taeyong’s skin makes the human looks extremely tempting and Jaehyun swears he could go for a second round. But seeing Taeyong slowly slipping away from his consciousness stops Jaehyun from following his lust. Taeyong looks completely tired and sore that even when Jaehyun moves a little inside of him, the human involuntarily trembles. 

The vampire sighs, kissing the boy on his temple. He decides to let Taeyong off the hook for today. Plus, Jaehyun realizes how fragile his pet human is compared to his previous servants. Taeyong easily bruised and he reddens vibrantly. The last thing he wants is to break Lee Taeyong. 

--

“Master are you still mad?” Taeyong asks, fear is evident between his orbs. He is still on Jaehyun’s bed in his white kimono and his lower half is still sore. He notices a magical chain binding him to the king-sized bed from the black choker-like mark around his neck. It’s been quite awhile since his master, Jung Jaehyun restricts his movement like this. 

The first time he was tied was when Jaehyun first caught him to be his human pet, which was about two months ago. Taeyong tried to escape numerous times before only to be dragged back inside his captor’s fancy bedroom and then left motionless the moment Jaehyun suck his blood. 

It took Jaehyun one month to tame Taeyong and stop him from attempting to escape. Taeyong put on quite a fight that left Jaehyun speechless and annoyed but he decides he likes feisty, stubborn Taeyong; Jaehyun enjoys the challenge.

Jaehyun first took Taeyong’s virginity soon after Taeyong stopped his escape attempt. He had immobilized the boy before him and tried his best to soothe the panic stricken Taeyong with gentle touches and kisses. Jaehyun did not expect Taeyong to give in, shyly clinging onto Jaehyun’s back as the vampire spread his legs open. It might be the sexual tension that had pent up in the little human body that causes Taeyong to just moan and pant when Jaehyun fucked him on the very same bed. The only objection Taeyong voiced out was when Jaehyun cum inside of him.

“Master?” Taeyong calls out again, pulling onto the chain with a frown laces on his beautiful face.

Jaehyun sighs, standing up and making his way to his human pet. To be honest, Jaehyun is no longer mad at Taeyong; he could not stay mad at the human for long as the boy’s sweet voice and pretty lips always puts out the fire in his heart without much effort. He sinks at the edge of the bed, cupping Taeyong’s small face in his hand. “Just a little,” Jaehyun lies.

The pink hair human scowls deeper, looking down on his frail fingers that Jaehyun always wants to bite on but fear he would hurt them instead with his sharp fangs. “I’m terribly sorry, master. I didn’t even talk to that man nor even realize he was there. I know I’m in the wrong from sneaking out but I just wanted to see the snow. I promise I won’t do it again.”

Jaehyun leans in to capture Taeyong’s pouty lips with a kiss to which Taeyong moans in surprise. 

Lee Taeyong never knew what he did wrong to deserve such punishment from the universe. He was living a normal, dull life before the notorious Jung Jaehyun set his eyes on him.They met by chance; Taeyong was on his way home from his part time work at the local library and Jaehyun was passing by the street in his black limousine. Before Taeyong could digest what was happening, the limousine that just passed him reversed and Jung Jaehyun suddenly reached out for Taeyong’s arm and pulled him inside the car. 

He remembers how petrified he was when he saw Jaehyun’s eyes changed it’s shade from brown to red, remembers how painful it was when the vampire yanked his locks backward and took a huge, deep bite on his nape. Since then, Taeyong has been here, in Jaehyun’s private palace, away from the humans, away from safety and comfort.

But all is not bad. Jaehyun feeds him with fancy food he have never seen before. He can’t even pronounce some of the names correctly without biting on his tongue. Jaehyun makes sure to dress him with all luxurious clothes depending on his mood or current interest but Taeyong knows, Jaehyun likes him best in classic yet royal-like kimono attire. The leader of the Jung clan brings him books and even build a home cinema just to keep the human entertained.

Of course all good things come with an expesive price. Aside from having to be Jung Jaehyun’s blood bank, Lee Taeyong also has to satisfy the vampire’s carnal desire. He has to keep up with his captor’s rough treatment and touch, has to withstand Jaehyun’s outburst on his bad days and Taeyong has to deal with Jaehyun’s possesive side.

