#have rough ideas for 1 more part + an epilogue

[useless19]

Still going with this.

Tw: vomit

...

Bowser curses as he fails to turn around. The palace toilets might be a step above most of the ones in the castle town, in that the flush works and they look clean. However, none of them have been built on Bowser's scale. His shell has gotten wedged every single time he's tried to use the loo.

Granted, that's only been twice so far (once during his armour fitting and now), but that's plenty!

Bowser grits his teeth as he twists around. He (stupidly) picked the stall at the end of the row, so now he has a rough stone wall on one side and flimsy wood on the other. The wood groans as his shell spikes gouge into it, bowing it horribly.

The bathroom door bangs open. Bowser freezes. The last thing he wants is to be known as the guy who got stuck in the toilet. He's not even officially employed yet.

There's some shaky breathing, then the other person retches. Bowser can hear the splatter of liquid into the sink. Eww. He'd been half considering actually washing his hands for once and now this? There's another cough and splutter and then a weak sob.

Okay, screw this. Bowser shoves his way out of the toilet (taking out the cubicle wall and knocking the door off one hinge).

Prince — very soon to be King — Luigi stares at him. He's unhealthily pale and his hands are shaking.

"How long have you been there?" Luigi asks in a thready voice.

"Your pre-coronation party was boring." Bowser waves at the destruction. "Petty vandalism is way more fun."

Luigi frowns at the splintered wood, but instead of growing angry and shouting for Bowser's arrest like his brother would have, his eyes widen in realisation as he looks at Bowser again.

"Oh, that's…" Luigi coughs into his fist, clearing his throat. "I'll have to speak to the architects about remodelling. Is there any other part of the castle that you think might need adjusted?"

Bowser crosses his arms, annoyingly embarrassed. "It's fine, it's big enough. Too big for stumpy humans like you."

"Stumpy? That's the first time anyone's called me short," Luigi manages the ghost of a smile.

"Get used to it."

"The castle doesn't feel big to me," Luigi says. "Maybe it's just because I grew up here and I'm used to it. Sometimes it feels too small for anyone. Claustrophobic, even."

How an entire castle could feel small, Bowser would never know. One thing's for sure; he doesn't need it rubbing into his snout that he didn't grow up in luxury. He can't stand up in his childhood house without bashing his head on the ceiling (that is, if it had survived the fire).

This is going to be a miserable job if the king insists on showing off his wealth and privilege at every opportunity. Bowser reminds himself that the pay is good as he turns away to wash his hands in a different sink.

"Are you done throwing up in sinks now?" Bowser asks gruffly.

"I…" Luigi loses what little humour he had when Bowser glances at him. "I'm sorry. I'm nervous about, well, everything that comes with my coronation."

"Everything," Bowser says flatly.

"It's a lot of pressure and I don't know if I'm up to the task." Luigi says. "It's a difficult job. What if I mess up and people think I'm a terrible king?"

"Oh, boo hoo," Bowser snaps. "I'm the king and I get to live in a massive castle and sleep in a feather bed and never have to worry about where my next meal's coming from, but I still worry that people won't like me! I'm so privileged I can't appreciate that my bathroom has consistent running water. I'll just whine about my petty little problems to everyone because I don't even have to play the social game because I'm the bloody king!"

Smoke hisses through Bowser's fangs with his words. He knows he's scary when his fire threatens. Prince Luigi's fists are balled and trembling as he glares up at Bowser. Good, let him fear.

"Are you finished?" Luigi says.

"Depends if you're going to complain about how hard such a cushy life is again," Bowser says, flexing his fingers.

Luigi looks at his reflection, anger blotching his cheeks. Bowser folds his arms, wanting… more, somehow, but he doesn't know what it would be. How hard can it be, really, being the king? You want for nothing and everyone has to do as you say. The last king knew that and —

Shoot.

This isn't Mario. This isn't the king that Bowser's spent most of the past five years railing against over petty laws and unnecessary arrests (mostly his own). This is someone unprepared for their new job and still grieving a family member.

Fine, whatever. Bowser knows how to be delicate. Or at least he knows how to get someone refocused on the job again. Same difference.

"So when do you need to be back out there?" Bowser asks, nodding towards the door.

"I should be there now," Luigi says. He splashes some water onto his face but only succeeds in making himself look like a drowned squeek.

"They can't have the ceremony without you. When do you want to go back out there?" Bowser says.

"It doesn't work like that," Luigi says. "Even if I'm royalty, I still have to follow the rules or —"

Bowser rolls his eyes. "I don't mean you have to order people to delay it. No one does everything on time all the time. If you want to put it off for another day, find an excuse."

"I don't want to put it off," Luigi says. "I'm not going to get more confident for waiting."

That's abundantly clear. Bowser tilts his head as he thinks. Has Luigi honestly never lied to a tutor to get an extension on his work? Or told his advisors he was meeting with someone reputable in order to sneak out to a party? What a straight-laced wimp.

"Alright, on your head be it," Bowser says.

"It will." Luigi coughs, hiding what Bowser is sure is a smile. "The crown, I mean."

Bowser can't help his snort of laughter. "That's terrible."

As awful as the joke is, it's at least wiped away the worst of the misery clouding Luigi. Bowser straightens Luigi's fancy fur-trimmed cloak before remembering that randomly touching royalty is the sort of thing that can get lowlifes like him a one-way ticket to the hangman. Well, he's never met a situation he couldn't brash his way through.

"Drink some water, go back out," Bowser says, shoving Luigi towards the sinks. "And I'll get a rumour spread that you narrowly avoided assassination so those poncy nobles think you look shaken because of that."

"Which would also highlight the importance of hiring on a bodyguard," Luigi says wryly.

"Now you're getting the idea."

Luigi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He splashes water on his face again and then takes a drink using one of the cups on the shelf behind the sinks (who puts cups in a communal bathroom, seriously?). He doesn't look ready to do anything as important as getting crowned, but he doesn't look a shade away from passing out like he had before.

"Okay, let's go," Luigi says.

He pauses at the door and turns back to face Bowser instead.

"Is running water still a problem in the castle town?" Luigi asks. "Mario had the pipes overhauled a few years ago; I thought —"

"Nah, not anymore," Bowser says. "But I bet you didn't have to worry when the urchin infestation was at its worst."

"No, you're right, I didn't," Luigi says. He sighs. "Sorry."

Bowser groans. "Stop that."

Complaining about the silver spoon in his mouth is one thing, being pathetic is another. Bowser refuses to put up with self-flagellation while he's working, it brings down the whole mood.

"Go knock 'em dead," Bowser says.

Luigi gives one last determined nod and then leaves.

Bowser runs a hand through his hair. He's going to have to wait a few minutes before heading out on his own and then he really should hang around at the ceremony for a bit. Mostly he needs to make sure he's a visible presence at court because half the job of being a deterrent is reputation, but also partly because assassination attempts are a legit concern. There probably won't be any (if Bowser's luck is anything to go by, this is going to be the most boring day of his life), but maybe it'd be fun to make it look like there's a threat to watch all the rich people panic.

Bowser counts to a hundred and then shoulders his way out of the bathroom after the soon-to-be-king.

[sevs-corner]

Back to more ideas on Tf 141: Mafia AU!

(Im world building rn + epilogue/ extra scene to the 1st Chapter)

Link to prev part:

So I was thinking how, the relationship would build between the 5 (Tf 141 and reader) naturally, ‘cause I want the story to build off of like small interactions and one shots but sometimes have like, coherent chapters in between to stabilize the “plot” per se.

(Im rusty with my writing skills and I kinda dont edit, ‘cause this is just practice for me but still lmao)

And I want it to be something gradual (just call it slow burn, they say) and I know I write interactions in a slow kinda way where it bounces back and forth from person to person, showing the reader’s perspective then subtly shifting to the character’s perspective— but I think I want to experiment into that, focusing more on dialogue and conversational exchanges that shows how close their relationship has gotten.

For ex, I was thinking how Soap was still wary of reader in the first chap- not as affectionate as he is with his mates right off the bat, he’s wary and it comes naturally in his line off work. You’re an oddity sure, but its not like he’ll put down his walls for you (yet). His speech is rough and clipped, not wanting to reveal much but letting you be privy to the information he can provide- in the mean time anyways.

Yet , at the same time, I want to show his attraction—

He’s enamored and has (maybe) a little crush, but who wouldn’t when you’re so pretty? Sitting there in the room where they grew up, blanket lazily draped across your form as your barely awake self tries to wake up on his bed, hair poking out in all sorts of places, drool dried at the side of your mouth but damn did he think you were a fresh sight to see in this city.

Maybe you were seducing him? Or was it the allure of the domesticity that was lacking in their relationship? He puts those thoughts to the back of his head ‘till he waits for the news of that meeting he was left out of last night- he feels its important when checking out who you really are.

They can’t afford to be careless, but on the other hand- you kinda were, when you first met them unfortunately, that is. Absent-minded and clumsy, that was what he thought of you as he stared at your tripped up self, sadly sitting in a puddle in pain. You were pale, shivering, and simply a mess.

Honestly, the more that he thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense to treat you like a threat. Well, at least not an active one at that. You could have been having an off day as a spy or an assassin, but if it were him— he wouldn’t be caught slacking like that in public, whether people knew him or of his occupation either way.

He could even see how you lowered your guard! Jeez, you should be more careful- especially with people like him and his mates- if you’re new to the place. He thinks you might be a lil’ looney for going to this place, especially that part of the city when all of its occupants know that it was mostly a dangerous area to get in to and stay at.

As the neutral hub for all of the mafioso around the cities, it is the one place for regular folks not to get involved in. (Unless you want to meet them of course, but he doubts that was your intention… or, shit- it could have been, considering how Price found something on you.)

Now he thinks of you as a potential client, which makes him feel worse of how off-handedly he treated you.

He knew he was gettin’ an ass kickin’ from Ghost if you were, surely.

Alas, what done has been done- at least you still treated him normally as he left, so he thinks he left a good impression.

Though, that wasn’t at the forefront of your mind right now.

Quite literally, you were being worked to the bone for information from the old Italian couple that helped you stay at their lodgings at the 2nd floor of their bakery.

“‘It’ll help un-fuck my week,’ they said but all gave me was a hope that my minimum wage self has to fight for as they get free labor in return!”

But you don’t dare say that, knowing you were speaking out of turn and out of misplaced anger so you keep your mouth shut- cleaning up the bakery for the opening in the morning.

The couple was sweet, but they were also strict, telling you that “you should move your arse so you can sweat off the sick!” Which… you didn’t want to make sense off so you just nodded, asking if that was the compensation for the information of finding your place, and they agreed. On the stipulation that you work and do all the chores on the list they handed you, making you gape and about to ask for a little consideration— but they quickly disappear, out of sight and out of mind, they say.

And you think that was better before you started mouthing off, not get anything, and then end up lost once more— which you wanted to avoid at all costs so you did sweat off the sick.

Albeit, you looked worse for wear.

Which Ghost bluntly points out as you waited their table.

…let’s just say that it was an overtime work-shift that you didn’t get money for and old italian people were slave drivers.

(yes, i made the love-hate relationship start with nonna and nonno)

[gunilslaugh]

Gone Mad Epilogue

Lee Jooyeon Summary: Jooyeon is still a wanted man and you’re still protecting him. (non-idol au) WC:690 Warning:none

part 1 part 2 part 3

photo not mine credits to owner.

“I’d like to buy a dress.” You hardly register the voice talking, remaining focused on your work. 

“Sure, y/n come help this customer!” The shop owner called you over. You set down the sewing needle you were holding in order to go help the customer. 

“Coming!” you notified. Your eyes grow wide when you see the customer standing near the entrance of the shop.

“Jooyeon, what are you doing here?” you whisper shouted upon reaching him. You grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled him over where there was a rack of dresses. 

“Can I not come see you at work?” he asked. 

“Not when my work often had palace officials visiting it,” you scolded him. You took a quick look around your shop to make sure that there wasn’t anyone from the palace currently inside. 

“Aww are you worried about me?” He placed his hands over his heart. 

“Jooyeon don’t play games. Seriously, you shouldn’t be here.” You take another paranoid look around the shop.

“Relax pretty.” Jooyeon grabs you by your shoulders. “You’ve seen the wanted posters. Those idiots have no idea what I look like,” he laughs. 

“But if a palace knight comes in here I’m sure they’ll have no problem recognizing you,” you voiced your concern. 

