#and Nick wouldn’t have been betrayed

[paedenchucks]

I wonder if there was a lot of tension and anger between Lark and Sparrow and the other boys after they unleashed the Doodler. We know Grant was thoroughly fucked up by his time in the Forgotten Realms and that his entire youth and adulthood have been marked by atrocities. Who knows what else transpired in the years between then and now. As adults they’re all working together to stop the Doodler but there must be times where the others resent Lark for starting the end of the world.

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for my sixteenth birthday because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[stvrni0lo]

𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫

chris sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: reader gets hooked up to the lie detector and the triplets use this to their advantage

warnings/notes: one use of Y/N, one use of profanity

requested?: yes! ↴

- can you do one with chris where the reader gets hooked up to the lie detector and the triplets see this as an opportunity to ask her juicy questions (fave triplet, have you ever been attracted to any of us other than chris) and she says yes but only because they have the same face lol

(request is shortened for clarity)

> > >

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage as your arms and torso were getting wrapped in wires. After hooking them up to the machine, your fingers were also clamped with what looked like clothes pegs. You took a deep breath as the conductor finally sat down.

“Is your name Y/N?” he asked as he stared at the paper before him.

Your heart skipped a beat involuntarily as you answered. “Yes.”

He nodded before asking you a few further questions to make sure he knew what the lines looked like when you were telling the truth.

After giving the triplets the go ahead to ask their questions, they practically shook with excitement. Nick decided to go first.

Your hands twitched slightly as you sat them on the table, palms down. Why did you ever agree to do this?

“Do you have a favorite triplet?” Nick asked smugly.

You huffed upon seeing the look on his face. His smirk made you want to slap it right off - but you knew that this was the least uncomfortable question that he would ask.

“Um- no?” you said. It was more of a question than an answer.

The conductor shook his head. “Lie.”

Hearing the ‘oohs’ and gasps of the boys made you squint your eyes closed. You really didn’t want to answer the question in case it offended them, but you knew they wouldn’t let it go if you didn’t.

They all sat up straighter in their seats, urging you to continue.

“Fine,” you sighed, “It’s Nick.”

After hearing that you were being honest, he clapped his hands together, cheering. He jeered at Matt and Chris, boasting that he was your favorite.

“Wow,” said Chris, feigning offense as raised his eyebrows.

You exhaled air out of your noise, laughing slightly as you rubbed your face. This was already turning out to be the longest 5 minutes of your life.

Matt only rolled his eyes next to Nick before pulling out his phone to ask the next question.

“Have you ever been attracted to any of us besides Chris?”

You and Nick’s eyes shot wide open. Chris only laughed beside him, leaning closer to the table so that he could look over Matt and Nick to see you.

Fuck.

Making eye contact with him, you laughed awkwardly.

“I mean - okay listen. Physically, yes-“ Matt clapped a hand over his mouth, looking over to Chris whose jaw hung open “-but only because you guys look the same!”

Nick laughed in disbelief, his eyes flitting between you and Chris.

“That is true,” said the man near the lie detector.

Chris shook his head as he joined in on Nick’s laughter. “I feel betrayed.”

You knew he wasn’t offended or upset. They were your best friends, and Chris trusted you and his brothers enough to know that nothing would ever happen - it was all just part of the fun.

“We’re having a talk after this,” he added jokingly as he pulled out his phone to get his question ready.

Your face grew hot upon realizing what you had just admitted, avoiding eye contact with the boys as Chris asked the third question. But even if you wanted to, you really couldn’t have lied. Literally.

“When we first met were you initially a Chris girl?”

Nick groaned, rolling his eyes. Matt only leaned back, observing the situation. The questions were getting juicy and they were enjoying pestering you with their curiosity.

“Honestly? Yes. Through and through,” you said confidently, your heart rate finally relaxing a bit.

“True.”

Matt let out a breath, looking to Chris to see his reaction.

“Really?” asked Chris, his eyes never leaving yours despite the fact that Matt was staring at the side of his head.

His brows were furrowed, eyes filled with adoration. Yet he almost looked as if he didn’t believe you.

“Of course. I love you, dude,” you said. As romantic as the moment was you didn’t want to make it awkward for the others in the room by calling him a pet name. This was already becoming very affectionate very quickly.

“True,” said the conductor across from you.

Nick aw’ed as he looked at you. As much as he liked to pretend that your displays of love grossed him out, he was actually really glad that Chris found someone who cared for him as much as you did. Most of all, he was glad Chris was comfortable enough to let his commitment issues go slightly - Chris himself never really thought he would ever be able to confess his love for someone so openly.

“I love you too,” he said finally, his cheeks dusted pink as he looked down.

You waved you hands at Nick and Matt as they gave you little puppy dog looks, as if to say ‘you guys are so cute’. They knew you felt awkward around PDA so they never missed a chance to tease you about it when they could.

Sweat pooling on your face, you tried to move on. “Okay, okay. Just ask the next damn question.”

Never again were you going to let them rope you into one of their stupid video ideas.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

@stargirlv0id

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 19

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: Deep breaths, my friends. We’re almost to the end. ❤️

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Violence, peril, blood and guns, character death…

Part 19: “Sacrifice”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted…but you didn’t answer.

“You there?” he asked. There was a pit forming in his stomach when he glanced up at John. His father met his gaze with furrowed brows that betrayed concern.

The line was silent for one more painful moment. Dean opened his mouth to call out to you again, but a smooth voice interrupted.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” a man replied. “Forgetting something?”

Dean’s heart began to pound. His mouth parted, but for a moment, the words wouldn’t escape.

“Who is this?” he said. His voice was a hint unsteady.

“I think you know, son,” the man replied.

Dean’s wide eyes flicked up to John’s, and the other man sprang into action. He shot a look and a whispered order at Cas, who went running for some IP tracking equipment back in the police car.

Meanwhile, John guided Dean to sit down on the couch. Sam followed them on his brother’s right, while John sat on Dean’s left.

Dean put the phone on speaker between the three of them.

“You’re Daniel Savage, huh?” Dean said. He tried to inject some more control into his tone, like he wasn’t freaking the fuck out. “Man, do I feel special.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Dean-o. I’m doing the same thing your dad’s doing. Hooking the bigger fish.”

Dean’s lips pursed. He glanced at his father, but his attention on the phone turned steely.

“What the hell do you want?” he asked. “Your lackey’s on lockdown. So’s your bastard son. If you want to help him, I’d suggest you turn your ass over to the cops.”

“Yes, Nick’s an idiot. But family, right?” said Daniel. He breathed out a sigh.

But then his voice was firm and calculating. It made Dean’s skin crawl.

“Cards on the table, son. Your daddy’s got something of mine. I’ve got something of yours.”

Dean’s face hardened, but John raised a placating hand; a warning to keep calm. Dean tried to take a breath.

His heart clenched at the mere thought of you being in the same room with that man. Having been taken and hauled to God knows where. He couldn’t imagine how scared you were. And if you were hurt…

Fuck. There was a roiling pit forming in his stomach, his head starting to pound in time with his heartbeat.

Already Cas was back with a laptop and program designed to track the caller’s phone. He connected a USB-like cord to Dean's phone and began fiddling with the settings, trying to get a read. Dean knew he had to keep this fucker talking.

“You have her with you?” he asked.

“Sure do. She’s a pretty little thing.”

Dean’s jaw clenched in a furious glare. “Don’t you fucking touch her, you son of a bitch.”

“Quid pro quo, Dean. What can you do for me?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, as desperation began to escape him. “There’s no way they’re letting Nick go before the trial. It’s out of my dad’s hands.”

“Your dad has no real evidence that my son is anything more than a successful businessman,” said Daniel. “If you really need someone to pin these unfortunate murders on, you had your man in custody…but, oh wait. You gave him immunity.”

Dean’s eyes were desperate when they met Sam’s worried ones, then their father’s. It didn’t matter that John and Cas did have evidence besides Alastair’s testimony. All Dean cared about was you.

He swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. It’s what I want John to do.”

Dean took a moment to close his eyes, pull himself together. His hands squeezed his knees to brace himself. When he next opened his eyes, he let out a sharp breath.

“What do you want then? Aside from Nick somehow breaking loose,” he asked.

“I want your dad to back the fuck off, once and for all,” Daniel said. His voice was more edged, with both warning and a hint of frustration. “Or I’ll make his son live the same pathetic existence he does.”

Dean’s next breath came out harsher, as both John and Sam sharpened at the threat.

“That’s right, Dean. These are my terms of engagement, else I’m gonna have a bonfire with your girl here.” 

It all gripped Dean at once.

Panic, anger, and desperation.

He grabbed the phone and spoke harshly into the speaker.

“Put her on the damn line," he said. "I wanna hear her and know this isn’t a trick.”

Daniel sighed, like he was getting bored. “Oh, all right.”

There was some shuffling, the sound of Daniel’s steps echoing in what sounded like a large room. Dean’s brows furrowed as he heard sounds of your struggle, then your labored breaths, as if a gag had been removed from your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and talk to him,” said Daniel.

Soon enough, your tremulous voice reached him.

“Dean?” you said. You sounded like you were fighting tears; maybe even losing. Dean’s heart broke all the more for it.

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay,” you said, though your voice shook. He hoped you weren’t lying for his sake.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He raised a fist to his mouth, ignoring how it shook. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m going to find you—”

All too soon, the phone was taken away from you.

“Rule number one of negotiations, kid. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Dean’s eyes widened. The next thing he heard was a hard slap. It echoed into the speaker, along with your shout of both surprise and pain, a chair toppling over.

“You fucking bastard!” Dean seethed. “When I find you—”

John interrupted this time, taking the cell phone from Dean. He shot his son a look that was meant to be reassuring, but Dean was too incensed. Sam gripped his shoulder and earned his brother’s gaze. Dean’s chest heaved with the effort of calming his breathing.

“What do you want?” John said into the phone. His voice was clipped and direct.

While he continued to speak, Cas was frowning in frustration over his laptop.

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“I can’t get a lock on his signal. He must have something throwing off the scanner,” Cas replied.

Dean growled in frustration and pushed off the couch. He began to pace the living room, all while he tried to keep an ear on what John was saying lowly into the phone.

By the time he hung up, Dean was raging.

“Fuck this, I’m gonna find her,” he said. John tried to stop him from going anywhere with a hand on his shoulder. Dean knocked him off angrily. Sam also stood, for once on the same page as his father, no matter how much he sympathized.

“Dean, you need to calm down,” John tried.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t ask for this!” Dean shouted. The force of it echoed on the apartment walls. “Matter of fact, I’ve never asked you for a damn thing until now. Only that you’d keep me in the loop on Azazel, and keep her out of this. But you couldn’t even do that, could you?”

Sam was at a loss, looking between his father and brother. Cas was also caught in between, watching the scene with concern, and bated breath.

John’s broad shoulders sunk a bit, along with the deep breath he expelled.

“You’re right,” John said. "You're right, son. And I'm sorry."

His eyes held the weight of his words. Of sincerity. And by degrees, Dean’s anger lessened.

Again, not by much.

“Let’s fix it,” said John. “Once and for all.”

Dean wasn’t fully recovered from his TBI. He’d been cleared for driving, but not yet for full physical exercise, let alone going back to work. The stress of all this was giving him a powerful headache, but there was no way he was going to be sidelined now, on any part of it.

Sam was forced to withdraw the case against Nick Savage, citing lack of evidence to support a trial at this time. The judge gave Sam permission to refile when he was able to build a better case.

John was then tasked with escorting Nick out of prison. Cas, meanwhile, was sitting in his personal car outside the county jail with Dean in the passenger seat. Cas didn’t trust what his friend would do behind the wheel once he saw Nick.

“What happens after Nick gets out?” Dean asked. “Dad’s been cagey about the whole deal.”

“We’re escorting him to the airport,” Cas said. “There we’ll wait for Daniel and make the exchange.”

Nick, for you. That was the deal.

“And then?” Dean asked, his teeth already clenching.

Cas blew out a sigh. “We’ll have a unit waiting on standby. We’re going to try and get ahold of whoever has her, though I doubt Daniel will come himself.”

“What if you can’t catch him?” Dean pressed.

Cas didn’t want to have to tell his friend something he didn’t want to hear, but he didn’t make a habit of lying to Dean. He wasn’t about to start now.

“Then it’s over, for now,” he replied. “We each go back to our corners and regroup.”

“Dad’ll never stop hunting this guy,” Dean said.

“That may be,” Cas nodded. “But he does have a line.”  

“My father’s an obsessed bastard,” Dean groused. “He doesn’t have a damn line.”

Cas looked over at him then. He was calm and sympathetic, and yet, still disagreeing in his silence. Dean knew he was probably wrong, but in the moment, he didn’t care. He was still angry.

He perked up, however, when the prison doors slid open. Out came John escorting Nick and his lawyer, Amelia. Nick looked as smug as ever now that his cuffs were off. He was given the clothes he was arrested in—a blue silk shirt, pants, Italian leather shoes, and a silver Rolex watch.