 Thanks to the butlers, Taeyong finds out that Jung Jaehyun has a lot of human pet before him but none of them stay as long as Taeyong. Some ended up so broken, died and in certain cases, Jaehyun simply got tired of playing with his toys. Taeyong is the first ever human to pique Jaehyun’s interest for 2 months straight, now almost approaching the third month. The last pet only lasts for 2 weeks before he dies due to anemia.They even said that Jaehyun is the gentlest when he is with Taeyong, holding Taeyong like he might break Taeyong into pieces if he put more pressure than necessary. He’s careful not leave scars on Taeyong’s porcelain-like skin whenever they had sex. 

Jaehyun gives in the moment Taeyong pouts and looks at him with his wide, beautiful eyes. With a simple tug, the chain bursts and vanishes into thin air. “Happy?”

The pink hair beauty grins, nodding his head. “Thank you,” Jaehyun doesn’t know how to treat humans properly but he’ll learn just to keep that smile on Taeyong’s face. 

Fuck I’m so in love with him, the vampire thinks as he scoops Taeyong on his lap and kisses the human right on the lips. 

[murderincrp]

PROFILE LOADED...「LEE SEONGHWA」「UNAFFILIATED」「THIRTY」

“Thirty-year-old CEO, KIDNAPPER and HUMAN TRAFFICKER that goes by the alias ‘GRAY’. No known allies.”

✘ THREAT LEVEL HIGH. PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION...

WARNING: BULLYING, VIOLENCE, PARENTAL DEATH

[ BACKGROUND... ]

lee seonghwa is an only child, born and raised in seoul.

he is the pride and joy of his parents, who are delighted to have a baby boy. he’s spoiled from the very beginning. material items flourish his room. his parents flaunt him on the streets. he’s such a handsome boy. he’s taught that he’s so handsome, so smart, and he believes it all.

of course he excels in school; why wouldn’t he? he’s the son of a wealthy businessman and a nurse. his life is practically settled. he goes to private academies and schools where only the elite can attend. he excels in clubs, sports, everything. he works so hard to impress his family and he gets little in return but money and free time. of course he craves being with his family but this was good enough.

eventually he learns that money can give you all sorts of power. like paying a bunch of kids to take one of the kids in his middle school on scholarship and leave him hanging by his pants upside down in the boys washroom. he is never caught because he paid the kids for their time. he learns many kinds of things that day. and he leans that money will never get you caught.

he continues being an asshole through his school years but he gets perfect grades so his parents don’t give a shit. and he’s fine with that. he bullies others, is considered a kingka in the school that he essentially runs. he’s with another girl every other week, tossing them aside when he’s finished. eventually he grows tired and actually snags a few in the closet boys, whom he also humiliates after using them. he has this power, this thrill and love for this kind of game.

after high school, he goes to the army. he hates it at first, no one can be openly bought with money here. but as soon as he becomes a higher rank, he uses it to his advantage: he manipulates and puts his juniors through hell and back. he loves it. he and his seniors get along so well while his juniors loathe the moment they wake up. 

five months before he is supposed to be released, his mother passes away.

the result? an altercation in the hospital where a gang member opened fire after seeing his best friend dead. his mother is one of the three staff members killed. he is floored, shocked, completely destroyed. he loved his mother with all his heart and to have her gone because of someone else’s selfishness. it’s the very first time he feels such hatred towards another human, where he is ready to kill anyone to bring her back.

once released, he decides to take some time to actually learn how to study. it takes him some time to actually get his footing and he actually manages to make it into the police academy two years later. he’s in with fresh faced kids from the army and others who clearly want to make a difference. just like him.

he lasts one year until he’s kicked out for beating the shit out of another potential officer, after the officer tried to diss him and his family, especially his mother. seonghwa grabbed the man, slammed him onto the ground and just began to beat the shit out of him. a week later, he’s dismissed from the academy.

after seeing his son so down and low at the ripe age of twenty four, seonghwa’s father makes him a deal. he could potentially come and work at his work, but his work would have to be secretive. until this age, seonghwa had assumed that his father had done just simple business things. but in this year, it’s revealed his father runs one of the biggest underground human trafficking runs in all of asia: with five locations (south korea, japan, cambodia, vietnam and thailand). 