“If a palace knight walked in here I’d kill him in an instant,” Jooyeon states. 

“Jooyeon please?” You begged for him to take this more seriously.

“Ok, ok. I just wanted to see some of the dresses you made,” he told you his real reason for visiting your shop. 

“This purple one, and this blue one, this one too,” you pointed out some of the dresses you made adorning the rack. “Most of the dresses sitting over there are mine too.” you pointed to a stack of dresses sitting towards the back of the shop. “They’re not all done yet,” you added. 

Just then you hear the chime of the bells on your shop’s door and the sound of metal rubbing against one another. Your heart drops. You looked over the top of the rack and saw that a palace knight had entered your shop. Quickly you shoved Jooyeon behind some rolls of fabric. 

“What are you doing?”

“Be quiet!” you instructed him. 

“I’m here to pick up the countess’s dress,” the knight said. 

“Of course. Y/n where are you?” your shop owner called out for you. 

“There’s a door in the back. Go while I distract them,” you whispered to Jooyeon. He nodded at you. 

“I’m right here,” you came out from behind the rack. 

“Good. Where’s the customer you were helping?” the owner asked. 

“Oh, he said he wanted this dress.” You pulled off your blue dress from the rack. “But he asked if I could add a lace layer around the outside of the skirt.” You grandly gestured around the skirt area of the dress to keep both the shop owner and the knight's attention while Jooyeon quietly crept to the back of the shop.

“It’ll cost him extra,” the owner said sternly. 

“I informed him,” you say. The shop owner nods. 

“You said you’re here for the countess’s dress?” you asked, turning to the knight.

“Yes,” the knight answered. 

“Great, I'll go grab it. It’s in the back,” you informed. You went to the back of the shop where you met Jooyeon who was standing by the door. 

“What are you still doing here? I told you to go” you sigh. Jooyeon leans forwards and presses a featherlight kiss to your lips. 

“I didn’t get to do that,” he explained. 

“Well now that you’ve done it, get out of here,” you shoved him towards the door. 

“Ok. You don’t need to be so rough. Meet me at our spot later?” he checked. 

“Yes, I’ll see you there. Now go,” you ushered him out the door. Jooyeon chuckles at how protective you are over him, but he really does appreciate it. It makes his heart feel warm. 

You’ve never thought you would be so protective over a man who is technically a murderer, yet here you are. Perhaps you and Jooyeon had both gone mad.

part 1 part 2 part 3

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin

comment or message me to be added!

[signedeclipse]

would you ever write a part 3 or an epilogue for All For You?? I'm dying to see hantengu try to confess and explain himself

All For You | Part Final [Hantengu X Reader]

Reader is Human Female | Fluff | Part 1 + Part 2

Recomended Song - I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

The air tasted sweeter than usual, your chest rising as you pulled in a wide waking breath, sharply whistling an exhale.

That had to be the best sleep you'd gotten in ages, but despite that fact, your body ached in the same way it did when you used to go on missions. It felt as if…

You'd been manhandled by a demon… or four?

A shaky hand rose and pushed the mess of your hair back, just to keep it out of the way, all while using your wrist to rub one of your eyes with a much needed yawn.

"Huh."

The light blue colour of your extra bed set seemed to have replaced the one you usually slept with. But, when could you have done that? Using both hands to grab the edge and push it off your body, you were surprised to see yourself entirely naked, and very much bruised.

Not only that, but the soft smell of your lavender soap was noticeable.

Had you done something messy and cleaned up? Certainly you weren't at full thinking capacity yet, but you'd remember that many events.

And bruises? That looked like fingerpr-

"Oh. Oh my-" Your hand fell into your hands, hiding the red tint that fell upon your cheeks.

Wallowing in the embarrassment, a sharp nailed hand weakly pushed the sliding door of your room open, catching you at the worst time. In a moment, you grabbed the sheets to cover yourself, knees pushing up against your chest in an attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Hantengu!" It was him again, the one you recognized and not the four that had intruded on your peaceful evening mere hours ago.

"Im sorry! I-I- you hadn't woken up in an entire day! I was just, just-" Despite pushing the sentence on, he seemed to be at a loss for words, while also not caring about the fact that he had walked in on you naked.

Silence fell between you two, and while you had no idea what he could be thinking of, you were flashing between glimpses of last night's events.

"Who… those men." You had pointed a finger at him, and he seemed to shamefully back away a step or two, albeit on his hand and knees.

"Yes, yes you are correct, they are me." He was hiding his face into one hand, letting his curled black hair help cover his face, unable to look you in the eye. He remembered it alright, remembered every angle, and every curve.

You only sighed, laying back down to relax your aching muscles, staring at the scaffolding ceiling.

"I can't say I expected any of that, I'm not that familiar with how demons work, I'm just glad I'm not, you know… dead-" 

"Never! We could never kill you!" Fractically, he crawled towards you, shakily holding a hand inches from your head, before caressing your cheek.

He was warm, much like his clones, but his hands much more calloused and rough, as if they'd worked far longer. It was a comforting gesture which you leaned into, and you could tell he enjoyed the fact by the way he hitched his breath.

"So that was the best way you could make me yours?" In the sincerity of the moment, you still found a way to joke, which simultaneously eased and increased his nervousness.

"Well-"  "You don't have to say anything, I accept."  "Accept?"  "Yes."

He still seemed to be discontent with what you were providing, though listened carefully when your hand brushed against his, pushing his hand further into your cheek.

"Yes, I accept being yours."

Author Note -  I wanted something a little shorter but still sweet to tie off the series, so I hope this was a good little ending! Thank you for requesting <3 Props to the first Eclipse Series!!!!!!!!!

Word Count - 604

[bellaireland1981]

Stubborn Hearts | 7

Summary: Reader (Firecracker, Sunshine) has been in love with Bradley since she was a young girl. Growing up the two were inseparable, apart from short periods of time when she was on the West Coast with the Kazanskys. One faithful decision by her dad to block Bradley from going to the Naval Academy resulted in a huge rift between father and daughter and left her without Bradley in her life. Now all grown up, she’s called back to the west coast at the same time as her father and Bradley. Her mission, according to her dying godfather, is to mend fences with her dad and Bradley. Can stubborn hearts be healed?

(I suck at summaries for real).

This will have multiple chapters… this is 7 of 8 (Plus an epilogue)

Characters: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mitchell! Reader, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Daughter! Reader, The Dagger Squad, Shay (OC), Penny, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Word Count: 6836

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Death of character, TGM Spoilers, Illusions to Smut (later on ), Turbulent relationship with parent, Friends to lovers, …Please let me know if I’ve missed any!

A/N- This is my first time writing for TGM. I do not own the characters or plot lines from the movie. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR REPRODUCE MY WORK ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM! Reblogging is always welcome! Feedback is MUCH loved and appreciated. THANK YOU to @waywardodysseys​ for all support and bouncing ideas!!

Ch 1    Ch 2   Ch 3   Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6

Tags below ! If I forgot anyone, please message me! If you want to be added, let me know!

The next couple of days you did everything you could to stay busy. You’d called Frank and begged for a charter gig so you’d have something to do besides sit and worry.  Thankfully, he’d had a couple of quick runs for you, similar to the first one you’d done.

Your aunt had called the first night checking on you, having talked to Penny. She offered to come back early but you’d told her absolutely not. She needed this time away and so did the kids. You assured her you’d be just fine. As long as you were busy doing something, you were ok.  

You used the time you had to look for rentals in the area too. You couldn’t live with your aunt forever, and if you were settling here, you needed to know your options. Finding a few you liked, you called to set up a time to look at them on the second day.

You and Shay had decided to meet at the Hard Deck for drinks that night, and you were excited to tell her about the places you looked at that afternoon.

The bar wasn’t as crowded, being it was the middle of the week. There were still a mix of Naval officers, civilians, and tourists, but not as populated as it would be if it were closer to the weekend.

“There she is!” Penny said, smiling as you made your way to the bar. “Cocktails or Beer tonight?”

“Vodka and cranberry please!” You replied, “Thanks, Penny!”

“Uh oh, hard stuff” Shay teased, “Rough day?”

“Obnoxious passengers on the charter back.” You said, “I was so tempted to practice barrel rolls with the damn plane just to fuck with them.”

“You are your father’s daughter.” Penny teased, placing the glass in front of you.”

“Speaking of my dad…” You said, “Any chance you’ve heard anything from the grapevine about the mission?”

“Complete radio silence on all ends.” She said, “It’s mission day though if they’re on track, so maybe tonight or tomorrow we will hear from someone.”

“This is the part that I hate the most.” You said, taking a sip of your drink, “Waiting sucks.”

“That it does, Kiddo,” Penny agreed. “But, misery loves company, so I guess we’re all in the right place.”

“Amen to that.” You and Shay agree.

“So… I spent the afternoon looking at rentals.” You said, “I’m actually torn between two that are absolutely perfect. Added bonus, they’re in my price range on the comfortable end, especially with the savings I’ve built up.”

“You’re staying!” Shay cheered, “I’m so freaking excited! Tell me more”!

“I need roots. I’ve learned that I can have roots and wings, so….yes. I’m staying.” You replied, happily.

“Smart girl.” Penny said, laughing “It’s taken you a lot shorter time to learn that lesson than your dad.”

“In his defense, I think my dad may have a bit of Peter Pan syndrome.” You joked, “but it appears to me I’m not the only one trying to establish roots.”

“Where are these places located? Are we talking houses or apartments?” Shay asked.

“I found a really cute bungalow in Imperial Beach that’s 3 bedrooms and 2 baths that actually has a tiny backyard to it.” You said, “The neighborhood is pretty nice too, and it’s not too far from everything.”

“I like the sound of that one… what about the other?” Shay asked.

“It’s a townhome with 2 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. It’s adorable but no outside space.” You answered, “It IS within a 10 minute walk to the naval base…”

“That would be very convenient.” Penny winked knowingly. “Are those the only 2 you found?”

“So far. They’re the only 2 I looked at at least.” You clarified. “Honestly the house holds a lot of appeal. It’s adorable, has more space… and is only 8 miles from the Naval Air Station.”

“I am sensing a trend in your housing choices.” Shay teased, “Not that I can blame you.”

“I mean, I’m just thinking of being somewhat close to the people I love. Neither are too far from Aunt Sarah, here, or my dad. It’s a win all around.”

“Nothing to do with being close to Rooster?” Shay asked, winking.

“This isn’t his permanent duty station.” You reminded her, “It’s none of their permanent duty stations. They’re all attached to other squadrons. But this is  where I’m deciding to put down roots.”

“What about Rooster?” Penny asked, “I know the two of you have a lot of talking to do, and nothing is decided, but you should remember one thing, Sweetheart… your roots can be attached to a person. Digging in and establishing your family and your people… that doesn’t mean they all have to be in the same location.”

“I was bounced back and forth from coast to coast growing up, Pen.” You said, “I know my family and my people were my roots then. I want physical roots now. I crave it. Besides, there’s no guarantee Bradley feels anything other than a deep friendship towards me. I know he loves me. But I don’t know if he loves me the same way that I love him.”

“He does.” Penny and Shay insisted.

“Trust me. I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you when you’re not looking.” Shay said, “It’s the same lovesick look you give him when he’s not looking.”

“She’s right.” Penny said. “Your dad noticed too, and surprisingly was OK with it.”

“Dad loves Bradley.” You said, “He just doesn’t know how to repair the bridge he nuked when he pulled his papers. Which is another issue… what do I do if the guy I love can never forgive my dad? That would make for super awkward family gatherings.”

“I think you’ll see things have a way of working out, Kiddo.” Penny said, smiling. “Just wait and see.”

_______________________

It was officially day 3 and still radio silence. You knew there was no guarantee that they’d be able to call or message from the carrier but you’d been hopeful.  

You drove to your hangar and decided to do maintenance and upkeep on your plane that wasn’t necessarily due yet, but it gave you something to do to keep busy.

By early afternoon you’d done everything you could possibly do. Your plane was in perfect condition and sparkling clean now.

You were locking everything up and getting ready to head to the Jeep when your phone dinged with a message.

Natasha: We’re back on the carrier. Be ready for a call from Mav, or Rooster…or Hangman. Possibly all 3? All good. :) Girls night… this weekend?

You: OMG I AM SO GLAD YOU ARE ALL OK! I was starting to get worried. Thank you for letting me know. Hoping it was uneventful and successful. YES to girls night.