Screw this, Dean thought. He unlocked the car from his side and climbed out. He didn’t care that he could hear Cas mutter a curse behind him and follow suit.

Nick saw Dean coming and couldn’t help but smirk, even as John grasped his arm and led him to his police car.

“Hey, fireman,” Nick taunted with his waggling brows. “Where’s our girl?”

Dean’s lips edged at a dangerous smile. Cas came up just behind him, ready to restrain him if need be.

“You can finesse your way out of this, but remember our little chat,” Dean said. His eyes burned with a thinly veiled threat. “Not a dime in this world can protect you from me.”

Nick pretended to shiver.

“Ooh, I’m so fucking scared,” he snarked. He resisted John’s manhandling and ripped his arm out of the other man’s grasp to step further into the open, leaving just a few yards between him and Dean.

“You can’t touch me,” Nick taunted. “You won’t dare. Not unless you want—”

Three shots rang out in the open clearing.

All heads ducked, but Dean’s eyes widened. He watched Nick crumple to the ground as scarlet red plumed in the man’s silk shirt. The shock etched on his face drained along with his life, leaving blue eyes staring up at a clear sky.

Forensics at the scene found traces of a sniper on the rooftop of a building directly across from the county jail.

John and Cas already were mounting an entire unit search in locating Alastair Rolston, but he had apparently moved out of his apartment as soon as he was released from prison with his immunity deal. (The police officers escorting him into witness protection had been found dead at the scene of his designated safe house.)

The detectives were later called into the medical examiner’s office on the case of Nick Savage—not to examine the body, but the bullets that had carved into his heart, right lung, and throat.

One of the bullets had a special casing. Inside was a rolled-up note, not unlike a carrier pigeon. It had a simple message:

JOHN — STULL STORAGE. COME ALONE.

Once again, Dean refused to sit idly. He’d pushed back hard enough that John had eventually relented. This time, however, Sam stepped in to make sure his brother was reigned in. Dean’s knee was already bouncing with anticipation and nervousness.

It was nearly midnight on a Tuesday. The brothers sat in the surveillance van with Jody Mills, all wearing protective Kevlar vests as precaution. The van was removed from the immediate site of Stull Storage, which was made up of a main warehouse and several rows of storage units on the other side. 

Cas was leading another police unit on standby, but John was going into the warehouse. He wore his usual leather jacket over his rumpled shirt, pants, and boots, but also a protective vest and hidden wire under his collar.

Sam, Dean, and Jody were able to listen in as John entered alone.

He had a flashlight positioned over his raised gun as he walked into the building. He found some light switches along the wall and was able to turn on half the room’s fluorescent ceiling lights.

He heard a whimper.

Moving towards the sound cautiously, John soon found you tied to a chair. You looked a bit worse for wear; though you were dressed for an interview in black slacks and a blouse, your hair was in disarray, your cheek still sported a fading red mark, and you likely had other bumps and bruises.

Your eyes widened with hope when you saw John. You made sounds of surprise around the gag tied in your mouth, but he shushed you with a finger held to his lips.

He went over to you after lowering his gun, cocking back the safety, and re-holstering. He went to untie the gag first. You breathed deeply when it was gone.

“You okay?” he asked, touching your arm in comfort.

“Yeah,” you nodded, but your widening eyes still darted behind him.

Another safety clicked back. John immediately drew his gun again and turned. He was met with the man of the hour.

Standing mere feet away with his own gun was Daniel Savage. AKA: Azazel.

“Ooh, you’re getting old, John,” he said with a smirk. “Wasn’t expecting to get the drop on you so easily.”

John subtly moved so he was standing in front of you. He hadn't had time to untie you from the chair. Your breathing came out shallow as you tried to spy around John to your captor.

“Daniel,” John greeted. “It’s about time, wouldn’t you say?”

“You cheated though,” said Daniel, despite his cocky smirk. Like father like son. “I know you’ve got a team waiting in the wings.”

“If you wanna get technical, you cheated first,” John pointed out.

Daniel shrugged. Behind him came around ten of his own hired men, armed with their own guns. “Hate the player, hate the game, my friend.”

John’s lips pursed, but he didn’t lower his gun. He had a straight shot at Daniel’s chest.

“Even if you do get off a shot, you’ll be Swiss cheese where you stand,” Daniel said. 

“Small price to pay for ending your miserable fucking life,” John remarked.

Daniel’s brows rose. “Are you gonna make her pay for it too?”

He gestured behind John, where he glanced back at your face. Your red-rimmed eyes were shining with tears. And John knew that once his gun fired, his body would hit the ground. Yours wouldn’t be far behind.

His brows furrowed, and the hands holding his weapon wavered.

“So how you do think this is gonna play out?” John asked.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to drop that damn gun,” said Daniel. He cocked his own weapon. “Then, you’re going to get down on your knees and take this bullet, like putting down a rabid dog. Then maybe, I’ll let her go before the cops rush in.”

John’s hesitation was mere seconds. He clicked the safety back on. He set down his gun, and lowered to his knees in slow movements.

Your eyes widened further as incredulous tears slipped down your cheeks. You shook your head.

“Don’t!” you said shakily. 

John didn’t look back at you this time, but he did answer you.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said.

Daniel’s grim smile made you shiver.

“What a caring father-in-law,” he said, and he slowly stalked forward. “You know, I prided myself on delegating my operations well. Oh, it was a well-oiled machine back in the day. But some things…well, some things are just better handled yourself. Know what I mean?”

He tilted his head down at John.

“For example: I really regret the way I had your wife killed,” he said. “For all the trouble you’ve given me, I wish I’d actually burned the bitch myself.”

John glared up at the man with pure fury and hatred.

Though his eyes widened when the first shot split the air, and buried a bullet in Daniel’s left arm. Daniel shouted in pain as he unconsciously dropped his gun. John dove for it, and everything started to happen at once.

Daniel kicked at John’s chest while holding his wounded arm, tossing the other man back. John rolled onto his feet, and their full out brawl began. Meanwhile, a unit of police officers swarmed into the warehouse and sparked a shootout with Daniel’s men.

And in all of this, Cas came out from behind your line of vision to untie you. He wore a protective vest over his usual white dress shirt, now rolled up to the elbows.

“Cas!” you gasped. He gave you a smile, then used a pocketknife to cut through the zip ties holding your wrists behind you and your ankles to the chair.

“Come on, let’s go.” He helped you up and guided you out the back of the warehouse.

The last coherent sound Sam and Dean heard was a bullet fired and hitting its target. They couldn’t tell if it was John or Daniel that had been hit, or even you.

Above all things, Dean was a man of action.

He just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck this,” he growled. He got to his feet and went for the door of the surveillance van, but while Jody voiced her protest, it was Sam who reached him first.

“Dean, stop! You can’t go out there!” Sam said.

“The hell I can’t,” Dean said. The punch he reared back and threw was precise when it cracked Sam in the cheek. He went down hard. It was all Jody could do to keep him from knocking his head on the metal floor, but Sam was out cold, with his hair flopped over his face.

"Dean!" Jody yelled after him. She stared after the open door of the van with wide, worried eyes.

There were rows upon rows of storage units behind the warehouse. It felt like a maze in itself, one that you and Cas were forced to navigate alone in the crisp January night. Both of you saw your breath on the air as you tried to move quickly, but quietly.

Until a long arm reached out on the other side of a unit, and a hand closed on Cas’s gun, pushing it down and ripping it out of his hands. An elbow cracked into his face, making him grunt and stumble.

Your scream of surprise echoed in the night. You stared up into the familiar face of Alastair, whose mouth formed a sly grin.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he said.

Cas distracted him with a blow that Alastair blocked, but it gave Cas room to break the taller man’s stance and knock his head against the unit wall—once, twice, until the man stumbled and fell. He wasn’t knocked out, but Cas didn’t wait for Alastair to recover. He grabbed you and forced you to run.

“I thought he was in protective custody for the trial,” you said, through huffing breaths.

“Evidently he escaped,” Cas replied.

“God, Cas. You really need to hand out some pink slips,” you said, with a tremor in your voice. The police were supposed to have been watching you as well, before you were kidnapped. Cas conceded your point.

“We really shouldn’t have given him immunity,” he grumbled.

Dean knew he was being some kind of idiot.

Knew it as he carefully approached a side door of the warehouse. His vest wouldn’t protect his whole body if he entered the no man’s land shootout he could hear happening on the other side of the door.

Already he could see policemen escorting some of Azazel’s captured team around the front exit. Dean kept to the shadows, and he cracked the side door open.

There was still plenty going on inside. A few bodies were already strewn across the dusty warehouse floor. Large crates stacked up to the ceiling offered meager protection for both sides of the siege, including Dean as he kept to the wall and slid his way inside and behind a formation of wooden crates. He scanned the room until he found his dad.

John was fighting hand-to-hand with who had to be Daniel Savage. Even though the latter had blood dripping from his arm, John had his share of bruises and scrapes, including a long cut across his cheek from the knife clenched in Daniel’s non-injured right hand.

What the hell do I do? Dean assessed the situation, his eyes darting quickly between the men. He came in here without a weapon (another smart move). He went through most of the training a million years ago, but Dean wasn’t a police officer. He was a firefighter.

However, when he spotted a forgotten Glock on the floor, just a few yards away where the men were still tousling, Dean inched his way closer. He’d have to leave the relative safety of the crates and throw himself out into the open to reach the gun. At this point, Daniel was closer.

And he’d noticed the gun too, at the same time that John glanced up and saw his son. His eyes widened, and just for a moment he lost his grip on Daniel. The other man went for the gun at the same time Dean dove.

John yanked Daniel back by his collar and kneed him in the stomach. But Daniel had the longer reach. He cracked an elbow into John’s face and followed by a swift punch to the gut. John grunted and doubled over at the impact to his already battered ribs and stomach.

Daniel threw him head-first into a pile of nearby crates. He was breathing hard, but his lips twitched in satisfaction at the way John fell into a heap of broken wood. The detective was clearly waning.

Daniel stalked forward. Ignoring his still bleeding shoulder, he grabbed John by the jacket and collar of his shirt and hefted him up to his feet, prepared to deliver another blow. The cocking of a nearby gun made him pause. But in a moment, he twisted John in front him with an arm wrapped around his neck to face his next attacker.

While Daniel had been distracted, Dean had managed to dive and roll across the concrete, scooping up the gun on his way back onto his feet. Now he’d had the time to take aim and wait for his moment, which was right fucking now.

Slowly, Daniel tilted his head to look past John’s shoulder. He was met with Dean’s smirk and a gun pointed directly at his head.

“I think I’ve got something of yours,” Dean remarked. His fingers slid over the trigger.

Daniel tilted his head. A dry smile edged at the corner of his lips. “All right, Dean. Well played. But…”

He tightened his arm around John’s throat and held the knife poised at his neck.

“We’re at what you’d call an impasse, don’t you think?” Daniel asked.

“Dean,” John said. He met his eldest’s gaze as uncertainly crept into Dean’s stance. His hand was still held aloft, but there was an almost imperceptible shake.

“Just shoot him,” said John, with full conviction. “Don’t worry about me.”

Dean’s mouth pressed into a line, his brows furrowing. He wasn’t doing that.

“See, I don’t think he’s got it in ‘im,” Daniel said, speaking lowly in John’s ear. His knife tightened against John’s neck. “You’re out of your fucking depth, Dean.”

Dean flinched as a bullet zoomed past his head from across the room. He was reminded that there was still a fight going on, and the three of them were very much out in the open. John’s face turned more urgent, with thinly veiled worry.

“Dean, either shoot him or get the hell out of here,” he said tersely.

“I’m not leaving,” Dean said, with a small, stubborn shake of his head. But he was nervous. Despite how close he’d come with Nick Savage, Dean had never shot at someone, let alone taken a life. The gun was heavy in his hand.

“Running out of time, son,” Daniel taunted.

“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean gritted out. “Speaking of, did you have Alastair do your dirty work, taking out Nick, or did you pull that trigger yourself?”

Daniel’s smirk faded, his gaze tightening with resignation.

“Sacrifices, Dean,” he said. “We make ‘em to survive. To make sure our legacies survive.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he looked at this man, and he finally understood what his dad had been trying to tell him.

He ain’t a man. He’s a monster.

The gun was heavy in his hand…

“Come on, Dean!” Daniel shouted. “Make a decision—”

Dean still remembered most things he’d learned at the Police Academy. He’d lived, ate, sweat, and breathed those drills and tests for months. And yet, there was only one score he’d truly been proud of. It was the one record of his dad’s that he’d managed to beat.

You could guess which one.

Dean let his fingers squeeze the trigger on some instinct he couldn’t name. Daniel was forced to choke on his words.

Cas pulled you around the corner of a storage unit that blocked the light of the moon. It was just in time for a bullet to rip past where his head used to be.

You leaned heavily against the wall and heaved for breath, but Cas held a finger to his lips while he tried to calm his own breathing.

You held a hand over your mouth to try and stifle the sounds from getting out. Your eyes were wide and panicked, but Cas could only reassure you with a brief hand on your shoulder. He nodded and signaled with his free hand. Wait.