what many assumed was that seonghwa was not cut out for this life. but in the end he becomes an integral part of the operations. he travels around, learning new languages and helping his father make executive business decisions as well as investing in newer technology to keep the police off their trails. he helps anyone in any department and makes a name for himself when he beats the shit out of one of their pimps who was trying to extort extra money from the prostitutes.

seonghwa has helped turned the seoul branch into one of the most profitable branches, right after cambodia.

his father is proud and two years ago, on his twenty ninth birthday, his father hands the title of ‘ceo’ to his son. of course the business front of his company is supposed to work with international trade; though with bodies and not stocks.

and now he’s on the prowl on the streets of seoul, looking for some newer, fresher faces to replace the ones who are retiring out.

seonghwa is successful. he’s managed to find some new meat in the inner workings of seoul in the shape of an eighteen year old boy by the name of kim jinhong. he’s a feisty little one at first but seonghwa makes quick work in taming him. now seonghwa continues to track down others while staying under the radar of the police.

[ BEHAVIOR... ]

lee seonghwa is a lot of things: a bastard of a man could really be his best characterization. he’s a patient stalker, the type to just sit back and wait for things to go his way once the pieces are in place. he’s the type to sit back and watch the world burn, even if that’s years in advance. he loves playing the waiting game and rarely loses his patience- when he does, there’s hell to be wrought upon the earth.

seonghwa uses all of these traits in really…. interesting ways- choosing to instead attempt to steal pieces of gangs, as if he was a ghost simply passing through. if he were to use his intelligence for good things, he could still be as powerful as he is now, but there is little fear associated with being good. seonghwa loves the dark powers he has and the fact that police have yet to really totally catch up to him… yet. of course, he’s also the type to let them in on fun, little secrets here and there.

like the current whereabouts of a certain missing teenager: kim jinhong.

[thesassybooskter]

THE BASTARD BILLIONAIRE by Jessica Lemmon: Excerpt, Top 5 List & Giveaway

AVAILABLE FEBRUARY 28TH 2017

Beauty and the Beastly Billionaire . . .

Eli Crane is one tough bastard. After an explosion left him injured and honorably discharged from the Marines, all he wants is to be left alone. Yet his brothers insist he take a greater role in the family business. They’ve hired him ten personal assistants—and Eli sent each one packing as fast as possible. But when beautiful number eleven walks through the door, Eli will do anything to make her stay.

  Isabella Sawyer’s employment agency can’t afford to lose Eli Crane’s business. Her plan: to personally take on the role of his PA, and secure her reputation with the wealthy elite in Chicago. But this beauty and her hot billionaire bad boy soon find themselves mixing business with pleasure in the most delicious ways. And passionate, stubborn Isabella won’t rest until she tames this wicked beast . . .

  Buy Online: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Add to Goodreads

  TOP 5 FAVORITE LINES FROM THE BASTARD BILLIONAIRE

#5~ Isabella Sawyer’s smart-aleck remark when Eli fires her for the umpteenth time:

 “Apologies, Eli, but I’m not changing my shoes.” She came into his office, her hips swaying with each sure step she took toward him.

“Fine. Then you’re fired.”

“Oh, no, not again.”

  #4~ Merina, the heroine from The Bastard Billionaire shows up as yet another feisty woman who refuses to bow to Eli’s gruffness.

“I can go out into public, you know,” he grumbled, setting the beer bottle next to his plate—on the table, no coaster, thank you very much. “You guys don’t have to come in here and serve me.”

He was skilled at his new role of miserable bastard, and since everyone expected it now, he was determined to excel.

“Oh but we do, Lord Crane.” Merina smiled demurely as she leaned over and handed him a glass.

  #3~ I loved this line after Eli and Isa had sex—his honesty cracked me up!

“I like this.” She touched the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been trying to get you to smile since I started working here.”

“Well now you know how to do it.”

  #2~ Bold Isabella knows how to ask for what she wants!

“Is kissing you in my marching orders for tomorrow night?” he asked, his eyes picking up a trace of heat.

She wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. No way. No how.

“Yes,” she answered. “Need to practice?”

  #1~ Eli’s worry that he didn’t have what it took is my favorite line in the book.

He’d done what he needed to be a good soldier.

Now that he wasn’t a soldier, he wasn’t sure what it took to be a good man.

  Excerpt

Standing, she smoothed her hands down her pants and flipped her hair. She had planned to quietly finish her work and leave without seeing him again. No such luck. And no hiding that she was heading his way when her heels clicked along the concrete floor.

Well.

The kiss had happened. The button incident had happened. There was no taking it back. Regardless of how either of them felt about it, she was going to continue working here. So. She would deal with the here and now.

Since the sun was shining, Eli’s lair was welcome instead of foreboding. No fire cracked in the hearth today. Also unlike his usual, he wasn’t at his desk. He was at the printer.

“This yours?” He offered a sheet of paper.

“Yes.” She couldn’t keep from explaining. “Pressed the Print button by accident.”

“Mi printer es su printer.”

Isa accepted the document and Eli sank his hands into his jeans pockets, his forearms flexing with the movement.

“I wasn’t—”

“I shouldn’t—” they said at the same time.

He pursed his lips and she looked at her shoes. “Go ahead.” She was going to say, I wasn’t offended when you kissed me, but now that she’d had a millisecond to think it through, maybe she should pretend the kiss hadn’t happened. Which was . . . impossible. Standing this close to him, it’s all she could think about.

“I shouldn’t have ruined your shirt,” he said.

“I dared you to.”

“Why?” His eyebrows compressed along with his lips.

“Because you have accepted the role of beast, but I don’t believe that’s who you are.” She let her gaze linger on his face before tracking down his body. “And because I like a challenge.”

“Do you?” He took a wide step toward her.

She matched his move and took one step closer to him. “Yes. I don’t wilt easily.”

He threaded her hair between his fingers, a look of longing and hurt mingling in his eyes. “I was about to lie and say I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Shivers climbed her spine as she remembered how firm his lips felt against hers. “Maybe . . . you shouldn’t have stopped.”

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    About Jessica Lemmon

A former job-hopper, Jessica Lemmon resides in Ohio with her husband and rescue dog. She holds a degree in graphic design currently gathering dust in an impressive frame. When she’s not writing super-sexy heroes, she can be found cooking, drawing, drinking coffee (okay, wine), and eating potato chips. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a purpose, and with His help, you can create the life you want.

Jessica is a social media junkie who loves to hear from readers.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

THE BASTARD BILLIONAIRE by Jessica Lemmon: Excerpt, Top 5 List & Giveaway was originally published on The Sassy Bookster

[lostpensioner]

I Was Mugged Last Night.

Lately I’m being mugged a lot. I blame myself. It’s because I want to be a writer. And, I suppose, it’s an age thing.

 Because I’ve been feeling a bit unfulfilled these days, I’ve started to try writing something. I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s a belief that I was born with some bit of talent for writing. I’ve wasted this talent so far. But maybe it’s not too late to become an overnight literary sensation, thus justifying my existence and making a few quid at the same time.

 I’ve always been attracted to the life of the writer. It can give you all of the benefits of having a famous name with none of the disadvantages of having a famous face. If I were forced to choose one aspect of the writers’ lifestyle which I find unattractive it would be the actual business of sitting down and writing stuff. It can’t be healthy to spend that amount of time sitting down.

 But I’ve started to force myself to climb the stairs every evening, sit myself down at the desk in the study and try to put manners on a few words. It turns out that words are as unbiddable as an unruly puppy.

 Within minutes of my starting up the laptop last night the words began to act up. At first they gave the impression of being too individualistic to be able to co-operate with each other. They simply refused to join together into sentences which even slightly resembled what I was thinking or feeling. The simplest idea I tried to convey would get lost in the midst of a long, convoluted, ungrammatical, inelegant string of inanity which had to be read several times in order to be understood. But, even then, the reader would be left guessing their meaning rather than being any way confident they knew what I was banging on about.