Natasha: Successful…yes. Uneventful.. No. Going to get some sleep  now though. Adrenaline has crashed.

You: Oh Lord… there was crazy pilot shit. See you soon. Sweet Dreams.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. Just knowing everyone was alive and accounted for was a huge relief. You felt like you could take a deep breath for the first time since they left.

Your phone dinged again with a new message.

Shay: JAKE TEXTED! They’ll be home sometime tomorrow. Any word from Rooster or your dad?

You: Phoenix texted just now letting me know I’d be hearing from them. Everyone was good. Also, she asked about girl’s night this weekend?

Shay: I’m in!

You were happy things seemed to be going strong for her and Jake. You hoped it would continue even after Jake had to fly back to his permanent duty station.

Your phone rang as you got into the Jeep. Looking at the caller ID, you picked up immediately.

“Dad!” You exclaimed, “You’re ok? Not hurt at all?”

“Hey, Firecracker.” He said, “I’m fine. Little banged up, but fine. Just needed to hear your voice.”

“Phoenix texted a few minutes ago,” You said, “I think that was the first real breath I’ve taken since saying goodbye. Promise you’re really ok? Is Bradley ok too?”

“Hey, Sunshine.” Bradley said, “I’m ok. Potentially some new scars to add to the collection, nothing major. You Ok?”

“Wait… you’re with my dad?” You asked, trying to put the pieces together. “On speaker… so in the same room with my dad? And you’re both ok?”

“Long story, Firecracker.” Your dad chuckled, “We’ll talk tomorrow. I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too, Dad.” You replied, “Text me an ETA and I’ll be there to pick you.. Both… up? Unless Penny is coming for you.”

“I’ll text you. I have to call Penny quickly then get some sleep.” He replied, “See you soon, Firecracker.”

After hanging up with them, you sat in the Jeep, not moving. You were still trying to process what had just happened. Clearly the two had worked through something in the last 72 hours.

Your phone dinged again with another message.

Bradley: Hey, Sunshine. I need to grab a quick shower and eat… can I call you in a little bit?”

You: You can always call me, Bradley. I’m about to head back home now. I had a hot date.

Bradley: Oh. Sorry to interrupt. I can just see you when I get back…

You: With my plane… I had a hot date with my plane, Brad. lol ;)

Bradley: Sunshine, you are absolutely going to be the death of me.

You: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m innocent. Not my fault you misunderstood my hot date.

Bradley: I will call you soon ;) XO

______________________

Bradley’s POV

He smiled, setting his phone down on the small desk next to the bunks. He started to grab his stuff for the shower when there was a knock on the door.

“It’s open!” He yelled to whoever was knocking. He turned when the door opened and Maverick hesitantly stepped into the room.

“Hey, Rooster.” He said, “I’m on my way to dinner, was going to see if you wanted to join me. I think we should talk.”

“Hey” Bradley replied, “I was going to hit the shower before eating… but I guess it can wait until after…”

“I can wait to get food if you want to shower first.” Mav offered

“No, it’s ok.” he assured, “I’m actually pretty hungry so the shower can wait. I did promise Sunshine I’d call her once I’d showered and eaten though.”

“Things better with the two of you?” Mav asked, “At least heading in the right direction it seems.”

“We’re on the right path.” Bradley said, “I still owe her an honest explanation for why I was an asshole.”

“Why did you leave her behind?” Mav asked, “I understand you were angry at me, but I promise she had nothing to do with my actions, Bradley.”

“I know she didn’t” He said, “I always knew she wasn’t involved. I was angry and wasn’t equipped to deal with that much emotion. I was already in love with her at that point, Mav. I’ve probably always loved her to be honest… It just scared me. Everything I had always wanted was yanked out from under me and I self-destructed. I was a coward.”

“I’m really sorry Bradley” Mav said, “I owe you an honest explanation for pulling your papers. My daughter is pretty smart, and told me that it’s not up to me to gatekeep this information… I didn’t pull your papers because you weren’t ready, Rooster. I would have been proud as hell to watch you go through the Academy and follow in your dad’s footsteps. I would have been there cheering the loudest at graduation… well maybe not the loudest, Y/N would have been louder.”

“So why did you, Mav?” Bradley asked, feeling the emotions starting to well up inside of him again. Feelings he thought he’d long since buried, bubbled to the surface. “Why did you set me back, endanger the only career I’ve ever wanted?”

“Right before your mom died, she called me over while you and Y/N were at school.” Mav said, his eyes glassy with unshed tears,  “She had your Naval Academy application that you had filled out and was ready to send off in her hand. She looked at me with pure anguish in her eyes, Rooster. She begged me not to let you end up like your dad. She wanted you to live a full life. She was convinced you and Y/N would get married once you both got over your fear to admit to the other one you were in love…. But she made me promise to pull the papers so you wouldn’t go to the Academy. I tried to talk her out of it, assure her that what had happened to Goose wouldn’t happen to you. That you two idiots would realize you were in love and would marry and have kids and you’d have it all along with following your dreams. She was scared, Brad. Don’t let this change how you remember your mom. I’d rather you just keep hating me than that.  That’s why that spring, after you graduated, and I’d followed through on your mom’s wish… I lied and said I didn’t think you were ready. I made the decision to take on your anger and all of the blame. I couldn’t stand the idea of you being mad at your mom.”

“But if you really believed in me, Mav, then why not just tell my mom you’d pull the papers and give her the peace of mind… but then not pull the fucking papers?” Bradley asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Why did you actually follow through?”

“I got in my own head over the months between her passing away and your graduation.” he admitted, “For once, I overthought the situation… I started to doubt what I knew in my heart. I let that fear take over. I would watch you and Y/N together and then I would flash back to the accident with your dad and instead of holding him in the water, I was holding you. Instead of consoling your mom at a funeral, I was consoling Y/N. I let your mom’s fears take hold of my heart and I made a decision I thought was best… A decision that I know wasn't mine to make. I can’t take that back, Bradley. I can’t change the past. I am so sorry for what I did. I am sorry for hurting you. I am sorry for hurting Y/N.

“Did you choose me as your wingman because you felt bad and thought it would make up for it, or did you choose me because you believed I was the best for the job?” Bradley asked, needing to know.

“One of the last conversations I had with Ice was about the mission and what I should do.” Mav said, “By that point I had a pretty good idea who I thought would be best flying the mission. I knew the risks of the mission. I told him I was scared. If I didn’t choose you for the mission, in order to keep you safe, I knew there was no way you’d ever forgive me. If I chose you because I knew you were a damn good pilot, and you didn’t come home, I knew I’d never forgive myself. In the end, I chose you as my wingman because there was nobody else I trusted more to have my back, Bradley. Your dad would have been incredibly proud of the man you’ve become. He’d be proud of the aviator you’ve become. Never doubt that.”

Unable to stop the tears from falling at that point, Bradley hastily wiped them from his face, clenching his jaw  and breathing through his nose to get himself in check.

“Thank you, Mav.” He said once he finally trusted his voice, “Thanks for being honest with me. Thanks for not washing me out when you saw my name on the list of pilots called back to Top Gun.”

“You should know that one of the first things Y/N said to me… granted it was via text because she wasn’t actually speaking to me yet…” Mav said, a small smile forming on his lips, “Was to make me promise to give you a fair shot. Not to wash you out. She said the fact that you’d graduated top of your class and was called back meant you were damn good at what you did. She was pretty adamant actually. There’s a reason I’ve always called her my Firecracker, I guess.”

“God, I fucking love that girl, Mav.” Bradley admitted, surprising Mav. Not because he didn’t already know Bradley had  been in love with his daughter since they were kids, but because he was actually admitting it outloud to him of all people.

“Does she know that?” Mav asked, “And what do you plan on doing about it?”

“She knows I love her.” Bradley said, “But I don’t know if she knows I’m in love with her. I don’t think she knows she’s always been the one. I definitely didn’t do a great job of making her feel loved when we first saw one another after a decade of radio silence. I definitely owe her a lot of groveling.”

“I just got my daughter back, Bradley.” Mav said, “But she’s never not been my little girl. She’s always been the center of my world, even when I did a lousy job at making sure she knew she was. Word of advice… don’t make that mistake. She deserves more than having someone put her second. She��s had enough of that in her life. She deserves to be first….and to know beyond a shadow of a doubt she’s loved. If you can’t do that for her… if you’re going to break her heart again… I’m asking you to please just walk away now.”

“I don’t think I can live a life without her in it anymore, Mav.” Bradley said, “I can’t live in a world without my Sunshine. I want forever with her. I want the dream my mom saw for us… I want to marry Y/N, spend the rest of my life with her, raise kids with her… maybe get a dog. Is that… OK with you?”

“Bradley, I would be honored to call you my son. You’re probably the only man I’d ever deem worthy of my Firecracker if we’re being honest.” Mav confided, smirking, “But, it’s not up to me. My daughter can be hard headed and she definitely knows her own mind. You have my blessing though if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Thank you.” Bradley replied, “It means a lot. In the interest of full disclosure though, I planned to move Heaven and Earth and spend the rest of my life groveling with her to marry me regardless.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Mav laughed. “You’ve never let anything stop you, kid. I doubt you’d start now.”

Mav pulled Bradley into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

“Come on, you’ve got a girl to call.” Mav said, “Let’s get you fed so you can shower and call Y/N.”

_____________________________

Your POV

You quickly drove home, stopping only to grab a late lunch from In and Out Burger. Pulling into the driveway, you parked the Jeep and headed into the house with your food.

The house was almost too quiet without having your aunt and uncle and the kids around. In a way you thought it would be better to get your own place, because it might be quiet but there wouldn’t be all the memories haunting you at every turn.

While you waited for Bradley to call, you ate your lunch and scrolled through more rental listings to see what else you could find.

A notification of a text popped up on your phone from Jake.

Jake: Hey, Sweets! Missing your favorite aviator yet?

You: I just talked to him about an hour ago actually, but I'm looking forward to seeing my dad tomorrow.

Jake: Ouch. Fair… but ouch.

You: You’re in my top 5… that help?

Jake: I’m not even SECOND??

You: Sorry, Jakey. Lol How did it go? Are you good?

Jake: I’m always good, Sweets! It was a success. How are you doing? I know it was shitty timing for the mission to happen.

You: I’m ok. It’s really quiet here and that sucks. But… I’m ok. I’m actually thinking about renting my own place.

Jake: Understandable. I promise to bring a little noise back tomorrow. Renting huh? Need a roomie?

You: You talk a big game, my favorite word puzzle… but you’re a big softy <3  Aren’t you attached to another squadron in another time zone?

Jake: Shhh! That’s classified information. At least I’m your favorite SOMETHING! And no stations are actually permanent… I’ve earned some favors.

You: Well… Shay will be super excited to hear that. Wouldn’t you want to be roomies with her?

Jake: Idea. We get a giant ass house and we all live together.

You: We’d be evicted from the neighborhood in no time.

Jake: You’re no fun.

You: I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake. Go get some food and sleep.

Jake: No bedtime hugs?

You: You’re a menace. I’ll hug you tomorrow.

Your phone rang a short time after, Bradey’s name popping up on the screen.

“Hey, Sunshine” he said as soon as you answered. He sounded exhausted.

“You sound ready to crash.” You said, “Feel a little better after your shower and dinner?”

“A little.” He said, “I am actually already in the bunk. I just really needed to hear your voice.”

“I’m right here.” You said, “I’ll talk to you as long as you need me to. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather tell you in person.” He said, yawning. “What have you been up to?

“Roo you’re exhausted, honey.” You said gently, “You need to sleep so you can fly back home tomorrow.”

“You’ve never used my callsign…or shortened version…” He said, softly, “I like it.

“Do you want me to call you Rooster?” You asked, amused.

“Not Rooster… I like Roo. Or when you use my name.” He clarified, “I don’t get called Brad or Bradley by many people. Kinda liked ‘honey’ too.”

“Ok, Bradley Roo Honey,” You teased, “I think it’s time for someone to get some sleep.”

“You’re a minx.” He chuckled, “Talk to me until I fall asleep? Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Frank had a couple of charters for me that kept me occupied.” You said, “One was great but the other… They were horrible. I almost decided to practice my barrel rolls. I figured it was too early into this charter job to have clients puking all over the plane and complaining.”

“You really are a little Mav sometimes, Sunshine” He laughed, quietly, “What else did you do?”