You gave a jerky nod in return. So he reached for his belt and brandished the only weapon he had left—the knife he’d used to cut through your bonds. The air was quiet, except for the distant shouts of police officers; it sounded like Azazel’s men were finally being rounded up.

Cas had called for backup earlier, but he didn’t think they could wait for it. Nor would he know if they were coming. He’d long since turned off the radio on his belt so that it couldn’t tip off his position with you.

He chanced looking around the wall of the storage unit. The coast looked clear, though he knew it wasn’t. Still, the best Cas could hope for was to cover you on the way back to the police barricade. He leaned back and reached for you. He guided you, both with his eyes and a hand on your back.

On the count of three, run, he mouthed. You wordlessly agreed. He saw the fear shining in your eyes.

One…two…

An arm shot out to grab Castiel’s collar the moment he stepped out from his cover, making you scream. The first punch came swift; Alastair was taller, perhaps stronger, but Cas recovered quickly.

He ducked the other man’s arm and delivered an uppercut that had his adversary careening back. With a well-placed jab to the wrist, Alastair’s gun clattered away across the ground.

Cas managed to shoot you a quick look. “Run. Now!”

You paused for a mere moment while Cas continued to grapple with Alastair. Then, in your frozen fear, you finally managed flight. And you took off running, even though Alastair tried to grab at your hair. Cas held him back and continued the fight.

You’d only managed a few yards of distance though, before you couldn’t help but look back. Something in you just couldn’t leave Cas behind.

You took cover behind another storage unit and watched Alastair slowly get the upper hand. He managed to pin Cas against the ribbed metal wall of a unit. He winced as it dug into his spine, but he had bigger problems.

He spat blood after the third blow to his jaw and tried to blink dark spots of his vision. Alastair looked down on him with the lean look of a predator. His smile betrayed the enjoyment he took in his work.

“Contrary to what you might think, I’ve never killed a cop before,” he said. “Just a cop’s wife.”

Cas’s eyes widened a fraction. Alastair’s smile deepened. He raised a bloody fist to finish his work, but he winced and weakened with a shout as a knife embedded deep in his thigh.

It was Cas’s knife that you’d found on the ground.

Alastair’s angry eyes looked down and met your scared ones. You let go of the knife and scrambled back. He backhanded you roughly. You cried out and fell hard on the pavement.

Alastair reached for the knife, but Cas grabbed it first. He twisted as he yanked it out, then jabbed it into the taller man’s neck. It choked his scream as he stumbled back. And yet, even that didn’t manage to kill him.

Cas dove for the fallen gun. It was mere feet away from where he’d forced it out of Alastair’s grip. Cas felt a hand grab his shoulder. He reacted fast—he turned and shot two rounds of hot led into Alastair’s gut.

His gray eyes went wide. Blood gurgled in his mouth.

And slowly, Alastair slid to the ground.

Cas was bloody, his shirt stained and torn, but he was still standing with ragged breath. You had managed to sit up, though your shocked eyes were trained on the body you’d just seen fall into a heap. The horrific spell of it broke when Cas gently touched your shoulder.

You gasped and raised your head.

“It’s okay,” he said, reaching a hand to you. “It’s over.”

Cas escorted you back to the police barricade. There you found Sam, and the mere sight of him relieved you so much you didn’t realize you were crying when you stepped into his embrace. He hugged you tight and asked if you were all right.

You couldn’t give him an honest answer, but at least you were alive.

“I’m okay,” you said tremulously, but you pulled back at grasped his arms. “Where’s Dean?”

Sam looked anxious as his gaze flit between you and Cas.

“That goddamn idiot, he went in there! They won’t let me through—”

“What?” Cas said incredulously. “Into the warehouse?”

Your tears fell anew as a new frantic worry took hold, churning in your stomach and making you feel sick. You turned, and both Cas and Sam had to stop you from heading towards the warehouse.

“Get him out of there!” you cried. “Dean!”

You tried to push past Cas and his attempts to calm you, but you stopped the moment you saw him…

Dean was helping John limp out of the warehouse. Jody was on John’s other side, supporting him as well. John looked beat to hell, and exhausted, but there was no mistaking the calm look on his face. Like he’d finally sleep tonight.

Dean, on the other hand, looked pale, haggard, and worried. However, his head perked up as soon as he heard your voice. His eyes widened. He turned to Jody to make sure she could support John on her own, and she nodded at him.

It let Dean make his way straight for you.

Sam and Cas finally released you, like a horse waiting to bolt out of the stables. Your tears blurred your vision as you went to him.

When Dean swept you up into his arms, you were able to throw yours around his neck and cling to him for all you were worth. You buried your face into his neck and sobbed your relief.

You wouldn’t know that Dean’s eyes were shining and red, his mouth trembling slightly as he sucked in a breath and held you as tight as he dared. His hand came up to cup the back of your head, over your wild hair. His lips pressed to the side of your head as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“You okay?” he asked, when he was able to speak.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, though his question prompted you to pull back and find his face. Your heels came back to the ground, and you reached up to stroke his cheek and search his gaze.

“What about you?” you asked tremulously. “Your head?”

“’M fine,” he said. Though the truth was, he was reeling. His ears still rung from the bullet that hit Daniel between the eyes.

The weight of that decision was almost too fresh to be real, but it was heavy on Dean all the same. He could even get in legal trouble for this. He wasn’t supposed to have entered that building. Hell, he’d picked up a gun and shot a man.

Though he already knew what Sam would say.

Justification. Imminent danger. Self-defense.

Dean just didn’t know if that would fly here, especially with the Fire Department.

Right now, however, you were his lifeline. You grounded him in reality when you held his face in your hands. Just beyond you, he could see the relief on both Sam and Cas’s faces.

Dean gave them a smile, but he focused back on you. He held your hand to his cheek.

“Promise me you’re gonna stay put for a while,” he quipped. “Preferably where I can see you.”

You scoffed at him through the tears glittering in your eyes.

“Dean Winchester, if that isn’t the most hypocritical thing that’s ever come out of your mouth!” you said, punctuating your words with a slap on his chest.

“Hey!” he protested, but you ignored him. You gripped his shirt and felt the Kevlar underneath. It might’ve protected his chest, but he hadn’t had anything to protect his damn head.

“You run into fires, not bullets, you idiot,” you said, now wiping frustrated tears from your cheek.

Dean’s tension began to ease with a smile. He held you more securely, pulling you flush against him.

“You sound like Bobby,” he teased.

“Good!” you snapped. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that. Do you hear m—?”

He didn’t think he’d ever miss you giving him shit, but this time, it just made him smile until the corners of his eyes crinkled. Shortly before he cut you off with a searing kiss.

You made a sound of surprise, even as you gripped at his shirt, then his face to keep him there. You both knew this night was long from being over. An even longer way from recovering.

But for now, this was a good start.

AN: And so, we're drawing near to the end. 🥹 What did you think of the respective ends of Nick and Daniel Savage, and even Alastair? And of course, her and Dean's reunion. 💗

Soon (this weekend), we have the epilogue...

Next Time:

“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.

Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he took your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.

Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little...

Keep Reading: THE EPILOGUE

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @illicithallways

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Cameos & Familiar Faces

Entirely subjective yadda yadda. Organized by favs in each category. No numbered lists anymore, tumblr be buggn'.

End of Aug Start Sept 2023

Ongoing Series - Thai

Laws of Attraction (Sat iQIYI) 8fin - Oh the DRAMA. Why does the insane ex (my true love) remind me of the cartel leader from Romancing the Stone? Even the sides got HEA! It was fucking great!!!!! Charn remains a bonkers spoiled evil murderous brat with a cruel smile beloved by his one true paladin. Also: post it love note trope! Been a long while my old friend. NO SINGING!!!!! I do love that wedding jacket frock coat cape thing Charn wore. 

In conclusion: This is a great gay suspense thriller with several solid couples, fun plot, killer characters, queer rep, and a happy ending. Charn may be my favorite lead character of 2023. However, this show is not entirely BL, more on the fringe, like Manner of Death. Add that to several "singing incidents" and pairs being a little weak in the chemistry arena, and this lands safely in 9/10 territory. It’s tons of fun tho: HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. 

I Feel You Linger in the Air (Sat grey) ep 3 of 12 - This show is getting more and more lakorn each ep. Apparently the straights are having a class divide arranged marriage crisis. Who cares? Our boy is ALWAYS in trouble. Crazy that he has to save the people who betrayed him in a previous life - but I guess he chose revenge! That's unexpected.

Had to switch to grey and couldn’t find a working rip. It was frustrating and I wouldn’t have bothered except I like this show so much. Still, it means no screen caps because the rez is naff.

Dangerous Romance (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - Uh oh. Kang wants to save Sailom and be his hero. The fact that K’s Pa puts no pressure on him whatsoever, makes me wonder if K's Ma committed suicide or something? It’s definitely the opposite parental dynamic we normally see in BL. I have to say, the pacing is great in the show. And the acting is on point. It’s really great. 

Hidden Agenda (Sun YT) ep 8 of 12 - these two just kiss well. I mean not "rip your clothes off Taiwan-style," but sweet young boyfriends-esk. Joke wants to be claimed so bad. It’s great. I enjoyed this ep, unfortunately it looks like we have a manufactured angst drama drop in the next episode. Is this a 10 episode arc? I thought it was 12. It’s odd to have doom happening next episode already.

Only Friends (Sat YT) ep 4 of 10 - Back story time! Ray and Mew are HARD to watch. Incestuous friend group gay is the worst. Omg I got such QAF vibes from this ep. Nick Boston Sand chats = very throw back 90s gay soaps. 

Location game moment: Top's hotel room is also Chan’s apartment in Laws Of Attraction. 

Naughty Babe (Sat YT) ep 1 of 8 - Ooo. Est is back! Hi handsome. Head of security suits you. Please lead out the new Waterboyy remake? You’re perfect for the role. (If it must happen.) Yi’s Pa is GREAT. Please give daddy a nice boy? Could that be our secondary couple for this series? 

Meanwhile, with the leads (sorry I was distracted by daddy) we got us an arranged marriage, run away bride, and an amnesia trope. Put in a secret baby and it's squarely 1980's Harlequin. Will there be Vikings? Sex herbs? Pirates? Dub con?

Be Mine Super Star (Mon Viki) ep 9 of 12 - Again with lovely sex scenes, it’s just the plot stringing them together is frayed. Also don’t fuck in an onsen. Both yech and ouch.

That goes for all y’all.  

Wedding Plan (Wed YT & iQIYI) ep 7fin - Trash watch here! Honestly this was an okay ending, I’m not mad at it. If you can tolerate Mame and liars (kinda the same thing) you’ll be fine with this show.

Summation: An innocent wedding planner falls haplessly and hopelessly in love with a groom who relentlessly pursued him, even though he’s about to marry someone else. A somewhat lackluster mame offering with less of the usual stellar chemistry, but all of the usual lies and manipulation. 7/10

Love in Translation (Sat iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - I skip everything to do with Tammy and it’s fine. There’s only about 20 minutes of fine but that’s more than enough. On the bright side. So far. No singing.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 24 eps - Cassanova Begins Part 2. Aw. It was sad. Another variation on the “my ghost boyfriend” trope (usually sad). 2/10 I don't do sad BL.

Next up is Merry Go Round featuring the pair from Destiny Seeker (we likey) who want to marry each other, but end up fake engaged to the same woman. Beard squared? Looks silly.

Crazy Handsome Rich (Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - There are 2 things I like about this. I bet you can guess what they are.

Lee Long Shi

The whipping boy trope

There wasn’t enough of either in this first ep. ALSO the captions, sound effects, and voice over are truly next level bad. Utterly atrocious.

The 2 leads fucking around in the end credits was the funniest part of the whole show. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Jun & Jun (Korea Thur Viki) ep 7 of 8 - I am confused and frustrated about what the communication delay is between the two Juns. It feels artificial and narratively manufactured. But since this is a short form KBL and I know it will be resolved quickly, I’m not as annoyed as I would be if this were Thai BL. Still it feels audience manipulative. I also feel sorry for Simon. BUT it looks like it’ll be a sweet boyfriends final episode.

Stay By My Side (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 10fin - Omg they’re so cute!!! Taiwan the purveyors of ultimate sappy gay domesticity. I am going to miss having these to nonsencing all over my dash.

This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Unfortunately, the story was erratic and waffled about. While the leads turned in solid performances and the sappy domesticity was off the charts, it never really had the strength of the narrative convictions such a strong concept should have supplied. Highly rewatchable and enjoyable for that sappy domesticity but not a whole lot more. Still I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity. 8/10 

Kisseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Tues Viki & iQIYI) eps 3 of 13(?) - I love the punching thing - there is a lot of violent flirting in this show. I’m not mad about it. Ugh, poor thing has real abandonment issues. And now trust issues. I see why we’re getting 12-14 eps. This gonna be MESSY.