 But, as time passed, the words started to band together and gang up on me. Although reluctant to co-operate with each other for expressive purposes, they were more than willing to form a temporary alliance if it meant they could beat me up.

 At first the small words were reluctant to cause any trouble. They lack the self-belief to start a revolution. It was the big, polysyllabic bastards who put their heads above the parapet first. “Belligerent”, not surprisingly, was the first to start throwing shapes, along with his friends “Malcontent” and “Apoplectic”. The three of them circled me, taunting me. “You’re no writer”, they sneered. “You’re not man enough to tame feisty thoroughbreds like us.” I suppressed the urge to gulp and tried to arrange my facial features into a vague semblance of One Who Is In Command. I don’t think I succeeded. Not only did the first three seem to become emboldened, but I noticed that some of the milder words were coming out from their hiding places and joining the circle. “Disgruntled” sneered at me and made that hand gesture people make when they’re inviting you to fight. “Irritation” began to make a really annoying whistling noise.

 I knew I had to do something, quickly, to establish my control. I needed weapons. I lunged towards the desk and picked up Roget’s Thesaurus in one hand and the Oxford Guide to English Usage in the other. I brandished them as menacingly as I could. “Come on”, I taunted. “Do your worst. You’re no match for me. There’s only five of you. It will take more than five lexical louts to withstand the might of The Lost Pensioner!”

 No sooner had I spoken than I began to realise that my numerical assessment of the situation was inaccurate. Some small words were beginning to find their courage and were bringing up the rear. I recognised “The”, “And” and “On”. I was genuinely taken aback by their joining in. They’d been good friends of mine for a long time. Since my teenage years, in fact. Between the ages of fourteen and nineteen we’d been inseparable. Back then I communicated almost exclusively in monosyllables. I couldn’t believe that these old friends would turn on me now.

 I shook my head in disappointed disbelief. “The”, I pleaded. “How could you? You’ve always been my favourite definite article. “And”, I can’t believe you’re doing this. I’ve always said that if my daughter wanted to marry a conjunction I hope it would be you. And “On”, I’m shocked at you. A nice little preposition like you hanging around with these thugs. I’ve a good mind to tell your mother”.

 The three monosyllables looked at each other with just a smidgen of guilt in their eyes. But their blood was up and they were not going to back down. “Oh we might have been friends once, when you were young,” said a barely restrained “The”. “But then you outgrew us, didn’t you? As you grew into adulthood you started hanging around with the likes of “Ambition” and “Confidence.””  “Yeah, ye bollix”, chipped in “And”, who always liked to add something. “Then, when you were middle aged, it was all about “Respectability” and “Self-satisfaction”. I could see that “On” didn’t really have anything he desperately needed to get off his chest, but he felt obliged to support his friends. “And now you’re just a longwinded auld shite”, he contributed. “With your big, long words and your big, long, boring sentences. Who are you tryin’ to impress?”

 To demonstrate his disgust, “On” turned his back to me, very slowly and dramatically. Whereupon he became “No”, my favourite word when I was two. By now I was struggling to fight back the tears.

 “This is all very touchin’”, said “Belligerent”. “But can we get on with the fight?”

 Attack, apparently, is the best form of defence. And so, I decided to engage in a bit of pre-emptive shock and awe. I let out what I hoped was a blood-curdling howl and launched myself at my attackers, using the two books to rain down what I hoped were blow after magnificent blow on them. In hindsight, I think the howl came out as more of a yelp and my attack took on the character of someone flailing ineffectually at midges.

 “Now here’s what’s going to happen”, I roared. “You’re all going to do what I tell you. You will line up in orderly sentences. You will then join together in elegant paragraphs. And when we’ve done that for a year we’ll form a novel of extraordinary breadth, scope and originality”.

 “Malcontent” was the first to titter. Gradually the others joined in. Soon more words, of varying length, became emboldened and joined the circle. The sound of scornful laughter became deafening. They were so busy holding their sides in helpless laughter that they became, momentarily, incapable of fighting. I seized my opportunity. I laid into them mercilessly. The two heavy hardbacks began to find their targets. Some of the words I managed to kill, some I injured and some I managed to beat into submission.