“Well, I met Shay and Penny for lunch the first day, then last night met Shay at the Hard Deck for drinks. I think things are headed down the serious path between her and Jake. It’s sweet.”

“There’s more to Hangman than meets the eye.” Bradley replied, “He’s not actually a complete asshole.”

“I knew that ten seconds into meeting him.” You laughed. “Saw right through him.”

“That’s because you’re literally lightness, my Sunshine.” He replied softly, his voice sounding more groggy. “You see the good that others miss.”

“There’s no missing the good in you, Brad.” You assure him. “It’s right there on display for the world to see.”

“Even when I’m a complete asshole that destroyed everything and hurt the most important person in my life?” He asked.

“Even then.” You affirmed, “But you’re wrong. You didn’t destroy anything. Just got banged up a bit. Little bruised.”

“Promise?” He asked, his voice barely audible now. He was close to sleep.

“I promise, Roo.” You whispered, “Let yourself go to sleep. I will be right here waiting for you tomorrow.”

“Love you” he mumbled. You weren’t sure if he was even completely conscious. You waited, listening to him breathe until it evened out, gentle snores sounding through the phone.

“Goodnight, Roo.” You whispered, quietly, “I love you.”  Smiling, you hung up the phone. You couldn’t wait for him to be back on North Island. You finally felt like you had your footing.

After cleaning up your lunch wrappers, you decided to take your laptop outside on the back patio to enjoy the sun while you searched through more rentals. On your way out, a picture on one of the side tables to the couch caught your eye. It was of you and your Uncle, you were 6 years old and sitting on his shoulders next to his jet. You had on his aviator sunglasses with a huge cheesy grin. He was smiling, looking up at you. You were missing your front teeth. You vaguely remembered those had fallen out while you’d been staying with them. Aunt Sarah had played tooth fairy.  You smiled at the memory. You felt your heart clench and tears form in your eyes.

“I miss you so much, Uncle Tommy.” You whispered, “I half expect you to walk through the door at any moment or call me with some funny story. You were right… as always… you knew what you were doing by maneuvering everyone into place. Well played, Uncle Ice. Well played.”

You wiped the tears that had slipped free from your eyes, and continued out into the warm Southern California sunshine.

______________________________________________

The next morning, you were making breakfast when your phone rang.

“Good morning, Roo.” You said, smiling, “All rested?”

“Hi, Sunshine.” He replied, “I am all rested. Falling asleep with you could become addicting.”

“I’m glad you were able to get some sleep.” You said, “Any word on when you’re heading home?”

“The rest of the Dagger team are already off ship en route back to North Island.” He said. “Mav and I…well we are waiting on transport…”

“Is something wrong with your jets?” You asked, “They need maintenance?”

“Umm. You could say that.” He hedged, “In the sense that both are… in pieces…probably have some fire damage… extra ventilation…no longer flyable.”

“Bradley Bradshaw” You said, “Are your jets on the carrier?”

“No… they are not.” He said, “We had to….borrow a jet to get back to the carrier.”

“Ok, so can’t you fly that one home?” You asked.

“No…” he answered, “That one is also out of commission.”

“What happened to that one?” You asked.

“It has no landing gear. Down an engine… and the bottom is now toast from the…rough landing.” He replied.

“Jesus, Bradley!” You exclaimed, “What the actual fuck HAPPENED?”

“We’re both obviously ok…” he said, “So don’t panic… and I was hoping to tell you in person but forgot we’d have to find a ride off the carrier and you’d get suspicious..”

“BRADLEY!” You exclaimed, interrupting his rambling.

“I got missile locked from a SAM and was about to get hit and Mav intercepted but was shot down in the process and we were ordered to return to the carrier because everyone said he was gone. We couldn’t see his chute… but I may have disobeyed orders and circled back for him. I found him and shot  down a chopper that had him pinned, but then I ended up getting shot down so had to punch out too. Mav found me, and yelled at me…. But then we found the base and landing strip we’d just blown up and saw an f-14, so borrowed that.” He took a breath, but then at your silence decided to keep going. “Mav managed to get it in the air, he really does do crazy pilot shit and it works… we were doing ok but then got intercepted by enemy fighters. We did pretty good holding our own in the dogfight but ran out of all ammunition. I was supposed to punch out again  but the canopy was jammed. Then Hangman came through, shooting down the other guy, and saved our asses. Now we’re back on the carrier about to come home to you!”

“YOU BOTH GOT SHOT DOWN????” you yelled, “What part of STAY SAFE and COME BACK TO ME wasn’t clear?”

“I’m sorry, Sunshine.” He said, “I couldn’t come home without trying to find your dad for you.”

“But I almost lost both of you!” You replied, trying to wrap your head around that.

“But you didn’t.” He reminded you, “I’m here. Your dad is here. As soon as our damn ride out of here arrives we’ll be there with you.”

You heard voices in the background muffled. Then Bradley must have put his phone on speaker.

“Hey Firecracker.” Your dad said, “Our ride just arrived so we’ll be wheels up in about 20 minutes. Can you be on base in about 5 hours?”

“Hi, Dad.” You replied, “I will be there. You’re in so much trouble.”

“Rooster filled you in then?” He asked, “We had it all under control, Baby Girl. All part of the plan.”

“SO. Much. Trouble.” You emphasized.

“But, Sunshine…” Bradley said, “It ended up fine and Mav and I are even on solid ground now… that’s a good thing, right?”

“You are not getting out of this easily. NEITHER of you are.” You promised. “I love you both. Try not to crash your ride home.”

“Love you too, Firecracker.” Your dad chuckled.

“Love you, Sunshine.” Bradley said, “See you soon.”

After hanging up, you let out a sigh, knowing you would have your hands full with those two.

“Uncle Tommy you have your work cut out for you” You chuckled, “Those two need extra guardian angels. You may need to enlist Goose to help.”

You spent the morning driving around to look at a few more rentals but were still leaning towards the cute yellow house by Imperial Beach that you’d looked at already. You decided to make a pro and con list for the top 3 rentals you liked and you’d decide that way. You knew they’d probably rent out quickly so you would have to decide something fast.

You called your Aunt Sarah and let her know your dad would be back that evening and checked in to see how they were doing. You let her know you were looking at rentals and of course she reminded you this was your home as long as you needed or wanted. The kids were enjoying time with their cousins and it helped to keep their mind off the pain of missing their dad…at least temporarily.

You were just about to figure out what you wanted to do for lunch when your phone rang.

“Sweets!” Jake exclaimed when you answered the phone. “Where are ya at?”

“Hey, Jake.” You laughed, “I’m home, about to decide what I want for lunch. Where are you?”

“Great! Shay took the day off and we’re picking up food. We’ll be there in 15!” He announced.

“Guess that means you’re home.” You replied, laughing at his enthusiasm. “Come on over.”

In no time, Jake and Shay had arrived with take out from the Mexican restaurant that you and Shay had eaten at together.

As soon as Jake had set the food down and his hands were free, you hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, Jakey.” You whispered.

“You’re welcome.” He replied, hugging you back just as tightly.  “It’s just lunch, Sweets.”

“You saved my dad and Bradley’s life.” You said, pulling your head back to look into his shining, sea green eyes.

“I promised we’d all be safe.” He said, struggling to accept the praise. He put on a good act of being cocky and almost arrogant but underneath it all, he was always just trying to measure up. To feel like he was ‘as good’. It wasn’t about being better. “I didn’t want you to lose anyone else.”

“You are an amazing friend, Jake Seresin.” You answered simply, “And an amazing person in general. I will throw down with anyone who suggests otherwise. Even you. So no more calling my friend an asshole.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replies, grinning, “You gonna throw down with my old man too? Coz’ Sweets, my money is on you.”

“I sure as hell will!” You exclaimed, stepping back and grabbing plates for everyone. “Screw him. You’re my family now, and I’m yours.”

“So does anyone want to fill me in on what the hell happened on this mission?” Shay asked, “Clearly it didn’t go according to plan.”

Jake filled in the details he could, leaving out anything classified. It was pretty much the same story Bradley told you.

“So they stole a whole ass f-14?” She asked, shocked.

“Yup.” You said, “I informed both of them that they’re in so  much trouble.”

“What time do you need to be there to get them?” Jake asked, “I can go with you so you don’t have problems getting onto base.”

“They said 5 hours.” You said, “That was at 9 so I guess I’ll plan on going around 1:30 so that I’m there when they get there. I planned on taking the Bronco.”

“Ok, I can meet you at the entrance and get you onto base.” He said, then turned to Shay, “Then after,  I’ll head back to your apartment if that’s ok?”

“Yeah, of course.” She replied, “Do we all want to get together tomorrow night at the Hard Deck to celebrate?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Jake replied, “We will be ready to let loose by then. I’ll let everyone know.”

“How long before you all get sent back to your other squadrons?” You asked, sad at the idea of all of your new friends being scattered around the globe.

“I don’t know yet.” He replied, sighing. “At the very least, I think we’ve all earned some leave time… need some R&R.”

“I agree.” You said, “You’ve definitely earned a vacation.”

Conversion flowed while the three of you devoured your lunches. You told them about the rentals you were looking at, Jake insisted you needed a roomie/bodyguard. You told him you’d take it under advisement.  

After lunch, they headed out, Jake telling you he’d text when he was on his way to base.

You decided to shower and change into cutoff jean shorts, a navy blue v-neck t-shirt, the front tucked in a bit, and white converse sneakers. You opted to leave your hair down, just taming the waves a bit.

By the time you were done getting ready, it was time to head out so you’d be on base when they got home.

Jake: Leaving Shay’s now. It’s about a 15 min drive as long as I don’t hit traffic.

You: Ok! I’ll meet you there. Thanks for doing this Jake.

Jake: Sweets, you need to stop thanking me all the time ;) You already claimed me as family, remember? It’s what we do.

You: XOXO

You pulled the Bronco onto base and saw that Jake’s truck was already at the entry gate, waiting on you. Seeing you pull in, he pulled ahead to the gate and flashed his ID. You could see him talking to the guard and pointing back to you. The rail by the guard shelter lifted and Jake drove through, the guard motioning for you to follow.

Jake led you to a different area than where you’d see them off at and parked the truck. You pulled next to him, putting the Bronco in park and turning it off.

“They should be coming out over there.” He said pointing to a building beyond the gate in front of you. “I imagine they’ll be landing shortly, if they haven’t already. I’m surprised Penny isn’t here.”

“I have a feeling I will be dropping dad off the Hard Deck.” You said. “So…you and Shay?”

“Is it weird that I’m actually looking at what I’d need to do to transfer to North Island?” He asked, glancing over at you. “I mean I know it’s really early…less than a month.”

“Have you ever entertained changing duty stations for someone before?” You asked, “Ever consider rerouting your life for someone?”

“No.” he replied, “I’ve been career driven since day 1. All of my decisions were based on what was best for me or my career and moving forward.”

“But this thing with Shay… it’s different?” You pressed.

“So different.” He replied. “So… good. I feel like I can just be me, and I am  good enough.”

“Then there’s your answer.” You said, “But I really wanna know who made you think you were less than, not good enough, or worthy. Because I fully intend on punching them straight in their damn throat.”

“I don’t know how I got so lucky to have met you and to have you on my side, Sweets, but you’re my person now.” He said pulling you into a side hug. “No take backs.”

“I accept the responsibility 100%.” You laughed “You’re worth holding onto. Besides, I always wanted a brother.”

“Done.” He said, “You’ve got one now. For what it’s worth, you’re worth holding onto too, Y/N.”

He dropped a kiss on top of your head before you both turned back to watch for  Mav and Bradley to come out.

“So, back to our conversation from yesterday… need a roomie?” He asked, laughing.

“Guess that depends on if you get that transfer, Jakey.” You teased, batting you lashes at him, playfully. “And which of the rentals I end up going with.”

“Pick the one with extra room for your new fave aviator.” He said.

“You’re top 4.” You replied, winking, then, seeing two familiar figures leave the building walking towards you, squealed “Here they come!”

“It’s weird seeing them get along.” Jake chuckled, stepping forward to open the gate, “Come on, they’re taking too long.”

“I can go in?” You asked, not wanting to be in trouble, but desperately wanting to get to them.

“Go. I’ll cover you.” he said, winking. You didn’t need any more encouragement. You took off running towards them.