Meanwhile, does EVERYONE have a guest cameo? Not that I’m complaining. Hi BLIHID boys! Now I need to rewatch that show. 

Love Class Season 2 (Korea Fri Viki) eps 7-8 of 10 - Oh my God the next morning w/ couple 2 was so darn cute. They are all such terrible flirts with each other. Honestly, this show makes me laugh more than any other BL currently airing. I’m not sure it is meant to be as funny as I find it. While couple 3 (the mature characters) is by far my favorite, I actually think they don’t work with the other two pairs, they feel superfluous to the show. I like the show better because they’re in it, but it feels like two different BL‘s stuck together. KBL certainly can’t handle more than two couple threads at the same time. 

Why R U? (Korea Wed iQIYI) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ugh. I am such a sucker for the FighterTutor dynamic. Why so good? Uh oh. Real kiss! KBL you're spoiling us. But, isn’t sad-seme-hyung dating some chick? Argh. Poor Sunwoo. This show is even worse at repping Fighter's character sympathetically. Who knew that was possible?

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 3 of 8 - The date episode! Even Japan is doing it now. And these two who have been living/fucking together for ages still dance around each other like junior high kids. I gotta say, I watch this one twice because Vicki has different subs from Gaga. I feel like it’s easier to understand if I watch two different translations of the same script. But it’s still quite a taciturn piece. 

Minato's Laundromat Season 2 AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2 (Japan Thu Gaga) ep 8 of 12 - Sides are great. It was mostly a cute ep with tiny bits of Progress and a proper Confession. I miss Shin’s siblings. And then… the much loathed amnesia trope. Really?

Everyone say it with me: Must you, Japan? 

Stay Still (Hong Kong Tues YouTube) ep 5fin - It ended happier than I was expecting. Optimistic for one couple, and most likely optimistic for the other.

Summation: What to say about this offering from Hong Kong? It’s different, a mix of early CBL, Taiwanese shorts, and Pinoy visuals. It felt like the story was 2 independent shorts that had been lengthen and then stuck together, and I wish they'd been approached as separate and tighter entities. Nevertheless, this was a complex little piece,  interesting in a sweaty grungy way, with a certain aura of queer authenticity that made it simultaneously tense, unpredictable, and refreshing. I’m not sure I would necessarily call it BL, but any county’s early foray into the genre usually starts out this way, so perhaps nascent BL? Worth watching, especially if you enjoy stuff from the Philippines and Taiwan. 7/10

In case you missed it

Dinosaur Love ended its run but the final 2 eps are behind a paywall. Word on the street is they aren't good anyway (shocker) so I'm marking it as DNF and moving on with my life. If I can find em grey I'll watch 'em merely so I can give it a rating, but I can't imagine it will get more than 5/10. Seriously, do not bother.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Coming September

9/15 You Are Mine (Taiwan Gaga) Secretary has to deal with grumpy boss.

9/15 Bump Up Business AKA Bump Up Project (Korea movie) suspected cinema release? I don't know much about what's going on. Last status update. Love story between a trainee who is about to debut and a celebrity from the same agency. Kpop boy group OnlyOneOf has signed up to star in this idol-based BL (based on a webtoon). They’ve been auditioning for this since Libido IMHO. You can watch me chronicle their BL MV series in this post. It’s from Idol Romance who will do sad but can do good kisses (Wish You, Nobleman Ryu, Once Again, Kissable Lips, Poongduck 304, Tasty Florida, Tinted With You).

9/26 I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan ????) - Adapted from the manga, childhood best friends: The cool, smart one who’s good at everything, and his average, dorky friend who struggles. Always by the other’s side, but not together in the way they truly want to be. No matter how hard they try, their hearts cannot reach each other.

9/27 Absolute Zero (Thai iQIYI) - from 2021, Studio Wabi Sabi and New Siwaj finally bring us this “time loop to prevent tragedy” romance. We don’t always get HEAs from them, so I'm on my guard.

9/? Venus in the Sky (Thai iQIYI) 10 eps

9/? Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam YouTube?)

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Hidden Agenda hitting us up with a hug + lap + kiss. Very nice.

I think these two might be GMMTV's best cuddlers.

Boys, I think your JoongDunk is showing.

(Last week) 

[coleskingdom]

Early Morning Phone Call

Matt Jackson x F Reader

Angsty Smut

Minors DNI and NSFW

For @madhatterbri

@midwestmade29

“It’s just always about him and what he needs. I know, he’s usually so good at leaving the character at work but this Matthew Jackson isn’t the one I signed up for” you said your phone on speaker to your best friend while you were getting ready for the day. “ Of course he’s not here, he’s off playing EVP with Nick and Kazu. Probably terrorizing a Starbucks employee and looking at Ferraris “

“Actually, I’m looking at you.” Matt’s voice ice cold.

“I’ve gotta go” hanging up the phone. “Well I guess I got another thing wrong.”

“What the hell is your problem? You have everything you want, you don’t have to do anything, except be mine” his voice holding an edge of contempt

“Are you fucking kidding me? Being yours is a full time job. Anticipating every one of your whims, you’re really living the gimmick. I don’t have everything I want because I want you, and this isn’t you. You suspended Hanger for shit that you and Nick do. He wouldn’t even be in this if you and Nick would’ve just gone and chased him taken a dq for the trios and helped him with swerve. No you had to be a bitch about it. Then Kenny that was cold replacing him with Kazu.” My temper rising

“ Why am I not surprised you defending hanger? I swear if he wasn’t so fucked in the head you’d have left me for him a long time ago or is it that you protect him by being with me because you know if you left me for him his options would be TNA, or NXT. Though bringing up Kenny who you can’t stand was a nice play.” he stepped closer to me.

My breath hitched, trying to read his face ,a mix of lust and disdain all in one skewed expression . “ So pretty when you’re mad , fresh from the shower, I bet there’s nothing on under that little robe of yours” he said, “ trying to act like I disgust you. That sweet little Matty is the one that you want. You’ve been wanting this argument for weeks, you’ve wanted to hate fuck me for at least that long.” He pulled me into a kiss that I resisted for half a moment before giving in. I bit his bottom lip, then he sucked and bit mine, my hands going to the hem of his shirt pulling before he helped me get it off of him. His mouth trailed to my neck, before he sucked it in making sure to leave a mark,then he licked the spot soothing away the brief bit of pain.

His hands went to the belt of the robe as I went for his waistband of his pants. He sighed went he realized he was right about what I had been doing before he had walked in. His lips began their assault on my breasts, he was using all of the tricks he knew I loved. I refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing me moan even as I felt my body betray me. “ I hate you” I whimpered, “ Of course you do” he chuckled “ especially when I do this “ he pushed me back on to the bed, my legs falling open for him, he went right to my core and licked me up and down. “Princess your body is telling on you, you’re so wet for me, just give in to the way that I make you feel.” His mouth moving on my most sensitive spot, he went to work sucking, licking, with fingers moving in succession. I was so close, I could feel my orgasm building, my legs began to shake I felt it wash over me “ Matt” I cried out as he worked me through it. As the pleasure subsided, “See, I’m not a bad guy” as he removed his boxers and climbed up over me.

“ Princess look at me, I’m still the man you fell in love with. You just don’t like the things I’m doing, I don’t like the things I’m doing, but they have to be done. Don’t be mad at me” he said as he kissed me. He entered me in one fluid motion, even in the roughness of the pace, his kisses were soft, the true root of the problem. I scratched my nails down his back earning a groan from him, and bit his shoulder when I shattered around him. He soon followed his grunts and whimper the tell tale sign as I felt his release.

He rolled to his side his face had lost the anger and the tension , he was beautiful as the sun filtered in the window. “ Matt, I can’t do this anymore” as I got out of the bed and locked myself in the bathroom.

[silentwhispofhope]

Could I get soooooome headcanons for Vash having a crush on a reader who is kinda sassy and tough and smart mouthed, but also super sweet and caring and goofy?

Like they are there to comfort him and care about him and others all the time but is ready to throw hands at the drop of a dime, or sasses or curses Nick out if he does something mean?

If that’s not something you wanna do that’s totally fine!

Vash just gives me “I love a person who could kick my ass….but wouldn’t” vibes 😂

A/N: Oooooo! I honestly this is such a great idea, and this type of person would be a great match with Vash! I’m totally not procrastinating from studying for my first biochem exam pshhhhh

Vash Headcanons with a Tough but Sweet S/O

Your quips back at Wolfwood’s criticisms of him, pointing out the undertaker’s own contradictions, always make him feel better himself. It makes Vash feel like his own methodology isn’t completely wrong, even though he does know it can be flawed.

He’s also deeply grateful for you defending him. This poor boy has been chased away and betrayed by so many people, your trust in him makes him fall harder for you.

Vash knows you’d be willing to throw hands for him, but he tries to keep you from doing this as much as possible, often having to put a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. As much as he loves you, humans are much more fragile than Plants, and he would rather see you not get hurt.

He also appreciates that you know when to be brutally honest and when to give subtle lies. However, sometimes your mouth does get the two of you in trouble when you don’t hold back. Vash has to do damage control at that point to prevent the two of you from being kicked out of the bar or town.

Your tough love is also something that he needs. Your “nagging” about his latest injury makes him realize he does need to keep himself out of harm’s way as much as possible in order to help others. You also always give him a teasing little flick to his forehead after patching him up, which always makes him laugh in response, lifting the more serious atmosphere of the nagging session.

He loves when your goofy nature slips out. One of Vash’s favorite memories is when your dragged him away from the campfire to dance with him under the stars. The two of you have no idea what you’re doing, but the night ends with him picking you up and twirling you in the air and in a fit of giggles.

You once managed to find an old, battered pun/riddle book that managed to survive the whole journey from Earth. When it’s just the two you traveling to another town, you’ll try and read them to Vash. He knows the answer a majority of the time, but he doesn’t have the heart to ruin the little guessing game going on when your eyes shine that brightly.

[bullet-prooflove]

Donna, this screams Nick Torres vibes isn't it? 😎

"After all that we've been through, There's nothing that I wouldn't do"

PS you're doing such an amazing job with writing so many amazing fics 😍😍😍

Tagging: @Divergent146 @whateversomethingbruh @district447 @stelacole @kmc1989

When Nick’s arrested for the murder of Maurice Riva, you don’t believe it despite his confession. The two of you have known each other for over a decade and despite what Riva did, Nick doesn’t have it in him to kill in cold blood, no matter that he might say.

“Don’t let her near this case.” Nick tells Parker when he visits him in prison. “I don’t want her tainted by it.”

“Is that way you won’t let her visit?” Parker asks and Nick says nothing. Instead he clenches his jaw and looks away because he doesn’t want you anywhere near this God forsaken place.

It’s you that talks to Nick’s sister, that brings her in discuss the voicemail she left on his phone. When she tells the story of what Riva put them through Parker can tell it isn’t the first time you’ve heard it.

“It wasn’t my story to tell.” You say afterwards when you and Parker are sitting alone at the conference room table. “I can’t betray Nick’s trust like that.”

It’s a couple of days later that Nick is released. The first thing he does when he gets home is take a shower because he wants to wash the scum of prison off his skin. He spends a long time under the searing hot water contemplating everything that’s happened over the past few days, the way things could have gone if he didn’t have his team hadn’t come through.  

When he steps out of the shower with a white towel wrapped around his waist, you’re tidying away some paperwork from the coffee table. His fingertips snag on the A3 piece of paper slotted between two files, pulling it out. You reach to snatch it back but he already has it unfolded and spread out on the coffee table before you can stop him.

“Are these the schematics of the prison?” he asked in an amused tone before he tilts his head up towards you. “Baby, were you planning to break me out?”

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” You tell him, your fingertips ghosting along the line of cheek. “And apparently that includes orchestrating an escape.”

The edges of Nick’s mouth tip up into a smile before his forehead comes to rest upon yours.

“For the record.” He tells you, his voice a little rough. “I would have broken you out too."

Love Nick? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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[topguncortez]

Don't Fall In Love- T. Kazansky

pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x female!Bradshaw word count: 800 warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of failed relationships. synopsis: He wasn't supposed to fall in love with the one person he can't have.

Iceman watched as you moved throughout the bedroom, trying to gather your clothes that had been thrown around. His white bed sheet thrown lazily over his modesty, as he watched you pull on your underwear. He hated mornings because of this reason. He hated when you woke up and came to the reality that you didn’t really want to be with him. For a while, you had managed to scramble out of his house before he even woke up, leaving him to wake to a cold bed, and a small hand written note.

But now, he was attuned to the shifts in your body as you woke up. If he was lucky, you would pause for a moment and let him cuddle you or to lazily fuck you in the morning sun. Iceman held on to those moments with a vice grip, not wanting to forget the way your voice sounded in the morning, or how you glowed from the sun, or how your hair seemed to be even more perfect.

“You don’t have to leave so quickly, ya know,” Iceman mumbled, leaning on his hand, watching you flip your jeans back the right side out, “You could stay, have breakfast.”

“Ice, we’ve talked about this,” You said, sliding your jeans over your legs.