 The study was now a gory mess of red ink. I pointed commandingly at the blank page and bid them take their places. Reluctantly they shuffled onto the page and formed themselves into this post which now glares back at me like a sulky teenager who didn’t ask to be born.

[holylulusworld]

Opposite Sides - Part 1 - Two Sides of a Coin

Summary: Working at a diner never brought you much attention until not one but two Winchesters show interested in you…

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Reader, Mobster!Sam x Reader

Characters: OFC Earl Fitzgerald, Benny Lafitte, Cole Trenton

A/N: This is a Mafia AU in which Dean + Sam are brother but hate each other. Something happened years ago which made them part ways. Earl Fitzgerald is Garth’s dad in this story.

Warnings: angst, language, tension, flirting, mentions of sickness, concurrence, both men are brothers but hate each other, one girl between two dangerous men, mentions of characters death (barely), feisty reader

Opposite Sides Masterlist

“It’s him again, honey. Can you take care of your favorite customer or shall I kick him out?” While your boss eyes your ‘favorite’ customer warily you shake your head, patting his wrinkly hand.

“Don’t worry, Earl. He’s cocky, self-centered and annoying, but I think he’s harmless. Let me bring him coffee, pie and the Tuesday’s Special and he’s gone for good.”

‘At least I hope so,’ you think to yourself as you do not want to worry your boss.

For weeks it is always the same game. That wealthy guy enters the diner you are working in, sits at the counter, a cocky grin on his lips and he will only talk to you.

“Good morning. What can I bring you today?” The man’s eyes lit up and he gives you a dirty grin again. 

You would call him attractive, charming even, but you are used to wealthy guys coming through town to check on the girls to have a bit of fun.

“You look beautiful today, Sweetheart.” He is glancing at the missing name tag you refuse to wear as you do not want anyone to yell your name through the diner. “Will you tell me your name today?”

“Listen, you are nice to look at and charming, but I told you I’ve got no time for flirting, dates or anything in between. My life is…” Biting your tongue you pour him a coffee, black, no sugar as he likes it.

“Maybe I can help you, pretty girl. I’d like to help a nice girl out.” His eyes search your face, as he tries to find a way to make you open up to him.

“I don’t need your help, okay. Order or leave it but do not act as if you are interested in me. I know guys like you believe someone working at a diner is easy prey. If you need to get laid, look somewhere else. In this sleepy town we look out for each other and you have quite the reputation…”

“I have?” Smirking he leans closer to brush his fingers over your hand. “What do people say, Sweetheart?”

“I don’t know much. All I know is that there is this cocky guy, green eyes, bowlegs who calls girls Sweetheart. He’s the love them and leave the guy or rather…” Leaning closer, your lips inches from his face you smirk. “The fuck them and leave the girl heartbroken guy.”

“Interesting, Sweetheart.” Using the pet name on purpose the man shrugs his coat off. “I think I’ll stay a bit longer today. I want your Tuesday’s Special, a piece of your cherry pie and more coffee.”

“Y/N, can you help me over here?” You love Earl, you do, but right now – you want to strangle him. He just let your name slip after you managed to not tell the cocky stranger your name for over four months.

“Y/N, nice name for a pretty girl.” Now he holds out his hand and you shake it, while you roll your eyes. “I am Dean, and I’d like to ask you out.”

“No.” His hand won’t let go of yours but you use all your strength and he drops his hand, sighing heavily.

“I will change your no into a yes. If I must come here daily, I’ll do so…” Dean smirks as you round the counter to help Earl clean the table. “You will see, Sweetheart.”

“You can try, but you will not succeed. I do not need a man in my life.” Turning your back on Dean you can see the smirk tugging at his lips.

No other woman ever said no to Dean Winchester – one of the most dangerous men in Lebanon.

“Boss, you sure you want to do this. I can go in, find out why your brother hangs out at the diner almost daily and come back without anyone noticing.” Looking at the diner you are working at Sam shakes his head.

“I have to check it out, Cole. Something seems to be fishy about this diner. According to the information, only three people are working at the diner. Old geezer called Earl Fitzgerald, the owner, his wife Maude and a waitress called Y/N.”

“What’s fishy about a diner?” Cole looks at the papers in the manila folder, not getting why Sam and Dean are interested in a boring diner.