Bradley, seeing you barrel towards them, dropped his flight bag and opened his arms up. He caught you as you launched yourself into his arms. You buried your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in as you clung to him like a koala bear. He held you tightly against him, in no hurry to have you detach yourself.

“That’s one hell of a welcome home, Sunshine.” He said, “I’m so damn glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you too.” You replied, “I might have missed you… a little.”

“So this is what I’m reduced to huh?” Mav smirked at the pair of you, “I’m now just second best?”

“Don’t feel bad, at least I’m pretty sure you’re top 2.” Jake said, joining, “Best I can get from her is top 4.”

Bradley, reluctantly set you down, knowing you wanted to greet your dad. You immediately went into his outstretched arms, hugging him as if your life depended on it.

“I love you, Dad.” You whispered.

“I love you too, Firecracker.” He replied, holding you tightly. Looking over your shoulder he said, “Thanks for helping her get back here, Hangman.”

“No problem, Pops Mav.” He answered, bravely.

“Excuse me?” Your dad asked, raising an eyebrow at Jake. You laughed, stepping back to look at Jake.

“I adopted him, Dad.” You explained, “He’s my new brother. You’re welcome.”

“I’m being punished…” He said, “This is what you mean by big trouble?”

“Nope” you said, popping the ‘p’. “This is just an added bonus. He saved your life, he’s ours now.” Without warning you slapped both your dad and Bradley on their arms, “But seriously, WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU BOTH THINKING?”

“OW!” Bradley yelped, rubbing his arm, “Your dad told me not to think. This is technically his fault.”

“Hey!” Mav replied, playfully glaring at Bradley, “I saved your  life! You could at least not throw me under the bus with my kid.”

“I saved your life back, and Sunshine kinda scares me…” Bradley replied.

“Well I saved both of your lives and gained my second confirmed air to air kill in the process.” Jake added, “So… I think that means I win.”

“And yet, still so humble.” Mav grumbled. “Let’s get out of here. I have a lady to see.”

“I’m heading in that direction if you want a lift. Shay’s apartment is not far from the Hard Deck…or Penny’s.” Jake offered to Mav. He knew you and Bradley had some talking to do and probably wanted some time.

“That’d be great, Jake, thank you.” Your dad replied, then turned to you and Bradley, “Firecracker, I love you. Come by the hangar tomorrow…both of you.”

“We will.” Bradley said, reaching his hand out to Mav. Instead of shaking the younger aviator’s hand, Mav pulled him into a hug. To your shock and delight, Bradley returned the hug.

A/N: We’re getting there!!! Bradley and Mav finally had a LONG overdue talk! Bradley and Sunshine are next!!! We’re getting there!!!! Thoughts?? 

Taglist:  @gracespicybradshaw​ @memoriesat30​, @khaylin27​, @snekssss, @shanimallina87​ @atarmychick007​  @jstarr86​  @marantha​  @taytaylala12​ @theweekndhistorybook​ @happylittlereader​ @hobiismyhopeu​ @krismdavis​

[tanthamoretober]

Here you go friends, the final round up of all the fics written for the nsfw prompts in the last chunk of Tanthamoretober.

See them all in the Tanthamoretober collection on AO3.

Multi day prompts:

Days 8, 10, 27, 28 & 29: Voyeurism, Magic, Mirror Sex, Dom/sub play, Long distance, Full Moon

Nymph Butter by TheArcher Rating: Explicit Summary: Graydon and Boorman are starting to get down to business when they find they have an unexpected guest spying on them. Graydon continues to choose the most inopportune moments to try and find out how Elora feels about him. Part 2 of Harvest Festival

Days 6 & 28: Biting, light masochism

a halo, a waiting room by myrebelliousphase Rating: Mature Summary: Jade opens her eyes, and for a second, they’re that familiar cognizant hazel. “Thank you,” she says gently as her pupils bleed inky black into her irises. Her eyelashes flutter, and when she speaks again, it’s with the same strain as before. “Ready?”

Part 1 of oh baby, can you hear me moan?

Days 8 & 21: Public sex/voyeurism and wet

feeling good by Anarik Rating: Explicit Summary: Meet me at 7:30 at the back of your house? K. Continuation of Festival Ideas (also appears under the prompts ‘festival’)

Days 4, 6 & 27: Face sitting, Biting, Dominant/submissive

Lightning Strike by TheArcher Rating: Explicit Summary: Direct Sequel to Nymph Butter.

Elora’s scrying spell dissipated before her eyes and she was alone in the grove. The air was cold outside but inside she was burning up. She couldn't tell what she wanted more: to have the confidence and strength Graydon had shown or to be the one beneath him, following his demands.

What was she doing? She couldn't be touching herself among the trees. Not when she had a private room and a fiancé. Part 3 of Harvest Festival

Day 25 & 26: Leather & lingerie

Make Me A Saddle by Silver85 Rating: Mature Summary: Did you know Jade leatherworks? Neither did Kit. Part 19 of Loving Me Loving You, (AWOOOO)

Day 1: First time

First Time by slvershdws Rating: Mature Summary: Well, they waited long enough, didn't they?  Part 2 of Endearing Idiots (sequel to My Own Kind of Light)

Day 21: Wet

Salad by sofys37 Rating: Mature Summary: Lili gets caught off guard, she didn’t see Jade coming but she recovers and smiles. “I only take appointments in my office, you can come back tomorrow when we are open.”

“Oh, it’s ok, I’m not here for an appointment.” Jade gets a glock she had in the pocket of her hoodie and smiles. “I’m here to kill you, bitch!”

(also appears under the prompts ‘something in the woods’ and ‘fireside’)

darling it's better by Geek_and_Nina for lowkeyed1 Rating: General Summary: fast forward to when they're a little more used to this odd predicament and a little more romantically inclined Part 3 of The Laughing Whale

Day 22: Roughness/Anger

seeing stars by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Explicit Summary: that thing Jade found comes up and it's wonderful and then other wonderful things happen Part 22 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompts ‘kissing in the rain’ and ‘found footage’)

Day 23: Softness/Tenderness

The Architect of Catastrophe, chapter 25: Forever With You, My Darling by Silver85

Rating: Explicit Summary: A surprise extended epilogue for Tanthamoretober. This is a prompt fill for kissing in the rain and soft/tenderness.

Day 24: Roleplay

The Big Bad Wolf by Silver85 Rating: Explicit Summary: There's something about being chased by a werewolf in the woods. There's something else about being caught by one.

Part 17 of Loving Me Loving You, (AWOOOO)

Zombie Crack: Night of the Living Dental Dam by lowkeyed1 Rating: Teen and up Summary: Jade and Kit try a little Halloween roleplay… Part 1 of Tanthamoretober Crack Fics (also appears under prompts ‘cemetery’ and ’creepy setting’)

once more with feeling by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Teen and up Summary: kit and jade go on a stupid walk for their stupid mental health Part 24 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompts ‘creepy setting’’ and ‘cemetery’)

Day 25: Leather

Halloween Crack: Kiss of the Cat Woman by lowkeyed1 Rating: Teen and up Summary: Kit and Jade are on their way to a Halloween party when their car breaks down… Part 2 of Tanthamoretober Crack Fics (also appears under prompts ‘black cat’ and 'I’ll be right back”)

leather lips and lights by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Explicit Summary: jade has a revenge plan for kit's teasing while she was on her conference but it really didn't go the way she planned Part 25 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompts and ‘black cat’ and ‘I’ll be right back’)

Day 26: Lingerie

Funhouse Crack: Mirror Maze by lowkeyed1

Rating: Teen and up Summary: Jade and Kit go on their first date. On Halloween. To the carnival Part 3 of Tanthamoretober Crack Fics (also appears under the prompts ‘dead-end’ and ‘mirrors’)

vengeance by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Explicit Summary: day after the bathtub fic! when i tell you jade got home as fast as possible Part 26 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompts ‘mirrors’ and 'dead end’)

Day 27: Dominance/Submission

The List by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Explicit Summary: definitely not making fun of acre's naming protocols jade is on a trip and she leaves a list

Part 27 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompts ‘underneath the sky’ and ‘campfire stories’)

Day 28: Sadism/Masochism

wake up by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Explicit Summary: kit makes jade watch movies again, but she keeps falling asleep and jade keeps her awake very different from their last movie binge... but also not different at all Part 28 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompts ‘came back wrong’ and ‘full moon’)

Werewolf Crack: A Galladoornian Werewolf in Tir Asleen by lowkeyed1 Rating: Teen and up Summary: Boorman and Graydon were all set to have a little fun in the woods -- until the full moons rose Part 5 of Tanthamoretober Crack Fics (also appears under the prompts ‘came back wrong’ and ‘full moon’)

Day 29: Long Distance

Little Shop Crack: Mean Orange Bad by lowkeyed1 for LuckypupsMama Rating: Teen and up Summary: Graydon Krelborn is working at Mr. Willownik's flower shop, when he finds a strange and unusual pumpkin plant… Part 6 of Tanthamoretober Crack Fics (also appears under the prompts ‘carving jack o’lanterns’ and ‘cult’)

pumpkins by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Teen and up Summary: kit and jade are moving in together two years ago there's a whoopsie Part 29 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompts ‘carving jack o’lanterns’ and ‘cult’)

Day 30: Nipple Play

Costume Party Crack: Children of the Corn Cob by lowkeyed1 Rating: Teen and up Summary: Airk and Kit wear a costume to Boorman's party that Airk regrets, at first… Part 7 of Tanthamoretober Crack Fics (Also appears under the prompts ‘horror movies’ and ‘costume party’)

lost in wanting her to win by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Explicit Summary: kit and jade have some fun at gray's party Part 30 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompts ‘horror movies’ and ‘costume party’)

Day 31: Sensation Play

Corny Crack: Children of the Corn Cob II: The Final Crack by lowkeyed1 for GravityAlex Rating: Explicit Summary: Elora and Airk had so much fun at Boorman's party, they decide to meet up again… Part 8 of Tanthamoretober Crack Fics (also appears under the prompts ‘trick or treat’ and ‘something in the woods’)

peace by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Explicit Summary: A wedding Part 31 of Show Don't Tell (also appears under the prompt ‘something in the woods’)

Thank you to everyone who joined in, and this includes readers. Readers are vital to this whole deal!

So, readers, since it's Never Not Commenting November now, go wild on these!

[picnokinesis]

Do you read/reread your own fics? Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why? Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

Oh my days these are such cool questions!! Hang on let me answer each one separately!

Do you read/reread your own fics? Yes!! The author has good taste in tropes and has the exact same headcanons as me HAHAHA - but seriously, yes I do! I think a lot of authors do this, because fundamentally I write ideas that I want to see, so yeah I definitely read my own stories. I quite often end up rereading chapters of things if someone comments on that chapter a long while after it posted (like with campervan for example), and this usually happens because I'm trying to remember exactly what happened in the chapter that the comment is talking about haha, but then I often sort of go 'oh hey, this is actually decent writing' SKKSKS which is a nice surprise. Or I find a horrendous typo that somehow myself and my beta managed to miss hahaha

Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? I think recently the fic that surprised me the most in terms of response was Translation Notes, simply because I was just not expecting that many people to read it HAHA - like, I feel like around when I posted it, it felt like things were pretty quiet in the thirteen side of the fandom, so it was just really exciting to get lots of people comment and react to the fic that I hadn't seen before! And I had a bunch of people talking about how they used to be really into Gallifreyan conlangs and just getting excited about what I'd done, which was just really lovely but also surprised me! The other one that has surprised me is Campervan AU as a whole, because when you think about it, it's actually a very specific and niche au haha, it's like human au, investigative journalist au, oh but there's amnesia too etc. etc. so I did genuinely think that not that many people would read it. The response to part 1 absolutely blew me away. And then, since then it's been amazing!! I think the response to part 6 in particular also blew my mind a bit because I didn't know how many people would still be interested in an au that started back in 2020 hahaha, but so many people showed up and commented, which was AMAZING <3 And the fact that people are still finding and binging their way through this series also boggles my mind hahaha like how!? Also it's so long at this point SKSKSK LIKE?? But it's so awesome <3

Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours labouring over it? If so, why? Yeah lol. One time I cut out an entire 3k word section - and I'm glad that I did because it wasn't working, and it meant that I was writing myself into a corner, and just getting stuck. Sometimes you have to be brutal - though, I will say, I very rarely fully delete stuff. I always prefer 'cryofreeze your darlings' over 'kill your darlings', and so I have a 'deleted bits' document for all my fics which means that I can always go back and pinch good sentences if need be.

Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing? Not always! I usually have a rough idea of where I'm heading, but sometimes I'm just along for the ride to see what happens. With my recent fic Disarmed, for example, I knew where I wanted to end up at the end of chapter 5 (which is the main climax of the story - chapter 6 is more of a very long epilogue haha), but I didn't know the ins and outs of how I was going to get there. And, actually, it turned out that a rant the Doctor had off-hand back in chapter 3 was actually crucial to the plot, which I had no idea about at the time when I wrote it HAHA but the further in I got, the more I was like 'wait.......she was talking about xyz thing which is actually important!!'. I think the best example of a fic where I had NO idea what was going on as I wrote it is probably but mirrors don't lie (there's no other side), which is one that I'm so fond of because I really felt like I was discovering the story as it went along. All I knew about the 'ending' was the little flash memory that keeps showing up throughout - that was IT. I had no idea how things ended up there or what was going to happen. I was along for the ride as much as the characters were hahaha. With stuff like Campervan AU, it tends to be more that I know less about what's going to happen, and a lot more about what has happened - so, I know exactly what happened in the backstory, and how that's going to impact everything, and I know what's going on around the main plot (for the most part). But the plot itself? More of a mystery. Keeps it more fun, that way. Although, of course, I do have the guide-rope of the actual episode that each story is based off when it comes to this one, which helps as well to keep me on track.

Thank you so much for the ask!! These are such awesome questions!! :D

[tetsunabouquet]

Alright, I just had a few rough days, so whilst I'm contuining with writing for a request I can hopefully complete and post today, I though to myself to re-post my writing schedule so that new followers of my blog know a bit of when to expect my posts. My schedule goes as following: Headcanon (either requested or one I wanted to make) Potentially TWP Story, wether a continuation of something, a drabble, anything (either requested or one I wanted to make) Potentially TWP Headcanon (either requested or one I wanted to make) Potentially TWP Basic Instinct TWP -Rinse & Repeat 1st Note: When it comes to TWP, there are still certain parts I need to write about Book 1, and there's a huge editing process behind it due to Tumblr's word limit. In the document folder I write TWP in, even if I try to keep the Tumblr word limit in mind, there are the occasional instances where I do end up exceeding the word limit and then I have to start making clever editing choices. So that is why there's only one TWP update guaranteed after Basic Instinct, but if I feel like it I'll drop it in between my scheduled releases. 2nd Note: I will update this in the future. To my non-KNB followers, Basic Instinct is my most popular KNB fanfic. However, stories have obstacles and the ending generally always comes after the biggest obstacle id resolved. With Basic Instinct, I'm currently in the process of writing the biggest obstacle. Yes you heard it right, my precious Basic Instinct fans. The end is somewhat in sight, as after I wrapped the whole running away plot, I'll write the ending and a few epilogue chapters. If those get more then 5 likes each, I'll also release a bonus with fluffy snippets of Akashi and the reader throughout their relationships. But that will truly be the end. It won't change TWP's schedule, but when Basic Instinct is over I will dedicate that slot to a new series. I have a few potential ideas including one I already talked about before, and I will hold a poll to let you guys pick which one you want.

[rose-pearls]

Childhood infatuation - Thunder

Summary: Jake Seresin came into your life and showed you what love was all about and you aren't the only one to realise that Jake is the one.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Epilogue

She had never expected to fall in love with someone after what happened with Rooster. They hadn’t been together, but her confidence was shattered, and she didn’t know if someone would be able to love her. Her family had always been there, but she wanted to have the kind of love that Ice and Mav had or her parents. 

Love came at the most unexpected moment in the form of Jake Seresin, she had heard a lot of things about him but to her surprise he didn’t leave her hanging in the sky like she expected him to. The cocky pilot had asked her on a date and Thunder didn’t know what to do, she was scared that this was all a joke, and that the handsome blond didn’t really like her. But that boy proved her wrong in every single way.

Their first date had been a breath of fresh air after Top Gun training, the dinner he had taken her was small but felt like home. He spent the night making her laugh and blush at his flirty remarks. Jake managed to break down all of her barriers in just one night and every day that followed after that. 

She had expected him to do everything in his power to win Top Gun, because she knew he wanted to prove himself, prove to his family that he was enough. Behind that cocky façade she had seen the broken boy trying to please his father, who seemed to never think he was enough. Thunder remembers holding him close to her while he broke down after a particular harsh phone call. 

“I’m sorry.”, he had whispered so softly that she had nearly not heard it, but he was wrapped in her arms, so she caught the quiet words.

“Why are you sorry Jake?”, she let go of him to look into his green eyes that always managed to pull her in, he sniffed softly, and she took his cheeks softly trying to reassure him.

“You deserve better than this, I’m a mess.”, she couldn’t believe what he was saying, that man that had been by her side through rough patches, had listened to her story and reassured her that she was worth far more than she thought was telling her that he wasn’t worth it. 

“Jake listen to me.”, she made him look into her eyes and she could see tears forming in his eyes.

“You are not a mess, do you understand? You are the man that showed me how worth it love is, letting your guard down even though it could hurt you so much. Sure, you are cocky, but you can back it up goddamnit.”, Jake lets out a teary laugh and she brings his forehead against hers.

“You are so much more than you think you are, and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you by my side. I love you, Jake Seresin.”, the pilot looked surprised at her words, but a tender smile appeared on his lips.

“I love you too.”, she feels her heart explodes in her chest of love that she feels for this man.

“I’ll love you through the hard times and through the easy ones, and I’ll be by your side and there to support you through every single thing in your life. I’m so proud of you Jake. And maybe your family can’t see it now, but I’ll make sure that everyone can see the amazing man that you are.”, Jake choked on a sob before bringing her closer to him, letting the words settle in his mind.

Meeting her family after that night seemed like the logical step to take, she could see that he was stressed at the idea, but she could see that he was excited. The barbecue had been better than she expected even with the age-old tension between Jake and Bradley. She never understood what had the two boys in such a disagreement, but she hoped that they could mend fences.

She was looking at Jake talking with her father and her uncles about a certain move that he had seen, and she couldn’t stop smiling at the sight.

“He looks like he’s fitting right in.”, she chuckled at Rooster’s words before looking at him, he had a tense smile.

“He is, I’m glad.”, she can’t help but look back at Jake with a bright grin not seeing Rooster looking at her with sad eyes.

“Are you alright? You seemed in a trance.”, Bradley clears his throat but it’s like the words were stuck in his throat the moment he saw her look back towards Hangman.

“Yeah, just glad to see you so happy.”, a blush formed on her cheeks and Bradley wanted to trail his fingers over it but stopped himself.

“I am happy, I didn’t expect to meet someone at Top Gun you know?”, Bradley nods and she has a shy smile. 

“But he came into my life like a flash of thunder and now I don’t know what I would do without him.”, she is looking at Jake again who seems to have seen them together and is frowning before flashing them a big grin. 

“You deserve this, having the fairy tale ending.”, she laughs at his words and Bradley wants to make her laugh again, see her bright smile, and hear her joyful laughter.

“You said you wanted to talk to me.”, she is looking at him with worried eyes and Bradley had been ready to tell her that he loves her, that he probably has since a long time but only realized it recently.

“Oh, yeah that – it’s not important, in fact I forgot about it.”, she shakes her head chuckling and looking at him with a fond smile. 

“I think he needs you to save him from a long conversation with your father.”, she looks alarmed at the sight of her father going towards Jake at the refreshment table and she tells him a quick thank you before running towards Jake.

She once again misses the heartbroken look on his eyes as he watches her laugh at something Jake says. He knew that he ruined his chance back then, you were happy and that was all that mattered. He rememberes his mom telling him that if you love someone you want them to be happy and that’s all he could want for her, and if Jake was her happiness, then he would put his feelings away. Happy that she was happy even though it was with another, but at least she had that bright smile again and sparkling eyes. 

She hugs him tight as her and Jake leave, telling him to not be a stranger before letting Jake take her to the car. Maverick comes next to him and brings him in a side hug.

“You did the right thing.”, he nods slowly before leaving towards his room not able to hide the tears any longer. 

I'm not sure if there should be another part or if I end it here but I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

[blamemma]

Can you tell us something about the maxiel artist au? Like some facts about it or something. 😊

it is my brain child. my magnum opus. my most beloved and my most hated. my wip I fear the most but also enjoy researching and writing the most. you can read the chapter breakdowns below tho and basic premise if you would like x

it is basically a 5 chapter fic that follows 5 different art eras, where either max or daniel is the artist or the subject. and then an epilogue which makes me giddy when I think about it.

so like ch. 1 is greek sculptures with daniel being a sculptor, who keeps on having incredibly vivid dreams about god max and decides to sculpt his body, all muscular lines, toned chest, thick thighs - an exploration of the body (max's body really). Daniel never sells the piece because he's compelled not to, he physically can't. keeps on having dreams about max. ch. 1 is the only one that's finished but still needs heavy editing and reading through etc. is at the moment 8,000 words so the fic is going to be longggg I think :/ also have a thought for the end of this chapter that I am mulling about but unsure about

ch. 2. is a toss up between two different eras which I am still fumbling around with and researching so not really wanting to share yet x (placement of whether it is chapter 2 or 3 is dependent on its time period)

ch.3 is romanticism era. Max is a travelling artist, old horse carrying his supplies who travels around Europe, painting scenery with romantic elements (not like romantic love but like themes and motifs of that era) and then selling them on so he can get to the next place. Arrives in X (haven't even put down a sentence yet for this chapter, think it will be my hardest chapter but I am still looking forward to writing it) and stumbles into a market where Daniel, a farmer, is selling his produce. Max is starving, been travelling for days, but is more entranced by daniel than his food. Stands and stares for a while until the market dies down and everyone packs up. Daniel comes over and talks to him, offers him shelter and food when max explains who he is. they fall in love max paints the barn where they first fuck, the gaping fields, the sprawling mountain sides. sets up a stall next to daniel's at the market selling his art for very cheap. privately paints parts of daniel, his face his hands (!!!!!!), his arms, thinks he's better at painting landscapes than people, but paints daniel portrait one day and places it at the market and daniel is astouned by it and wont let max sell it. offers to pay for it himself. someone offers max an insane amount of money for it though... more to this chapter than just that, again still working out the niggles, not my most planned and cohesive chapter but we'll get there x

ch. 4 poet daniel, sketcher max, they are both the artist!! (or maybe not I have a second idea for who max will be but I'll dive into that more when I commit more to writing this chapter). both come from rich, old money families, spend their time exploring, devouring art, making their own, old friends turned to lovers, secretly sleeping with each other behind their wives backs. 1920s American vibe trying not to be your cliche great gatsby but that is the inspo almost....

ch.5 mY MOST BELOVED MY MOST CLOSE TO HOME. was a rough idea in my head and then these photos came to light X and the plan came to me in an instance in my head. film photographer max in berlin (I SO want it to be based in berlin but this could change), exploring the city for the first time, away from home, a camera and a rucksack, so many different people and styles and daniel has been living there for 3-5 years knows the good places open max's eyes to so much max wastes so much film on daniel, candid photos of him, photos of him naked in bed, photos of him in clubs, photos of his tattoos, of his hands (again) (this fic is just a study of hands) of him far away, close up. max develops all the photos himself, lets daniel watch but not touch, the photos are a collection of their love and them falling in love hard and fast. daniel steals max's camera often, takes photos of max because he thinks max is BEAUTIFUL HANDSOME SHOULD BE THE SUBJECT SOMETIMES but max just doesn't see it gets embarrassed (THE PHOTOS LINKED WHERE HE LOOKS SHY AND TRYING TO TAKE THE CAMERA AWAY) . I predict this will be the longest chapter because I'll just get lost in it and it already has a lot committed to it already in terms of words I have put down...

epilogue. TO ME!!! the plan i have for the epilogue is chefs kiss perfect to me how I want it to end maybe one of the first things I planned and chucked a few paragraphs down on even though u need to go through all of the other 5 chapters to understand the epilogue (don't mean for this to be so vague but I don't think I will ever give much of the epilogue away because I just want it to be a nice surprising ending idk)

sorry this became so rambly but i am enjoying writing this and researching this so much I actually don't know if it will ever get published and if it does it wont be any time soon at all but I get some reading or writing done for it everyday and I just am really enjoying it idk....and thank you for asking xx <3

[inkykeiji]

i can’t tell my wrongs from my rights

characters: dabi, shigaraki tomura

genre: smut + angst

notes: the second part to break my bones but act as my spine! quirkless!AU w mafia-type undertones, tomura is a spoiled rich brat (so the same, basically), dabi is a Sad Boi™️ w tattoo’s over his fully healed + scarred skin, reader is in university | title cred: 16 lines by lil peep

warnings: 18+, daddy kink, drug use, cheating, masturbation, non-consensual audio recording, possessiveness/general toxic relationships, size kink/size difference, one (1) mention of physical abuse, pining

words: 14.2k

part one ⋆ part two ⋆ part three ⋆ part four ⋆ part five ⋆ epilogue ⋆ series masterlist

synopsis:

Because it’s just easier to pretend, right? That’s all the three of you have been doing, is playing pretend, isn’t it? Pretending that everything’s fine, that everything’s normal, pretending that Dabi’s heart doesn’t begin to immediately rip itself to pieces when he sees you all marked up, claimed, Tomura’s name written across your entire body in vibrant blotches of purple and blue; pretending traitorous heat doesn’t flare in your stomach every time you see him, when his back muscles flex under those trademark white tees, or when his voice drops, gets all rough and hoarse in the middle of the night or the early morning; pretending that Tomura has no idea what’s going on, no idea what’s brewing while he’s away at work, trying in vain to keep himself put together just barely, just enough as he takes over a multi-billion dollar business.  