“You mean, you talked about it,” Iceman said, pushing himself from the bed. He grabbed his boxers that were thrown on the ground and slipped them on his legs, “Y/N, really, look me in the eye and tell me you just want sex,”

You paused and looked at him, “That’s all this has ever been and will ever be. Sex. Tom, I am your wingman’s sister. How do you think he would feel if he found out,”

Iceman looked at his feet. You knew that was a sensitive card for him, using your blood relation with Goose  against him. Nick had warned the guys once upon a time to stay away from his younger sister. You and Goose were opposites of each other. Nick had found his high school sweetheart and was married at a young age, and now has a child. You, you played with fire and destroyed dolls. You weren’t one to be tied down, nor did you ever want to. That’s what intrigued Iceman. You were forbidden fruit, and you loved to flash it in his face.

“I don’t give a fuck anymore,” Iceman said.

“What?”

“I don’t give a fuck what Maverick or hell, even Goose thinks. We’re not fifteen years old,” Iceman exclaimed, “We’re adults. I can do what I want with who I want, and so can you. You’ve made that very fucking clear every time we go out. You don’t think it fucking hurts me to see you dancing with some other guy, or kissing them, or letting them rub up on you. You don’t think I have to restrain myself from grabbing you and calling you mine in front of everyone. I don’t care anymore, Y/N! I want you and only you!”

You looked at Iceman’s big blue eyes, which seemed to only grow with his little tantrum. You could see it in his eyes, the inevitable. You had been trying to push it away for months, hoping that putting distance between you guys would make it go away. But it was true what they said “distance makes the heart grow fonder”. You closed your eyes, pushing back tears and shook your head. This could not happen. You quickly pulled your shirt over your head, and grabbed the rest of your things before darting out of Iceman’s room.

“Wait, Y/N. Wait!” Iceman called out for you, as you ran down his steps.

You and Iceman were total opposites. He saw the world in a different light than you. You had been burned, betrayed, and left heartbroken by someone you loved. You made a vow that day as you cried on your brother’s shoulder, to never ever let a man love you, and to never love another one back. But here you were, breaking your own rules.

“Y/N, Jesus fuck, stop!” Iceman yelled, as you went to open the door, only for his heavy hand to push it closed.

“You said you wouldn’t fall in love with me!” You yelled at him, “You said, and you fucking promised!”

“Well, I fucking lied!” Iceman yelled back. You hit his chest repeatedly, letting out a frustrated groan. He fought to grab your hands, as you fought to be free from him.

“Let me go!”

“No! Not until you have an adult conversation! Stop fucking hitting me!” Iceman said, trying to grab you. Once Iceman got you under control, he held you at an arm's length away and looked at you, as tears ran down your face.

“I fucking hate you!”

“Why? Because I love you!?”

“Yes! And because, I think I love you too.” You cried. Iceman dropped his hands away from your body. In that split second, you took the opportunity to turn and open the door as fast as you could. Iceman could hardly react as you slipped out away from him, and ran to your car.

“Y/N! Wait!” Iceman yelled, chasing after you in only his boxers. He fell defeated as he watched you drive away, leaving him panting, and confused.

--- --- ---

A/N: first iceman fic letttssss gooooo. this was once a GVF fanfic so I apologize if it doesn't make sense. Anywhoooo:)

taglist: @thesithdiaries @sugarmelonwater @seventieswhore @blue-aconite @sweetheartlizzie07 @hrandomthoughts @dempy @lareinedumal @wildxwidow @callmebymym @dannyavi @xoxabs88xox @spider-d00d @lunamoonbby @prongs-girlfriend @chaoticassidy @littlebadrariell @zzsloth @the-hottest-lieutenants @callalily2000 @gspenc @aerangi @milesrooster @teti-menchon0604 @sleep-whose-that @n3ssm0nique @18crazycutebutalsopsyco @nilspettersson @shizzybarnaclee @multifandom-fangirl4 @persondoingstuff @bxwitched @ellabellabus07 @bellamy1998 @malums-trash-can @lttlemer @blindedbyyourgrace17 @localhockeygirl @flowerpetvls

taglist form

[razorblade180]

OC most likely

Just a random vote on who is most likely to do or become something

Carmine:This is going to get ugly.

Most likely to curse at a child

Everyone: Mona. Next.

Mona:Hold on! Can we not sound so certain about- fuck it, next one…

Most likely to betray someone

Nick:Are we talking trust? Because…

Valerie: I apologized!

Sienna: It’s me. Comes with the job.

Peach:Sounds like a shit job…

Most likely to succeed in world domination

……..

Aero:Carmine.

Carmine:How dare you!

Aero:It doesn’t say you are likely to do it, but success rate.

Eliza:Nah I think it’s Nick and Summer. They think a little too much and have banks for their banks.

Nick:It’s our world now.

Summer:You’re just living in it.

Most likely to survive anything

Lucas:I see the future so….

Veronica:Counterpoint, *walks through him*

Kovu:That’s a great argument. Carmine is built different though.

Mona:That bitch gets poisoned more often than I get hungover. It’s impressive but I’m sure her liver hates it.

Carmine:Fuck you, but you’re not wrong. I’m gonna agree with Veronica.

Most likely to turn evil

Summer:……Technically-

Everyone:No.

Summer:Fine, pick me! All I’m saying is Mona is right there.

Carmine:Oh she’s runner up.

Mona:Biiiiiiiiiiitch.

Most likely to help in any situation

Yujin: Serenity!

Serenity:Try again.

Tenzen:Really?

Serenity: I’m a nice person but I’m not a hero. Just an actress who likes good vibes.

Peach:Tenzen.

Jacquelyn:I was gonna say you. Something about you feels wise beyond your years.

Peach:Trauma.

Jael:What flavor?

Peach:The survivors guilt kind.

Everyone:Yeah it’s you. *claps*

Peach:…Y’all are lucky I’m well adjusted.

Most likely to start a fire

Mona: I hate this game.

Nick:Eliza. Her magic training is wild.

Sparrow:Her lightning hit my boat, twice.

Eliza:If I accept can we move on?

Most likely to do whatever it takes no matter

Sienna:This is a three way tie in my eyes. My little sister goes the distance. Nick and Carmine share a similar energy in my eyes.

Lucas:I was going to say Summer.

Summer:I’m flattered, but I’ve seen my brother tear muscle going for victory.

Nick:You make it sound like I knew it would happen.

Valerie:Everyone told you not to go for the shot because you were overextending.

Nick:And who decided that was the case? I know my body.

Aero:You guys are missing the point. Carmine, would you end my life if I truly became evil or a danger to your family.

Carmine:I wouldn’t have to. I can beat you in a fight. If I had to kill you then I’m a failure as a friend, let alone a huntress.

Aero:It’s a hypothetical. It’s my life or your brother’s.

Carmine:….I’d mourn you. I hope you know that.

Everyone:Wow….

Most likely to get their heartbroken

Everyone: *looks at Veronica and Nick*

Veronica:I’m not discussing this.

Nick:Me neither. Ask Valerie.

Valerie:I…deserve that.

Most likely to die for their beliefs

Yujin:Well this got heavy…

Jacquelyn:We all understand it’s me, right? Have you all met my daughters; specifically the one with red hair and goat horns? Remind you of anyone!?

Levi:Unfortunately.

Jael: Your just mad your mother can’t fight her own battles.

Carmine:That’s what I’ve been saying!

Kovu:What if we all stopped disrespecting parents regardless of universes!?

Most likely to blend into the crowd

Peach:Oooo that’s a tough one.

Sienna:I’m literally a spy.

Jacquelyn:I’m a maiden!

Canary:I haven’t spoken up until now.

……

Everyone:Canary.

[massiveladycat]

did anyone get the creeps from bloodmarked

okay i just wanted to bring up some things. i'm an avid legendborn enjoyer, i love it, legendborn had me by the THROAT all i could think about was legendborn. i was so hyped for bloodmarked. and i read it and it felt . . . disappointing? here's my opinion. you don't have to read allat i'm just letting it out somewhere Nicholas is NOT boring, and has never been! He was kind and sweet from the very start. He cared about Bree, he cared about others. However, he did prove to be violent when Selwyn made an attempt on Bree’s life in Legendborn. it was proven in Bloodmarked that when Nick senses Sel’s bloodlust, it will become his in a way. He wanted to kill Bree at that moment, and he didn’t. Because 1. He was defending her from a would-be-murderer. And, 2. He was feeling Sel’s bloodlust, and it’s been proven that he has a LOT OF IT. You can’t tell me that, if you had to pick between beating the shit out of a “best friend” who tried to kill your love interest for no good reason other than a wild guess, you’d probably kick said friend to the curb, and I’d stomp on them for good measure.   I will mention that, in one chapter, it was shown that Selwyn had been mesmerizing Bree all this time so he wouldn’t look like death warmed over. Not to mention, Valechaz said to Bree.. “It looks like he already has hurt you…” and implied that Selwyn had been feasting on Bree’s misery because he was weak and desperate. Dude! Bree had every right to feel angry! And all that quote on quote “romantic” tension between Selwyn and Bree vanished the moment he even thought of mesmerizing her. Because he knew she didn’t like to be mesmerized: Bree even stated that her memories are hers and hers alone. He also knew that Bree had trauma because she’d been mesmerized to forget something that I think is related to her mom, but I forgot about it. I genuinely don’t remember much otherwise my sadness when Nick wasn’t in the book for 97% of the time. Also, I don’t understand the romance in this book..? Selwyn was all about killing Bree in the first book. He got redeemed about 90, 80 pages away from the end. And now, suddenly, that gives him enough time to fall in love with Bree? So in love that he’d betray his relationship with Nicholas? Yah, no, I call bullshit. Also, I didn't like how the major plot seemed to be the romantic tension between Selwyn and Bree. It kind of seemed like it pushed things aside for it? Or made things happen for it? I don't know. Reminder that this is all just my opinion and my thoughts, I love this series, I loved Legendborn Selwyn (I don't know how to feel about this one though) and Nick and Bree. I'm not attacking any characters, just wording a few thoughts.

[firstkanaphans]

#H…hear me out…Nick and Boston huddling for warmth?

The way I cackled when I got this prompt, but you were absolutely right. It does suit them. I hope you enjoy 💛 Word Count: 1549

[H]uddling for warmth::

Where was the goddamn ice? If Boston had been in charge of this godforsaken party, there would have at least been enough ice. He peeked around the bar, hoping there might be a stash hidden away there, but there was nothing. His patience with this night was wearing very thin.

“Hey, Ton!” At the sound of the familiar voice, Boston closed his eyes and took a deep breath to settle his nerves. When he opened them, there was Nick. He was dressed as Detective Conan and the costume suited him. In glasses, Nick looked young and naive and eager. If they had still been fucking, Boston would have enjoyed stripping the costume off of him at the end of the night, painting his body with kisses, making him squirm anyway he possibly could—all while still wearing those goddamn glasses. But they weren’t fucking because Nick had betrayed his trust, so instead he looked away before his desire could show on his face. “Ton, hey! Did you hear me? How are you? Enjoying the party?”

Boston clenched his teeth. Seriously? He was just going to pretend like nothing had happened? Like he hadn’t completely violated Boston’s privacy—and then done it again?

And why was there no fucking ice? Screw it. He would just go get it himself.

He pushed past Nick, heading towards the kitchen, hoping Nick might take the hint and leave him alone, but instead Nick followed him.

“Oh, where are we going? I started a new internship, you know. With a senior from school and—”

There was a piece of paper on the kitchen door denoting that the room was off-limits—probably because Ray’s father had just spent an obscene amount of money stocking it with the professional equipment needed to feed a whole hostel—but Boston ignored the warning and stepped inside. Immediately, he was enveloped in a blissful quiet. Well, except for Nick. Who was still talking.

The industrial-sized freezer was at the very back of the room. Boston yanked the door open and stepped inside as an almost unbearable cold washed over him. He’d helped Mew stock this same freezer a few weeks back and although they had been wearing literal parkas at the time, he had been miserable. He hated being cold. But he would only be in here for a second. The bags of ice were right inside the door.

He bent down to grab one as Nick followed him into the freezer. He realized what was about to happen a split second before it did.

“Wait, no! Don’t shut the—” The freezer door slammed shut. Boston heaved a heavy sigh. “Door.”

“Oh, sorry,” Nick said, turning. “I’ll just…” But when he yanked on the door handle, it wouldn’t budge. His eyes widened in alarm.

“It jams,” Boston snapped and even though he knew it wasn’t Nick’s fault, he was still angry.

“Okay,” Nick said. “Well let’s just call someone then. Do you have your phone?”

Boston looked down at his skin-tight pants. “Does it look like I could fit a phone in here?”

Nick followed his gaze and stared at the pants for just a second too long. Boston had to let out a growl to draw his attention back to the matter at hand. “We’ll just use mine then,” Nick said, reaching for his pocket. But then, with his hand halfway there, he froze.

“What?” Boston asked.

Nick winced. “I left it in the car.”