“That waitress, she came to town four months ago, since then, my beloved brother is at this place almost daily. I bet she is one of his rats in town. This is neutral ground. He agreed to not start a business here, just like me.” Sam’s eyes narrow as he watches you toss garbage into the dumpster.

“I’ll wait here, call me if you need back-up.”

“Hello, what can I bring you?” Looking at the tall man who seems to study the menu you try to give him a fake smile.

You are tired, your feet burn, and your head is pounding but you manage to keep a straight face. “Coffee, tea or rather one of our famous milk-shakes?”

The man eyes you warily, let his hazel orbs wander all over your appearance before they land on your tired face. “Coffee is fine, Miss.”

“Anything else? Pie, a burger or a salad? You look more like the salad guy.” The first genuine smile meets the stranger as he nods thoughtfully.

“Salad would be nice. Maybe with chicken and fresh fruits?” His voice is smooth when he asks you about the menu.

“I’ll bring you something, Sir. Just a minute.” When you want to pass him by, he grasps for your hand, to have a look at your wrist. Surprised he raises an eyebrow to not find a tattoo.

“I don’t know how people handle things where you come from, but in our town, men do not touch a girl without her allowance. Let go or…” He drops your hand, mumbling an apology as you shake your head.

“Sorry. I was just…sorry.” The man seems to be confused as you storm off to get his salad.

“I should spit into that bastard’s salad, Sweetie. He just grabbed your arm.” Earl slides his fingers over the baseball bat hidden under the counter. “I can hit him with my bat.”

“Some men believe they can touch a girl as they are used to get what they want. Look at him, Earl.” Pointing toward the tall man looking at you, an amused smirk on his lips. “He looks like that other guy, Winchester.”

“Winchester?” Earl’s heart begins to race as his eyes drift toward the tall man at his table. “Holy fuck, Sweetie. Those are dangerous men!”

“You mean annoying, Earl.” Taking the salad out of Maude’s hands you give Earl a smirk. “Guys like Dean Winchester are all bark, no bite.”

“You don’t understand…they are bad news…” Maude’s stammers as you walk back toward the man to hand him his salad.

“Made with love.” You almost toss the salad onto the table, followed but you, tossing a napkin at the tall man but his smirk never fades.

“You’re a feisty one, I see.” His eyes drink you in once again and he suddenly knows why Dean comes to the diner almost daily. “It’s you, nothing else. Of course,…good…”

“What’s so funny? If you do not want to eat the salad, go to a fine restaurant, and do not waste our time, Sir.” You turn to leave but his hand slides over yours and you freeze as he asks you to stay.

“My name is Sam, feisty girl. Sam Winchester and I’d like you to eat with me. How about we go out tonight? I know a nice restaurant. We could get to know each other better and more…”

He’s self-confident, you give him that, but the bowl with the salad you empty over his head let him not look as smooth as before.

“Listen, buddy. I will tell you the same thing I told the other Winchester. I do not know if there is a conference of you in our nice little town but between the two of us. Neither you nor the guy calling himself Dean will get a chance, okay. I will not spread my legs for any of you. Now move your ass out of here and do not come back.”

Storming off you cannot see Sam starts to laugh with his full body. No girl, not even a guy, ever dared to pull such a stunt. Everyone else would have been too afraid.

“That girl is golden, Earl. You need to keep her.” Sam removes the salad from his hair as the dressing runs down his neck.

“I think this will be my favorite diner from now on. The salad was delicious…” Still laughing Sam tosses money onto the counter before he gets up to leave.

“Have a great day, Sir.” Earl chokes out while you watch the tall man with angry eyes. He gives you a dirty grin, nodding before he leaves the diner.

“Such an idiot…”

“Boss? Uh—what happened to your hair?” Cole looks at Sam who still cannot stop laughing. “Boss?”

“I think that I just found the girl I am going to marry. Feisty little brat. I’ll enjoy taming her for sure.” Looking at the diner Sam chuckles again. “I know why my brother comes here. He’s after my girl, but he won’t get her.”

“Shall I get her for you, boss?” Glancing at his boss Cole gulps hard as Sam shakes his head.