“Three whole days?”

That’s what you had said, with a pout so deep it creased your forehead, eyes glimmering with the threat of tears, when he told you he had to leave.

“I’m sorry, princess,” his voice is regretful, soft, yet laced with an undercurrent of irritation—just the slightest hint, evident in the way his sentence tapers off into a hiss.

He had tried, desperately, to allow you to come with him—has never had to leave you alone for more than a night before, always refused to leave you alone for more than a night before.

But that was before.

“I won’t fucking do it,” he had growled, scarlet eyes glowing with rage. “I won’t fucking leave her on her own here,”

“She won’t be ‘on her own’,” Kurogiri tried to reason with him, sure to keep his voice gentle and calm. “She’ll have her guard dog protecting her the whole time; every minute you’re gone,”

That’s even worse! He had nearly shouted, eyes flashing as blunt nails dug into the sensitive, scabbed skin of his wrist.

“I don’t care,” he spat instead. “She’s coming with me, Goddamn it,”

“She can’t, Tomura,” Kurogiri sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his index fingers, a hint of frustration beginning to bleed into his voice. He inhaled deeply, holding the breath in his chest for a moment before exhaling slowly, and spoke again. “Think about it this way: is she safer here, with all your extremely high-tech, state of the art security and Dabi, or alone in a hotel room with nothing but a measly bolt lock to protect her?”

Tomura supposed he had a point.

He fucking hated that he had a point.

Ruby eyes glared ferociously at his confident, narrowing a little as his teeth ground together.

“Fucking Christ,” he snarled under his breath, nails finally breaking the skin again, remnants of days-old scabs and fresh blood caking under his nails.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

It’s bright and blue, the morning he has to leave, golden rays of the half-risen sun spilling in through the translucent sheer curtains, glittering snow blanketing the terrace catching in the light, individual flakes brilliant and sparkly.

It feels like it’s mocking you.

It’s too early for you to be up, he tells you, glancing at you through the corner of his eye as nimble fingers work their way up his chest, pairing the buttons of his shirt together in front of the massive full-length mirror.

A soft whine slips from your lips as you shake your head lethargically, face half hidden in the fluffy white sheets of his massive bed.

“Miss you already,” you whisper, blinking hard to keep the tears pricking your eyes at bay. You don’t want to cry, not here, not in front of him, not when he has to leave in an hour, don’t want to add to the immense stress he’s already under.

But it’s too late, he can already see them collecting in your eyes, can sense them even with his back turned to you, chest heaving under the force of a deep sigh. A half-untied tie hangs around his neck as he stalks towards you, sitting down on the edge of his bed, while a large hand moves to pet your head.

It’s insufferable, how badly you need him close, closer, greedy and insatiable as you spring up in bed and crawl towards him, nestling into his lap.

“I really don’t want you to leave,” you mumble into his chest, nuzzling your face against his cashmere dress shirt and inhaling deeply, letting his scent fill your lungs, your entire body, trying to bottle it up inside of you, to keep a piece of him with you, always.

Your voice is hoarse, a result of being fucked senseless into his mattress the night before. We have to make up for a full three days, he had told you as he crawled on top of you, caging you between the mattress and his body, slender fingers creeping up your bare thighs, slipping under your dress and hooking in the waistband of your panties.

“These are my favourite, you know,” he smirks, glancing briefly at the sheer, delicate white lace balled up in his fist. “Daddy’s taking these with him,”

A little squeal of embarrassed laughter escapes your chest, shaking your head a bit as you try and hide your face from him, murmuring about how dirty that is, Daddy.

And he makes true on his word, too, fucking you into the plush mattress for the majority of the night, filling you up and streaking your body with copious amounts of cum, pressing bruises in the shape of his fingerprints into your hips, your thighs, your throat.

His gravelly voice brings you back to the present.

“Trust me, baby, if I could take you with me I would, in an instant,” his voice is so raw, breaking just a little on the last word of that sentence, a heavy ache settling deep in your chest. “But you’re safer here,”

And you can tell he has to force that sentence through his lips, spitting those four words out as if they’re the most disgusting thing he’s ever tasted, face screwed up in displeasure.  

Dabi arrives at 7am on the dot, not a second later.

He winces when he sees you, mouth twisting in a grimace at your rough voice, azure eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they scan smooth skin peppered with splotches of blue and purple and red that disappear down your neck, over your collarbone and into your shirt, lips chapped and puffy as your little tongue darts out to lick at them again.

Tomura’s lips have been bitten raw, too, dry and chapped, scabs gleaming in the light. Dabi doubts that was from you, though.

He sighs, raking a hand through his hair, tugging at the silvery-blue strands a little. There’s a sore on the inside of his cheek that he can’t stop nibbling at, refusing to let the wound heal—a nervous tic—and it makes you want to run to him, to put your little hands on his face and stroke his defined cheekbones with your thumbs, to smooth out all of those worried lines creasing his skin and kiss him until he can’t think about anything but you.

He’s meticulously prepared, and has left an extremely detailed food schedule for Dabi, as if Dabi doesn’t already spend most of his days with you, something Tomura would rather not admit to himself.

“And bedtime is at midnight,” he says sternly. “Not a minute later,”

“Got it,”

“And make sure she eats all of her soup,” Tomura’s instructing as he’s halfway out the door, turning back to glare at you while he continues speaking. “Not just the noodles,”

“But Daddy,” you whine, bottom lip jutting out automatically. “I don’t like the celery,”

“And I don’t care,” Tomura responds simply. “You need your vegetables,” he looks over at Dabi for reinforcement, who sputters a little.

“Y-Yeah, brat,” he tries to keep his voice firm as he stares at you, but you can see it, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, laughter tugging at the corner of his lips. Your own lips begin to quirk up into a smile in response, and Dabi’s eyes widen, a silent warning not to giggle.

“I think that’s it,” he mutters to himself, lingering in the doorway. And Dabi can see it, the pure, unadulterated rage brewing in Tomura’s dark eyes as he stares at the two of you, gaze darting between your faces, back and forth, back and forth, until he finally sighs, chest deflating and shoulders slumping with the force of it. Crimson eyes find your face, studying your features slowly, as if he’s committing them to memory. “I love you,”

The sentence evokes inexplicable tears in your eyes—he says it to you every day before he leaves for work, why is today any different? You hiccup a little, nose twitching as you sniffle and nod.

“I-I love you, too,” you whisper, bleary eyes blinking twice.

And the look on Tomura’s face is the definition of absolute torment, anguish personified, Dabi thinks. For a moment, he’s sure Tomura’s gonna call the entire thing off, drawing in a deep breath as if he’s ready to speak it into existence, but then his phone buzzes twice, violently, and has him cursing under his breath as he’s departing out the door.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

The first day goes fine, for the most part. It’s a Friday, and you’re cranky from waking up so early, Dabi refusing to sympathize with you, because it’s your own fault, brat. You only have one class on Friday, early in the afternoon, and you practically demand a nap the moment you arrive home.

It’ll fuck up your sleep schedule, Dabi tries to reason with you, tries to keep his tone stern.

But you look so exhausted, eyelids drooping a little as you sway on your feet, brattiness fading into to gentleness, voice tender and quiet as you plead with him.

“Please, Dabi?” you slur your words a little, looking at him with glazed eyes and a soft pout. “Jus for a lil? M’so tired,”

He shouldn’t. Tomura wouldn’t. But…

But he supposes you didn’t get much sleep last night, if the dark purple blotches that mar your neck and collarbone are any indicator to go off of, knows you were up early this morning to see Tomura off, and that anxiety kept you from falling back asleep after he had left, despite Dabi’s slender fingers combing through your hair—something that normally calms you almost instantaneously, he’s come to learn.

“Please?” you whimper, gazing up at him and blinking twice, slowly.

God, how does Tomura resist you when you’re like this? How does he not give in, not give you any and everything you ask for?

“Fine,” he says weakly, looking away from your stare with a huff, disgusted in his own pathetic resolve. “Only for an hour, though,”

“An hour and a half,”

“Forty-five minutes, if you keep pushing, brat,” he warns and you squeak in response, nodding quickly.

Dabi seems to be more at ease as he collapses heavily on the couch, just a tad more relaxed than he normally is in the penthouse, and you wonder if it’s because Tomura won’t come barreling through the door at any given second, but decide it best not to ask; the last thing you want to do is ruin this rare mood.

Instead, you take advantage of it.

He expects you to go curl up in Tomura’s stupidly massive bed, expects that you’ll be a brat anyway and purposefully not set your alarm, expects that he’ll have to quite literally drag you out from under the fluffy comforter in an hour, when your nap is over.

He does not expect you to curl up next to him, shuffling around on the couch until you’ve got your head in his lap, turning a little to look up at him.

“Is it okay if I nap here? With you?”

And it’s the way you ask—in a soft, tiny voice, looking up at him sleepily, eyes almost glittering in the late afternoon sun, which will be beginning to set soon—that has him suffocating on his words, coughing a little and clearing his throat as he steels his expression.

At this point, he’s stopped trying to trick himself into believing that he’d ever actually be able to deny you, too.

“When has it not been, dumbass?” he tries to keep his voice strong and steady, attempts to keep it ridden with annoyance and irritation, which he fails miserably at, the insult escaping his lips almost endearingly.

Humming a little in agreeance, you smirk up at him before turning on your side again, cuddled up to his thigh.  

“Wake me in an hour, yeah?”

“You know I will,”

He’s become much more comfortable with casual skinship since he’s been forced to spend what feels like every waking moment with you—no longer flinches when you flop your head in his lap, getting comfy as you nuzzle your cheek into his thigh, tiny hand resting just above his knee; no longer goes rigid when you snuggle into his side, burrowing your way into a comfy position, pressed flush against him; no longer freezes up when you collapse on the other end of the couch, slouching down across it and throwing your legs haphazardly over his as you idly scroll through your phone.

Desperately, he tries not to think about that small string of drool dribbling steadily from the corner of your mouth, sticky and hot on his thigh as it pools, soaking through his jeans. He tries not to think about just how much you’re drooling, if you’d drool like that when you’re awake, too, while he’s fucking your throat raw.

You shift a little in his lap, emitting a quiet, nondescript noise and drawing his attention back to you. Gentle fingers caress your cheek, following down the side of your head and the curve of your jaw before threading through your hair. And, Christ, the little whine that spills from your lips as you nuzzle into him, sighing contently in your sleep, forces little explosions to erupt in his chest. But they quickly dull, fade, his heart squeezing painfully as the bruises littering your neck rudely remind him that you’re taken, claimed, and not his.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

Begrudgingly, he’s right; the nap does mess up your sleep schedule.

It’s late—just past three in the morning—as you tiptoe through the dark, quiet penthouse. The full-length windows allow neon light from the city to spill in, illuminating the rooms just enough for you to maneuver around furniture without tripping or stubbing your toe.

But not enough for you to dodge a fully grown man, apparently.