For the first time, Boston actually began to worry. The chill from the freezer was so strong that the tip of his nose was starting to go numb. “So we’re just stuck in here?”

Simultaneously, they both turned towards the door and began banging on it—yelling and screaming, hoping someone might hear them—but no one came. The music was too loud. They were too far away from the crowd. Eventually, Boston gave up and sat down on the icy cold floor. After a few seconds, Nick did the same, sitting down across from him.

“Are we going to die in here?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Boston rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to die.” Someone would find them. Surely someone would find them. 

Every minute that passed felt like an hour. Their breath fogged up in front of their faces and they were both shivering, but Boston at least, had the luxury of being fully clothed. Nick was wearing shorts. And although Boston didn’t want to care, he did.

“Come here,” he said, holding his arm out for Nick to join him. Nick looked at him in shock, clearly surprised by the kindness, but he didn’t give Boston a chance to change his mind. He scooted over to him, pressed his body into Boston’s side, and tucked his face into his neck.

After the initial shock of cold skin subsided, it actually felt nice to have him so close. Boston ran his hands up and down Nick’s arms, trying to warm him—trying to warm them both. Trying not to think about how much it hurt to hold him in his arms as if nothing had changed.

“Thank you,” Nick said into his throat and then he sat and looked Boston in the eye. Boston quickly looked away. Nick was too earnest. It was hard to stay mad at him when he looked at him like that. “Listen, Ton. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. The wiretap was a bad idea—but in my defense, I didn’t think I would actually find anything. I thought I could just use it to reassure myself that nothing was going on between you and Top and then everything would be fine.”

Boston tensed and although he wanted to push Nick away, he also didn’t. 

“No one else was ever supposed to hear it,” Nick continued, his teeth chattering around his words. “I was going to destroy it—I swear I was—but I got upset and I told Sand and then everything just spiraled out of control. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You have to believe me.”

“If you didn’t mean to hurt me, then why did you tell Mew about Gap?” It was the thing that had been bothering Boston the most. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that video Mew had shown him and it made him feel sick. When he found out that video existed—that his own pleasure was being used against him—he had felt so violated. And then to find out that Nick had done the exact same thing…

“I thought that if Mew could steal the video from Gap, I’d be able to steal it from him,” Nick said. “Gap knows that me and you were a thing, but I thought Mew might be able to get closer to him. And if I could get the video from Mew, then it would be gone. Forever.”

Boston turned to him in shock. He was starting to think he didn’t know Nick at all. But he was also starting to think that maybe he liked this Nick better. Maybe he hadn’t given him enough credit.

“What are you thinking?” Nick asked.

“I’m mad,” Boston said and the emotion combined with the cold sent a full body shiver through him. “And I’m really fucking cold.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Nick said again.

“I just…I trusted you!” Boston cried, allowing the anger to warm him. “I was starting to want more with you. God, I was so stupid. This is why I don’t date!”

“You weren’t stupid,” Nick said and then he reached for Boston’s face. His fingertips felt like icicles and yet the touch wasn’t unwelcome. “Hey, look at me. You weren’t stupid. I was stupid. Me.”

Boston wasn’t sure if it was the sincerity in his eyes or the costume glasses or the threat of imminent death, but suddenly he wanted to kiss him. So he did. It had been too long. Nick tangled his fingers in Boston’s hair and kissed him back and Boston was pretty sure he would have kept kissing him until they literally died if Boston hadn’t stopped them.

“I need some time,” he said.

Nick nodded. “Yes, of course. Take whatever time you need. I—”

He was interrupted by the freezer door being wrenched open. Sand was standing on the other side looking annoyed. Boston was so shocked by the interruption that for a second, he didn’t move. 

“I’m here to rescue you,” Sand said in a bored drawl. 

Boston sprang up and rushed out of the freezer. Immediately, warmth washed over him. He wasn’t going to die. How exciting. 

“I need liquor,” he said, wandering over to the pantry. He found some, took a swig, and then turned back to find Nick staring at him, his arms wrapped around himself tightly as if to conserve body heat.

“I’ll talk to you later?” he asked hopefully. Boston didn’t have the heart to tell him no.

“I fucking guess.”

Nick smiled and then turned to leave with Sand and it was only as he was walking away that Boston caught sight of a cell phone in his back pocket. It didn’t make him mad. He smirked and took another swig of the whiskey, letting it warm him from the inside out.

For the Fluff Prompt ABCs

[not-a-space-alien]

Magnanimous Moonrise Chapter 22M

IM BACK BABY!!!!!!

Story masterpost

Complementary chapter

In this chapter: Who's at the door???

Warnings for this chapter: None

***

There was a knock at the door.

That was bad.  In the time Valen had been here, Lex and Ari hadn’t had any visitors besides Jerome and Bailey.

Valen had been lying secure in his wooden box sleeping, but the knock woke him up.  His stomach started to twist with anxiety.  Who could it be?  Not Nick, right?

Lex walked forward and opened the door.

“Ah, Alexis.”  That was all Valen heard.  Because it was his voice.

Why was Nick here?

Why is Nick here?

I thought he didn’t know where we live!

I thought you were going to take care of me!

I thought I didn’t have to worry!

Valen was immediately so wild with terror, heart pounding, ratcheting up to maximum panic, that he couldn’t even focus enough to hear anything that Nick was saying.

They’d betrayed him.  All the comforting words had been just for show.  He’d been trying so hard to convince himself to believe them, and the prickling anxiety in the back of his mind that he couldn’t ignore had been right.  They were just going to hand him right back over.

His racing mind slowed down a bit as he noted Lex and Ari both sounded unhappy in this conversation with Nick, and that time was dragging on without the coffin opening, without them telling him Valen was here.

Calm down.  Calm down.  They weren’t opening the door.  They weren’t giving him away.  They didn’t plan this.  Of course they hadn’t.  Nick must have come over unannounced somehow.  He wasn’t supposed to know where they lived, but he must have found out somehow and invited himself over.

Which meant one thing.  There was one thought now blotting everything else out.  His survival now depended entirely on his ability to be quiet.

The words in the conversation above him still flowed past him without comprehension, far too tense and scared to follow along. 

Slowly, so slowly, he lifted his hands to his face and clamped them over his mouth and nose.  Humans’ hearing wasn’t good enough to hear that, right?  Nor his panicked breathing?  Nor his hammering heart?  Nor his sweating, or tears slipping down his face?

There came the sound of things tapping on top of the coffin.  His entire body stayed rigid, about to snap like a taut spring.

He ground his teeth.  Humans’ hearing wasn’t good enough to hear that, right?  It hurt.  His teeth clicked together.

He had one of his chew toys in the coffin with him.  Nick wouldn’t be able to hear that, right?  Surely his hearing wasn’t good enough to hear fangs sinking gently into fabric, muffling the sound of his teeth?

He very, very slowly reached down and took the dog toy, bringing it up and putting it in his mouth.

He sank his fangs into it.  In the microsecond after his brain had sent the signal to his nerves to shut his jaw, but before his jaw had responded and closed, he realized with electric panic that he’d grabbed one of the dog toys that had a noisemaker in it.

The toy squeaked.  It was like a gunshot.  Valen’s heart stopped.  He remained completely rigid, sweat pouring off his forehead.

“Do you have a dog?” said Nick’s voice.

Valen’s fingers twitched.  He expected the coffin door to be ripped open at any moment.  The seconds stretched on and it didn’t come.  The voices continued their conversation.  He still couldn’t make himself focus enough to actually listen to what they were talking about, eyes rolling around in terror.

Finally, finally, finally footsteps moved towards the front door, and he could hear Ari ushering Nick out.  Valen waited in silence, wracked with full-body tremors.

“Valen, he’s gone, please open the door.”  It was Lex’s voice.

Valen’s hands shook almost too badly to undo the lock.  The coffin flew open, and Lex pulled him up and into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he wept.  “I’m sorry, I forgot that was one of the toys that had a squeaker in it.  I’m sorry.”  He felt so stupid.  The anxiety had just been eating a pit in his stomach, and he’d needed something.

“You’re okay,” Lex said.

“It’s all right,” she’d said, and then locked him in the coffin and tossed him down the stairs into hell.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”  It was Ari, and she was mad.  At first Valen was terrified that she was talking about him, until it registered that him meant Nick.  That was good, that was one thing he had going for him.  Lex and Ari were still on his side.  He clung to it like a drowning man on a life preserver.  

“What do we do?” Lex said.  “I feel like he definitely figured it out.  He definitely figured it out, right?”

He definitely did, he must have.  If he’d figured out where they lived, he must have figured out Valen was here, right?  He was out there, plotting, scheming, making his weapons, imagining all the horrible things he was going to do to Valen once he got his hands on him again.

“And he has another vampire.  We have to do something, right?”

Right.  Valen wasn’t alone in this Hell anymore.  Nick had another victim.  They had to get them out.

Which was terrifying, because Valen might have to do something to help them.  If it came down to it, he couldn’t not help them, but when it came down to it, he might not be able to make himself help them either, if it meant confronting Nick.  His body would lock up, like it had just now.

Ari ground her teeth.  "We have to get Valen out of here.  Across the border."

Yes.  Yes, please.  Please.  I need to get out of here.  Where he can’t reach me.  He was in a fit enough state to be on his own now, right?  Physically, at least.  Yes, probably.  Mentally?  Maybe.  

“Can you run?” Ari asked.  “Are you going to be okay on your own?”

Valen tried to control his breathing.  He could, right?  “Yes.  I-I think so.”  Maybe he would have to be, because the alternative was staying here when Nick knew where they lived, and oh God he knows where I am-

Ari came over and wrapped her arms around him.  “Good,” she said softly.  “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

He just let himself be held, the anxiety melting slightly, here in her strong arms.  His eyes started to slide closed, soothed by the sound of her beating heart.  He had to resist the urge to follow her as she released him.  “Which is why you’re going home at nightfall.”

Valen had mixed feelings about it.  Truly he would only be safe over the border…but he was strangely loath to leave Lex and Ari, despite his very mixed feelings about them.

It didn’t have to be goodbye forever, he told himself.  They had phones.  They could call each other.  It’s not like he would never get to see them again.  Even though they were unsafe on vampire territory, and he was unsafe on human territory, they could figure something out.  If the two of them wanted to…

With considerable effort, he wrenched his train of thought back on the tracks.  Truly the only thing that could distract him from the fear of Nick was the possibility of….

Of what…?

Of….something with Lex and Ari.

But there would be time to think about that later, when Nick was no longer a looming, imminent threat.  He nodded resolutely.  “Okay.”

“What about the other vampire?” Lex asked.

Right…He couldn’t leave without making sure Nick’s second potential victim was safe from him.  He braced himself–most vampires who came over the border were here to catch a human, so this was bound to be one of the worst of the worst among vampirekind.  Maybe even one of the hunters that worked for the Kithrara blood farms, some of the nastiest people he’d ever met.

“Valen, can you hang around long enough for us to bust them out?” Ari asked.  “I’m thinking we just…go grab them and dump them in your lap, and you both go home.  Nick is gonna be pissed, but I bet we can finesse this in a way that we don’t get in too much trouble.  We might lose our jobs, but Lex and I were thinking of quitting anyway.  I’m not putting my job over my humanity.  And it does come down to that, thinking about letting someone else go through that.  Even a vampire that was here to catch a human.”

He could do that, right?  All he’d need to do would be wait, and then get delivered home and make sure this second vampire got home as well.  The thought was…  Well, it weighed on his conscience to know that freeing a random vampire might mean they’d just go take another shot at getting a human, but what was the alternative?  Kill them?  Leave them?

Valen could try talking to them.  Maybe they could be reasoned with, especially since their last attempt had failed.  He nodded.  “Yes.  Thank you.  Yes, we can do that.”

Ari ran her fingers through her hair, huffing.  “Okay.  Guess we just need to figure out what we’re gonna do, then.”

***

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[tinrange]

i think i’m a little confused by your wording (i just woke up so i apologize for that it’s probably my fault) but you’re saying the people that think ray is just using sand as another addiction are annoying right (unless that’s not what you’re saying then you can just ignore this lmao). it irritates me because i feel like ep 9 in specific proved anything but that. i think people hold onto the ideas and the way the relationships were from the beginning of the show and refuse to see them as anything else? like yes, ray was using sand to fill a void at first just like top was using mew as a new experience that he wasn’t serious about and just like how boston didn’t see nick as anything but a fuck buddy. these relationships started one way and have grown from that so it’s annoying to see them still be reduced as to what they were originally so far into the show.

and for people that continue to go on about what the narrative is saying they’re certainly missing the narrative of last episode that sand believes he’s not important to ray and that it’s just lust and his feelings aren’t serious and him expressing that multiple times in the episode only for ray to prove him wrong. they had sand say he wouldn’t drive up there for 2 hours in the middle of the night and say that he’s not important enough for it and say it’s only lust so sand could be proven wrong. sand also clearly wanted him to show that type of dedication (even though yes it was ray crossing boundaries). it was spelled out for people …..

https://www.tumblr.com/tinrange/730865004283330560/its-like-some-people-have-forgotten-the-phrase

YOU GET ITTTT yes exactly. People's perception of Ray really hasn't moved past the character introduction, hes still just the drunkard to them. Even the way lots of people talk about him healing and going to rehab has become inexplicably tied to becoming 'deserving' of sand instead of focusing on the painful process that recovery would be for him and all he would have to endure.