“Nah, Cole. I will have to put some effort into wooing for this one. I told you…” Now Sam’s eyes darken and a smirk appears on his lips. “I am going to marry that one and no one will stop me.”

“Sam was at the diner? He was at my diner and Y/N tossed salad onto his head?” Chuckling Dean cannot take his eyes off you.

You are talking to the nurse taking care of your sick mom, sniffling silently as she tells you something Dean can’t hear.

“Boss, girl looks pretty sad. I got all the information you wanted.” Benny hands Dean a folder as said man cannot take his eyes off you.

“Why was Sam at my diner? Why did Y/N empty the bowl with salad over his head? We need to keep an eye on my beloved brother. I can’t let him get close to my chosen bride.” Lower lip trapped between his teeth Dean groans as you walk into your bedroom to strip your clothes off.

The light is on and you forgot to close your curtains so he can watch you walk around in your underwear. “I dare you to watch my girl, Benny.”

“My eyes are closed boss but I suggest, you should do the same. That’s kinda creepy, Dean.”

“You’re right, but damn she’s making me rock-hard for months. I have to make her mine soon or my dick is going to go on a strike for sure.” 

Snickering Dean sighs as you close the curtains, unaware a mobster just got a glimpse of your panties. He looks up at your window for a moment longer before Benny taps his shoulder.

“I think there is someone else watching your girl. Black SUV, no light to our left. Shall I get the gun ready?” Dean’s eyes drift toward the well-known SUV on the other side of the street.

“Figures. Sammy and I are two sides of one coin. I should have known he will discover my new love interest sooner or later but this time – he won’t win. This time the girl I love will not die due to his mistake. Let’s go…”

“Evening, gentlemen. Nice night to sit in a car and watch my girl. I suggest you and your dog leave this part of the town. It’s neutral ground, so none of your business, Sam.” 

Dean’s eyes narrow as Sam gives him a cold smirk. “Didn’t know she’s yours, Dean. I don’t think that girl is interested in a loser like you. I think…” Stepping closer Sam rolls his shoulders. “She will go for the younger and more potent brother…”

“Yeah. That went well last time.” Teeth gritted Dean balls his hands into fists. “With me, Melody could still be alive. It’s your fault she got killed.”

“It was yours, Dean. You and your jealousy made her…” Sam takes a deep shaky breath before he meets his brother's eyes. “She ran away as you wouldn’t stop causing trouble. It was your fault they found her and…”

“Mine? You couldn’t protect her, Sammy. It was not my fault you forbid me to protect her! I was ready to accept she chose you, not me but you had to cut me out of her life completely! I would’ve killed for her…” Benny needs to hold his boss back as all the pent-up emotions well up once again.

“…and you did, didn’t you? As far as I know, you found them all and it was a massacre according to my little rat.” Sam huffs as his brother looks at his hands as if they are blood-stained like all those years ago.

“I had no choice. You know I had to avenge her. It’s not as if anyone would ever miss those monsters…”

“Monsters. Bold coming from a monster. That’s the reason Melody turn toward me. She was frightened you would hurt her one day. It was fear which made her fall into my arms…” Sam’s words hurt Dean more than a gun or knife ever could. “She didn’t feel safe with you, Dean.”

“Monster…she believed I am a monster?” Sam’s eyes don’t give away it pains him to hurt Dean even more. His brother is like a wounded animal since Melody’s death but he can’t give in. – Not if he wants to win you over.

“I think we are done here. That’s my girl. Hands off, Dean.”

“Well, Sammy. I saw her first and she did not empty a bowl with salad over my head. I think…” Eyes full of mischief Dean straightens his back. “This time the girl will go home with me as…” 

Opening his wallet Dean tosses a picture of Melody, Sam, and him on the Impala to Sam’s feet. 

“...unlike the unstable girl you got killed, Y/N is a strong girl and in the end, Belle loved the beast more than the smooth gentleman…”

Turning around Dean storms off, leaving a stunned and heartbroken brother behind. Sam never thought Dean would toss the only picture he got left of Melody away.

Sam doesn’t know Dean kept on hanging on the thought one day Melody would’ve chosen him…

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