It honestly feels like most people lack empathy for Ray that they extend to a majority of other characters, there's a dangerous lack of awareness in the ideas being peddled and they betray so many people's subconscious views on addiction.

Ray has spent episodes on episodes reaching out to sand, listening to sand, and giving parts of himself to sand freely. Hes been kind and loving to him in numerous ways but there's a notion that he cant be in love through that addiction and that hes warped beyond belief. Its honestly sad to see.

Addiction changes you, but it is not a personal failing its a disease and one where recovery is possible, seeing people dismiss all his actions and his care as misplaced addictive tendencies strips him of his autonomy and i cant stand it!!

[calamity-unlocked]

Sometimes your zip line park isn't doing well and you have a shift of 4 hours without any people so instead you sit in a tree and write fanfiction on your phone.

Anyways this little thing is based on @manitapaleta 's GORGEOUS art piece, link here if you haven't been graced with it yet.

~

841 words - Nark

CWs: mentions of boldily harm, blood, injury

~

The touch of Lark’s hand was cold on Nick’s face, methodical in the way it moved, but lingering every so often, causing Nick’s breath to catch in his throat.

They were quiet, Lark focused on his task, Nick focused on trying not to wince.

Were the circumstances different, they’d probably be screaming at each other until their throats were torn raw. But Lark was apparently concussed – how he’d managed to achieve that he had refused to disclose – and Nick’s sympathetic nervous system still hadn’t completely calmed down after a full minute of believing his son was dead and then reliving multiple traumas at the same time.

Neither of them were at their best right now, and wanted to prevent getting into a fight that was sure to dredge up painful memories they’d both rather leave locked away alongside the skeletons in their closets. There was plenty of time for fighting later. Right now, the soft, tentative silence between them was being held in place with a mixture of bone-aching tiredness, the desire to keep their children safe, and an all-consuming hatred for Willy Stampler which made their personal feuds pale in comparison.

Willy was still out there. In their fight, Nick had wounded the bastard enough that afterward his semi-light-hearted ‘you should see the other guy’ hadn’t fallen flat. Lark, bleeding from his face and about as talkative as a gravestone, got stuck on demon-sitting duty while the others were chasing Willy, trying to make sure he didn’t get away.

Lark had gruffly asked if Nick was okay with him treating the wounds Willy’s magic knife had caused, seeing how Nick wouldn’t do a great job at it in his armless state. Why he’d offered, Nick couldn’t fathom. Why Nick had accepted was even more of a mystery.

Now, after his arm had been reattached and he’d regained a bit of agency, Nick’s gaze trailed over Lark’s toned arms which were so steadily tending to his face, to the look in his eyes that was too concentrated to be tender, but nevertheless devoid of the burning tenacity that used to always be present there.

Okay. So maybe it wasn’t that much of a mystery.

Nick was holding a bloodied cloth rag he’d previously used to keep pressure on the cut, gripping it tight like a stress ball, betraying how tense he was. He was shirtless and vulnerable, and he shouldn’t trust the man who’d loved him and betrayed him, but for some reason, he did.

Lark had cleaned the long cut running diagonally over Nick’s left cheek, and was now gently applying a layer of antiseptic cream that smelled vaguely like cranberries.

“‘S probably gonna scar,” Lark mumbled, sounding as tired as Nick felt.

“Figures,” Nick said, trying to make his tone light. “Fate’s really trying to turn me into a full-on action hero.”

“Fate’s a bitch.”

“Yeah.”

Lark pulled his shoulders back a bit when he seemed done with the scream, but not his hand. His fingers lingered on the line of Nick’s jaw and he applied a tiny bit of pressure, like a barber moving his head to see the final result. His thumb brushed over Nick’s lips – accidentally? On purpose?

Whatever the intention, Nick’s breath went shallow. Every inch of his bare skin felt hyper-exposed.

Lark’s focus was still on the lower side of Nick’s face, specifically on his lips, as though those also needed his soft-touched care– nope. Cut that thought, Nicky, bad idea. Don’t go there.

The thing was, Nick was pretty sure he could.

He could lean in. He could lean in and close his eyes and pretend that they had both forgotten the past ten years, ignoring how those lonely years had fundamentally changed them as people. He could throw caution and sensibility to the wind, just to feel that spark again.

He wouldn’t. But he could.

He wanted to.

Lark looked up at him, finally. Hesitance and regret swirled in those dark-brown pools, or maybe that was just Nick’s hopeful imagination. He didn’t remove his hand. His thumb stilled on the corner of Nick’s mouth, while his other fingers had trailed down to his neck. His heartbeat pulsed against Lark’s pinkie, betraying the way his body was reacting to their closeness much in the same way as how Lark had seemed to stop breathing altogether.

“Nicky, I…” Lark started.

The door of the med bay slammed open, startling both of them.

“He fucking got away,” Grant sighed, the others coming in behind him, looking bruised but not too worse for wear.

“Shit,” Lark cursed, the hand that had been on Nick’s face a few seconds ago clenching into a fist. The familiar ice-cold determination that left no space for warmth returned to the look in his eyes, and he abruptly stood up and joined the others, muttering in hushed tones about their next course of action.

Nick remained seated on the bench, trying frantically to get his heartbeat under control again, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted iron.

Fuck.

[angelasscribbles]

A Fervid Fixation Chapter 6: Conflagration

Series: A Fervid Fixation

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Drake

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language

Word Count: 4,159

A/N: This is me officially giving up on predicting the length of this story. 🤷🏻‍♀️

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley jumped as the door slammed behind Liam. She turned back to Drake, “What do you mean I have no idea what I’ve just done?”

“I mean…you’ve only known the charming and polite Liam, the person he is when he’s getting his way.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you don’t know what he’s capable of! Liam handles things…differently.”

“Differently how?”

“Okay, so take me for example. I’m a simple man, Riley. Straightforward. Nick pissed me off, I punched him. Tariq threatened you, I punched him. Simple. Out in the open. Resolved and moved on from. But Liam? He can destroy a person’s life from the ground up and they never see him coming until it’s too late.”

“Liam wouldn’t-

“Oh, he would, he can, and he has! I’m telling you…you don’t know him like I do! If I haven’t been fired, had my clearance revoked, and been shut out of all our systems by the time he makes it back to the office, I’ll eat my shoes.”

“But…you’re his best friend!”

“Who just betrayed him.”

“You didn’t-“

“As far as he’s concerned, I did and that’s all that matters. I told you, absolute monarchy.”

“What will you do if he fires you?”

“The job is the least of my concerns, Riley. I told you; I have money. I can get by without an income for a while. I can get another job, somewhere else, but…”

“But?”

“But I can almost guarantee he’ll have all my domestic assets frozen by nightfall. He can make it impossible for me to find another job, he can seize this property if he wants to and frankly if he decides to arrest me, I could spend the rest of my life in a prison cell.”

“But you’ve done nothing wrong or illegal!” She protested, “Surely a jury-“

“Doesn’t matter. There won’t be a trail. This isn’t America.”

“Why would he do any of that?”

“Because in his mind, I just took something that belonged to him. Liam Rys doesn’t do tit-for-tat. He goes for shock and awe. Slight him, he will raze your life to the ground.”

“I…I don’t believe you! He’s just hurt right now, he’ll calm down, you’ll see.”

Drake plucked his phone up from the coffee table where she had placed it and dialed. Putting it on speaker phone while it rang, he held it toward her so she could hear the conversation.

“Who are you calling?”

“Jason Toussaint, the Lieutenant in charge of cyber operations,” he answered.

The call connected, “Drake? What the hell is going on? I just got orders to lock you out of all systems.”

“Hey, Jason,” Drake spoke into the phone, “Has my employment been terminated?”

“Yes, and all security clearances revoked,” Jason answered, “What the hell is going on, cap?”

Drake gave Riley an I told you so look before answering, “Has the order been given to freeze my assets?”

“Yes, but I haven’t done it yet.”

“The assets don’t matter,” Drake answered, “but do that last.”

“All right. I’ll buy you as much time as I can, but be advised that your passport has been revoked.”

“Noted. Thanks, Jason.”

Drake hung up the phone and started pacing.

Riley watched him, anxiety spinning her mind in a million different directions. “What are we going to do?”        

Drake stopped pacing and turned to face her, “We need to go, now!”

“Where?”

“Anywhere that isn’t Cordonia or a country that has an extradition treaty with Cordonia. His reach ends at the border.”

“Okay, but how do we do that if you don’t have a passport?”

“We get creative!” He smiled reassuringly at her, “Don’t worry, I have a plan! Go pack your stuff!”

It didn’t take her long because she had barely unpacked. When she came back down the stairs, Drake was just hanging up the phone, “Who was that? Is everything okay?”  

“I just found out from my contact in MiSHI that the person Tariq was working with is Bastien.” He said grimly, “And there’s only one person he takes orders from.”

“Who’s that?”

“Constantine.”

Riley’s heart dropped, “Liam’s father?”

“Yes, the fucking bastard! This makes it even more imperative that we get out of the country as soon as possible. If Constantine has determined that you’re not suitable marriage material for his son, he will go to any lengths to ensure he stays away from you.”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath as she nodded, “I’m packed, we can go!”

“Me too,” He pointed to a duffle bag laying by the door, “I’ll go grab your bags, you go grab some snacks from the kitchen so we don’t have to stop any more than necessary.”

“On it!”

“There’s a cooler under the cabinet closest to the fridge!” He called over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later their stuff was loaded into the back of a nondescript range rover.

Confusion pulled through her, “Where did that come from and where’s your car?”

“My car is stashed in the garage around back where this was parked. It won’t be easily seen unless someone is looking for it. And they won’t be. They’ll be looking for it out on the road, but they won’t find it because we’ll be in this!” He grinned at her as he dangled the keys, “It was my sister’s. They won’t think to look for her car. I doubt Liam even remembers she had a car before she left!”

“Savannah, right?” she asked as she slid into the passenger seat, “You told me about her. You never told me why she left.”

“Because some fucking duke used her and threw her away like she was garbage!” he climbed into the driver’s seat and put the car in gear as he spoke, “Made a big deal about how she was good enough to fuck but not good enough to marry. Then she found out she was pregnant and was afraid the guy would take her to court and get custody of the kid. And he would have won because he had all the money and all the power. So I helped her move away before anyone here even knew she was pregnant.”

“Jesus…that…that sucks, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged, “Fuck that guy. She dodged a bullet if you ask me.”

He navigated the vehicle down the rutted-out path and eventually onto a better, but still rough dirt road. It took twenty minutes before they hit pavement.

“So…an officer in the Royal Guard, huh?”

“Yes, the youngest Captain in the history of the guard!” he told her proudly.

“I’m sorry you’re giving that up.”

“What?” he pulled his eyes from the road briefly to look at her, “It’s fine. I did what had to be done. I have no regrets.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, if titles and money were what you cared about, mine weren’t going to impress you. I’m a captain in the Cordonian Royal Guard, not a crown prince or even a duke. I make good money and I have a small inheritance from my grandmother, but I can’t compete with billionaires.”  

“I don’t care about your money, Drake.” She sighed, “I literally chose you over a crown prince, remember?”

That got a smile out of him, “You did, didn’t you?”

She smiled back, “I did.”

“I still can’t believe you did that!” his voice held a note of awe as his hand reached for hers.

She squeezed his back and smiled, “So where are we going?”

“To Hadley Airfield.”

“What is that and why are we going there?”

“It’s an old government-owned airstrip that’s still staffed by the guard, but used primarily for non-military purposes. Crop dusting, running supplies for research missions, shit like that. It’s a low priority for upgrades so it’s still pretty low-tech. I won’t need to swipe a key card to get in, just punch in a code that I’d bet money no one has thought to change, and even if they did, they’d have to physically send someone there to do it.”

“So…what? We’re going to steal a plane?”

He gave her a mischievous grin, “Yep.”

“Wait…seriously?”

“Seriously. An old one that can’t be controlled remotely. Then we’re going to fly right over the border into Auvernall. No extradition treaty and they have an international airport there.”

They would ditch the stolen plane and melt into the masses of people in Auvernall before hopping a flight to anywhere in the world and disappearing off Liam’s radar forever.

“And just who the hell is going to fly this plane?”

“I am!”

“You’re a pilot?”

His grin widened, it was downright cocksure as he answered, “Before I joined the guard, my prior service was in the Cordonian Royal Air Force, babe. Yes, I can fly a plane.”

Five hours later they pulled up to a rusted metal gate and stopped at an unmanned guard station. Drake rolled the window down and typed a code into the box. The gate made a loud buzzing sound and then slid open.

“Told you!” He gloated as they drove unimpeded into the airport.

“I never doubted you!”

He navigated the Range Rover through the airport to a row of metal aircraft hangers in the back. He pulled up next to a small office building and put the vehicle in park. “I have to go inside and check the logs.”

“Why?”

“I need to know which planes are fueled and ready to go. I need to know the flight schedule. The last thing we want is to take a plane with a mechanical issue, not enough fuel or to take off at the wrong time and crash into another aircraft.”

“Okay,” She nodded, “I’m coming with you!”

“No,” he shook his head, “You should stay in the car.”

“And what if someone comes to ask me what I’m going here?”

He rolled that around in his head for a few seconds before acquiescing, “All right. Let’s go!”

A bell tinkled as they entered the office. An air-conditioned blast hit them, a stark contrast to the heat and humidity outside.

A slender, blonde-haired man with a crew cut looked up from his seat at the desk, “Hey, you can’t be in here-“

Drake flashed his badge at the young corporal, “I need access to the flight schedule and maintenance records.”

“Yes, sir!” The corporal surged to his feet, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to produce the records.

After thrusting the requested documents into Drake’s hands, the young man glanced in Riley’s direction.

“Hey!” Drake snapped his fingers in the kid’s face, “She’s not your concern!”

“R-Right! Sorry!”

Drake flipped quickly through some pages on a clipboard before tossing them onto the desktop. He grabbed Riley’s arm and aimed her toward the door, “Come on, let’s go!”

The bell jingled as the door opened again and a lone figure strode through it, blocking the light so all Riley could make out was a silhouette.

Drake took several steps back, pulling Riley with him, “Bas? What are you doing here? How did you know-“

“You don’t think I remember Leo giving us the slip just like this when you were partnered with me during your training year?”

“Shit! Fuck!” Drake kicked at a pile of boxes, sending them toppling over. He pulled Riley closer and put his mouth to her ear so only she could hear, “When I tell you to go, you get in the car and go. Meet me at hanger forty-seven. Got it? Don’t talk. Just nod if you understand.”  

She nodded as he discreetly pressed his keys into the palm of her hand.

“This place is going to be swarming with King’s Guards any minute,” Bastien flashed his badge at the corporal and told him, “Go on kid, get out of here before you end up in the middle of a shootout.”

The kid scrambled out the door without a backward glance.

Why are you doing this, Bas?” Drake asked, “I thought you believed she wasn’t good enough to marry Liam.”

“What I believe doesn’t matter, I have my orders, I can’t let you leave,” Bastien reached for Riley’s arm.

Drake moved quickly, pulling her out of his reach, “God damn it, Bas! I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“I’m trying to help you-“

“Go!” Drake spun Riley toward the door with one arm as the other shot out to clothesline the older man.

Riley hit the door running and didn’t slow down until she skidded into the Range Rover. She yanked the door open, clambered up into the driver’s seat, and threw the car in gear, leaving rubber on the asphalt as she careened out of the parking area.

Her eyes scanned the dingy metal hangers as she drove. They each had a number painted on them in now faded yellow paint. When she found the correct one, she drove straight into it and slammed the brakes on.

Flinging the door open, she rushed back to push the sliding doors of the hangar shut.

Maybe that would slow them down. She ran back to the car and started transferring luggage to the plane.

When she was done, she began pacing back and forth across the hangar. Minutes ticked by as she considered going back.

She started talking to herself, “What if he got hurt? What if he got arrested? Fuck!”

She made up her mind to go back if he didn’t appear within the next two minutes. Out loud she said, “Come on, Drake! Where are you?”

Footsteps sounded near the rear of the hangar, and she whirled toward it, ready to run.

Drake stepped away from a small door she hadn’t noticed before. He grinned at her, “I’m right here, Brooks. Miss me?”

“Oh, thank God!” She rushed into his arms, “What happened?”

“I had to knock Bastien out,” he said grimly as he caught her, “he wasn’t going to let us leave.”  

“I’m sorry, I know you were close.”

“Yeah, well, he may have been my godfather and he may have loved my mother,” Drake said as he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, “but his first loyalty was always to the crown.”

“Well, I’m still sorry you had to hurt him.”

“It’s okay, he’ll recover,” he told her as he released her, “But we have minutes to get out of here before soldiers are everywhere. Let’s go!”

He took her by the hand and headed for the plane. He made it to the steps when she pulled her hand away, “Wait! I forgot-“

“There’s no time!”

“Your phone! It’s in the console!”

Shit! He was going to need that to reach his contact in Auvenall. “I’ll get it, you get on the plane!” He reversed direction and pushed past her.

He scooped the phone out of the center console and didn’t bother closing the door as he hustled back to the plane.

Riley was still standing at the bottom of the steps, waiting for him, instead of on the plane like he’d told her.

“Freeze!” The doors of the hanger banged open as soldiers poured into the room, scattering and taking up tactical positions around the area.

Drake pushed her in front of him, “Get on the plane!”

“But-“ she stumbled as he guided her body forward while her head moved around to see behind them.

“Riley! Drake!” Liam’s voice rang out as he stepped past the guardsmen.

Drake spun around, yanking a nine-millimeter Baretta from the waistband of his pants. He leveled the firearm at Liam while making sure to keep himself situated in front of Riley, blocking her from any potential gunfire.

Every assault rifle in the place was suddenly aimed at them as the king’s life was threatened.

“It’s okay, hold your fire!” Liam yelled at them as he held his arms out to the side to indicate that he himself was unarmed. He couldn’t risk Riley getting shot when they took Drake down. “Are you going to shoot me, Drake? Your best friend? Your brother?”

“Is that what you are?”

“You know it is,” Liam replied calmly.

“Did you tell Riley that I was obsessed with her? That I was unhinged?” Drake demanded.

Liam’s eyes slid to Riley’s face then back to Drake, “You have been acting erratically, Drake. Nick…Tariq…coronation night…this! Stealing a plane? Really?”

“Borrowing it,” Drake corrected him, “You can have it back once we’re safely out of the country.”

“This is treason, Drake. Come on, man. Be reasonable!”

Drake’s back pressed against Riley, eyes still trained on Liam as he moved backward, nudging her up the first step. In a low voice, he told her, “Everything I did, I did for you! You understand that, right?”

“Don’t move!” One of the guardsmen yelled as Drake edged Riley up another step.

A rifle clicked.

Riley’s gaze swung around the room to take in the ridiculous number of guns pointed directly at Drake’s chest. “No!” she pushed around and in front of him, placing herself between him and the guns.

“Riley, don’t!” Both men yelled.

She spread both arms out in the air, “I won’t let you shoot him! Liam, please! He’s your best friend!”

“I don’t want to hurt him, Riley, but-“

An officer stepped up next to Liam and whispered something in his ear.

Drake kept the handgun grasped in one hand while the other landed on her shoulder, “Riley, get behind me and get on the plane!”

“No! They’ll shoot you!”

“Riley-“

Liam’s features hardened, “Riley, you don’t understand-“

“No, I don’t Liam! Why can’t we just leave?”

“Well for starters, Bastien is dead, and we have some questions,” Liam replied grimly.

“What?” Drake stumbled back like he’d been struck, shaking his head, “No! No!”

Liam’s face reddened, and his voice was laden with accusation, “You killed him!”

“No! I just disabled him! He was alive when I left!”

“Then who killed him, Drake?”

“I don’t know, Liam, you tell me!”

“Are you insinuating-“

“I’m not just insinuating, Li! You had him killed so he couldn’t reveal your father’s part in the plot against Riley!” Drake accused, then after a moment’s thought added, “And possibly so you could pin it on me!”

Liam’s eyes darted from Drake to Riley, “You’re not buying any of this, are you?”

“I don’t know, Liam.” Her eyes narrowed, “When I chose Drake, you told me I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. That sure sounded like a threat.”

“When I said you’d made a mistake, I meant by trusting him!”

“But Drake’s been telling the truth about you, Liam, I heard it myself!”

“From whom?” Liam asked in astonishment.

“Jason.”

“Who’s Jason?”

Her confidence wavered, “The Lieutenant in charge of cyber security…”

“There’s no Lieutenant named Jason in the cyber division, Riley.” Liam shook his head sadly then extended his arm toward her, “Come on, Riley, just take a few steps forward and all this can be over.”

Drake’s fingers dug into her shoulder, as he moved up another step, pulling her after him, “He’s lying, Riley! Can’t you see that?”

“No, Riley,” Liam moved his fingers in a come hither motion, “He’s lying! Just take a few steps forward and come here.”

“So…you didn’t fire him and revoke his clearance?” Riley asked, uncertainty coloring her voice.

“Of course, I fired him and revoked his clearance!” Liam exploded, throwing both hands in the air, “he abused his position and literally kidnapped you!”

“I rescued you, Riley!” Drake protested, “He told you himself, he wanted you on that plane that night!”

Riley’s mind spun with indecision. She still had questions, “What about his assets?”

Liam’s brows furrowed, “What about them?”

“Did you have them frozen? Did you revoke his passport?”

“Yes! Because I was trying to stop him from doing exactly what he’s doing right now! Once he gets you out of Cordonia, I won’t be able to protect you! But it didn’t matter anyway.”

“What do you mean, it didn’t matter?”

“I mean…he had no assets to freeze. Why is that Drake?”

Drake shrugged as he adjusted the Barretta in his grip, “I moved all my assets out of Cordonia two days ago, Liam.”

“And why would you do that if you weren’t planning this little escapade all along?”

“Because I know how you operate! I had to protect myself, and her!” He lowered his voice so only Riley could hear, “That’s why I told Jason to do that part last. So it took longer for Liam to figure out I was a step ahead.”

“Me?” Liam scoffed, “I think you’re the tactical genius here.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Drake said evenly as he moved up another step, pulling Riley up with him.

“I mean….I’m beginning to think maybe you were behind the whole setup with Tariq!”

“You think I sent him to do the thing I beat the dog shit out of him for? I never pegged you as delusional, Li.”

“Maybe you didn’t know about that part. Maybe that was all Bas’s idea.”

“Bas?” Drake snorted, “You know he only took orders from one person…your father! And we all know how badly he wanted you married to Madeleine! Speaking of Madeleine, are we sure she wasn’t in on the whole thing?”

“My father is far too sick to be meddling in my affairs. We all know the person Bas would have done anything for was you!”

“What?” Riley froze, almost to the top step.

“Think about it, Riley!” Liam insisted, “He contrived the entire scandal precisely because he knew what the protocol would be, he’s a trained, high-ranking officer after all! And he knew precisely what my reaction would be. He likes pointing out how well he knows me. He’s right. He does! He knew I’d want you out of the country and out of harm’s way while I investigated and cleared your name. It was the perfect opportunity for him to swoop in and play the hero, paint me as the villain. Which is exactly what he did, isn’t it?”

Panic laced Drake’s voice, “Riley, you’re not buying this, are you? He’s twisting everything!”

“How convenient that Bastien is dead,” Liam continued, “He was the only person that could have connected you to the scandal.”

“The only person that could have exonerated me and implicated your father you mean! That is convenient, isn’t it?”

“Riley, come here!” Liam’s voice cracked, betraying signs of his rising desperation.

“Riley, get on the plane…” Drake pleaded.

She hesitated as everything they had both said swirled through her mind. They both made persuasive arguments. She was never going to know the truth either way. How well did she really know either of these men?

There was one thing she did know for sure though, “Liam, I know one thing...”

“What’s that?”

“I know you’re a liar!”

His arm dropped as shock coursed through him, “What?”

“You told me you loved me! You told me you were going to marry me! You fucked me in the hedge maze and then you turned around five minutes later and got engaged to another woman while letting me be drug out of the palace under armed guard!”

“That was different! I’ve explained why! I have to think about Cordonia, Riley!”

“I understand that Liam. I do.” She nodded.

His body sagged with relief, “Good. Okay, come here,” he held his arm out toward her again.

She stepped back, her body pushing Drake up another step, “But…”

All the stress rushed back into his body, “But?”

“But I need a man who puts me first and Drake has proven he’s more than up to that task.”

Liam’s mouth fell open, “Even if he’s a liar and a murderer?”

“He’s not, Liam. You’re wrong about him!”

Drake took one more step back, into the plane then dropped the gun as he yanked Riley inside and slammed the door.

“Goddamn it!” Liam kicked fruitlessly at the ground.

“Sir?” The officer in charge of the scene approached him as the plane’s engine roared to life, sending half the contents of the hangar flying through the air.

Shouts of “Cover! Cover!” pinged off the walls as Liam was yanked backward and drug to safety.

Men scattered and dove out of the way as the plane taxied out of the hangar and onto the runway.

“Sir!” The commander yelled, “We can still stop them! We can aim for the pilot or the fuel tank!”

Liam watched as the plane picked up speed. He shook his head, “No, if the pilot’s dead, the plane will crash, if it loses all its fuel, there’s a chance it gets airborne before it runs out and plummets to the ground.”

He still wasn’t willing to risk her life.

“But sir-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Liam sighed as he watched the plane climb into the air. He still had one play left, “Get me Isabella Achilles on the phone. Now!”