You’re staring at the floor, too busy trying not to trip over the ornate rugs covering the hardwood floors, when you smack directly into something solid and warm. A gasp falls from your lips and you look up, startled, stumbling back a few feet.

He laughs—a quiet, deep sound in his chest—strong hands finding your shoulders and stabilizing you. Wide eyes blink up at him, expression akin to that of a deer caught in headlights.

Or a little girl getting caught out of bed when she isn’t supposed to be.

Dabi smirks down at you. “You should be sleeping,” he says softly, hands sliding down to rest on your biceps, thumbs idly stroking your arm through the material of Tomura’s hoodie. “What’re you doing out of bed, princess?”

You frown, looking away as your cheeks flush.

“Hey, look at me,” he demands gently, your eyes snapping back to his immediately.

“I was hungry,” you mumble, little fingers twisting in the hem of the hoodie.

Dabi frowns, observing you for a moment. “Alright,” he sighs after a beat, taking one of your hands in his. You trail behind him like a puppy as he leads you to the kitchen, as if you need guidance, as if you haven’t been living here for over a year.

The potlights flicker to life, flooding the large kitchen—all granite and stainless steel—with soft golden light.

“C’mere,” Dabi says, your body moving to automatically obey. Large hands slip under your armpits and hoist you up easily, placing you on the counter.

A little whine sounds in the back of your throat, wincing as the warm, bare flesh of your thighs comes in contact with the cold granite.

Dabi smirks, sapphire eyes dragging down your body, hesitating on your naked thighs for a second too long.

“What do you wanna eat?” he asks, clearing his throat as his eyes travel back up to meet yours and leaning back against the counter opposite of yours, arms crossed loosely.

Heat seeps into your cheeks for the second time in fifteen minutes, and you suck on your bottom lip, gazing at him through your eyelashes shyly.

God, he wishes you wouldn’t do that. You’re already sitting with your thighs spread, giving him the perfect view of your cute pink polka-dot panties, trimmed with delicate pink lace and completed with a tiny satin bow on the waistband, and it’s taking all of his willpower not to fuck you senseless right here, right now, on that very counter.

It’d be so easy. He wouldn’t even need to take those snug little panties off—they’re just a touch too tight, and he thinks he can see the outline of your little clit if he stares hard enough—he’d just have to push them to the side and—

“Um, milk and cookies,” you murmur, drawing his attention back to your face. If you noticed his staring, you don’t say anything, instead watching him almost as if you’re scared of his answer.

Tomura probably doesn’t let you have sweets this late. Dabi shouldn’t either.

Dabi shouldn’t do a lot of things.

“Milk and cookies, huh?” he asks, chuckling a little and walking to the fridge.

“But, um…” you trail off, unsure. “Can I have chocolate milk?”

Dabi’s actions halt, hand frozen in mid-reach for the milk carton. Oh, you’re really pressing your luck tonight.

“I don’t see why not,” he says lightly, hand altering its course and grabbing the chocolate milk carton. And he tells himself he definitely isn’t giving into you because he wants to win brownie points, because he knows Tomura wouldn’t.

“Are you gonna have some, too?” you ask as he sets a glass down next to your thigh. He wasn’t planning on it, but…

“Sure princess, I’ll have some,” his eyes flick up to meet yours, just for a second, as he pours the milk, lips quirking up into a tiny lopsided grin. “Don’t tell your Daddy, though,” he says sternly while placing oatmeal chocolate chip cookies on a plate.

And it takes everything in him, every ounce of his self-control, not to spit that word out, harsh and mocking and dripping with jealousy.

Your eyes widen and he laughs a little at your expression, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, I know you’re not allowed to have sweets this late at night,” he says with a smirk, thinking back to Tomura’s ridiculous itinerary. “You thought you were being sly, didn’t you, you little brat,”  

You giggle a little, embarrassed, twirling a drawstring of the hoodie around your finger. “I won’t tell,” you promise, voice soft.

“Good,”

     ✰          ✰          ✰

The second night is the worst.

It’s nearly scalding, the heat marinating between your thighs, an obnoxious whine spilling from your lips as you turn over, petulant pout etched deep into your face, exhaling a strong, frustrated breath out your nose.

It’s aching, a deep throbbing rooted at your very core, vibrating throughout your entire body in waves, sending chills pebbling across your burning, clammy skin.

There’s nothing you can do about it, nothing you can do to relieve the pressure building in the pit of your stomach—not by yourself, anyway. Your fingers never work the way his do, could never feel as good as his do, and your toys are still hidden, locked away somewhere only he has the metaphorical key too, a direct result of disobeying him a few weeks ago and playing by yourself without his permission.

But you can’t sleep, potent lust—need—flowing through your veins, heady and intoxicating, your thighs squeezing together tightly in a fruitless effort to relieve some of the tension. Another pained whine, tapering off into a little whimper, sounds deep in the back of your throat as you thump onto your back, bleary eyes glaring up at Tomura’s intricately moulded ceiling.

Dabi’s only a room away, in the guest bedroom, in the bedroom that was supposed to be yours—maybe he could—

No. No. Guilt floods your body, chased by a sharp rush of shame as you cut that thought off immediately, suffocating it, stomach lurching with repulsion as your traitorous clit throbs at the prospect.

“No,” you tell yourself in a whisper, desperately aiming to be firm and hating the fact that the word quivers instead.

Trembling hands grope around the sheets as you blindly search for your phone, breath quickening as panic pierces your heart, mixing with the bitter guilt and acidic shame and settling sickeningly on your tongue. Your eyes squint at the bright screen as you bring it close to your face, your thumb jabbing Daddy three times in quick succession.

He answers halfway through the third ring, voice deep and gravelly.

“Princess?”

But you can still hear the slight panic in his tone, laced with sleep.

“D-Daddy,” you whimper, muffled by your face in the sheets as your eyes shut tightly against the stinging tears evoked by the very sound of his voice, by the love and adoration and worry that comes with it.

“Yes, baby?”

A soft, pathetic little whimper is all you can seem to manage, suddenly at a loss for words, heat seeping into your cheeks. And you can almost feel his aura shift, know exactly which smirk is spreading across his face as he huffs out a chuckle, low and hoarse.

He hums in question, waiting for a moment before speaking again.

“I know you didn’t call and wake up Daddy for nothing,”

There’s a warning in his tone, buried under the playful lilt to his voice, and it sends another intense rush of heat to your core, burning straight through the sordid undesirable feelings swirling in your chest just a moment ago.

Your cheeks are scalding now, fire spreading down your neck and creeping over your ears—but it’s so embarrassing to say, his name leaving your lips in a whine, a soft plea.

“C’mon princess, be a big girl and use your words. Tell Daddy what you want,” “I-I...m’horny, daddy,” you whisper, wincing a little as you force the words out. “And I—Well, I can’t do it w-without you,”

Tomura laughs again, a smooth, deep sound that vibrates through the speaker against your ear, sending shivers scurrying down your spine.

“Are you in my room right now?” he asks, and you hum an affirmative. “Good. In the bedside table on my side of the bed, there’s a pair of headphones. Put them on—unless you wanna put me on speaker and give Dabi a real show,”

“N-No,” you squeak, scrambling to search hastily through the drawer. “I-I did it,” you breathe a moment later, settling back against his pillows.

“Good girl,” he practically purrs, your stomach swooping at the sound. “Take your panties off,”

“Daddy—” you begin, tone sulky.

“I’m gonna guide you through it, princess,”

It isn’t what you want—you were hoping he’d tell you where he hid the toys—but you suppose you don’t have much of a choice now, lifting your hips enough to shove your panties down your legs, kicking them off.  

He tells you how to spread yourself open, how to fuck yourself with your fingers, how to curl them just right, speaking to you as if you’re stupid, voice gentle and condescending.

And you try, try to close your eyes and listen to his commands, try to obey and do exactly as he says, try to imagine it’s him touching you instead.

But it isn’t satisfying in the slightest, just like you knew it wouldn’t be, not even with the way his voice is getting huskier, breathier, each one of his sharp inhales or quiet, breathy grunts sending another wave of arousal crashing over you.

“It’s not the same,” you nearly wail, pulling your fingers from yourself and flexing them, then rolling your wrist. “I want your cock, Daddy,”

“I know baby,” he breathes, voice soft and sympathetic, and you’re surprised your getting away with such brattiness; he must be feeling more sentimental than usual today. “Daddy misses you, too. But for right now Daddy’s gonna need you to make yourself cum, okay? Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”

Yes, Daddy, of course, Daddy, you can always be a good girl for him.

So you try again, with a little more vigour this time, a little more motivation, the thought of being good fuelling you.

“Bet your pussy looks so cute right now, being filled by your fingers,” he groans a little, and it’s one of those groans, the ones he makes when you sink down on him, the ones he tries to stifle when your little hands wander over his lap at those fancy dinners you hate so much, palming him through his expensive trousers. “Did I make your cock hard, Daddy?” He laughs, a gruff sound crackling through your headphones. “God, how do you manage to make such an obscene sentence sound so innocent?” He huffs out. “Yeah babygirl, you made my cock hard,” “A-Are you touching it right now?” You ask shyly, the thought of him laying in his hotel bed with a fist wrapped around his cock making your tummy flutter. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “So make some cute noises so Daddy can get off, princess. D’ya think you can do that for me?” “Mhmm,” “Good girl,” he praises, voice just a bit strained. “Now keep going, baby. Touch yourself for Daddy, play with that cute little clit for me,” he pauses, snapping at you when you don’t immediately begin again. “That’s an order, princess,”

A soft yelp slips through your parted lips as you nod, even though he can’t see you, beginning to pump your fingers again. It’s embarrassing, how wet you are, juices covering your palm, lewd squelching echoing out among the empty room.

“Feeling good?”

“Y-Yeah,” the word escaping your mouth in a gasp. “Doing it just like how you told me to, Daddy,”

“Fuck,” he breathes, and you hear some rustling on the other end, then a thump. “Good girl,”

You mewl at the praise, at the way his voice has already gotten deeper, guttural and raspy, pushing your hips towards your hand in response as your fingers work, exactly the way he instructed only a few minutes prior—middle finger and ring finger, baby, c’mon, I know you can do it; yeah, move ‘em in and out a little, slow at first…That’s it, good girl…Find that spot you love so much, princess—it shouldn’t be too hard to find, you know where it is—and curl your fingers, pressing your knuckles into it…Yeah, like that…

His words reverberate in your brain, voice coated in saccharine condescension, a tone so completely him as he almost talks down to you in that syrupy, deep voice, replaying on loop while your fingers unthinkingly obey.

Those words are so loud in your head, mixed with his quiet grunts and little whines, flowing through the headphones, that you don’t realize just how noisy you’re being, whimpers of Daddy, Daddy and broken moans escaping your throat in a continuous stream, volume rising and rising and rising.

“God, I am going to fuck your brains out the moment I get back,” he vows, panting a little.

“Yes,” you mewl, fingers picking up speed as you rub your clit against the heel of your hand.

“Gonna—uh—gonna stuff that pretty little cunt full of my cum, until it’s leaking out everywhere,” he’s growling now, words rumbling in your ears.

“Oh daddy, please,” the plead leaves your lips in a high, needy whine.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Daddy’s little cumslut,”

You can’t answer anymore, eyes rolling back as you emit soft little ah!’s, fucking yourself on your fingers.

“That’s it babygirl, make yourself feel good for Daddy—oh, fuck,” he breathes, and you can tell he’s close too.

Your fingers curl again, almost viciously this time, as your hips roll, practically humping your hand, and it only takes a few more thrusts before you’re crying out, cumming all over yourself, heated body arching off his bed as your entire frame trembles.

You can hear his noises, little growls grunts, muted and muffled by your post orgasm haze as you melt back into his mattress,

“Are you gonna cum for me, Daddy?” You ask brokenly, voice wrecked and breathless from your orgasm, and he groans loudly. “I made s-such a good mess for you, I’ll send you a photo,”

“Christ,” he curses, the word catching in his throat and he chokes on it, garbled sound morphing into a loud moan, the sound filling you mind with images of him cumming all over his own fist, spurting ropes of shimmering white along his toned chest. “I bet you did, baby,” he says a moment later, breathing heavily into the receiver.

“You wanna see?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, and the sudden change in tone has warmth sprouting in your chest. “Send me a picture, princess, and then bed, understand?”

“Yes Daddy,” you respond obediently, preening a little at the gentle chuckle you pull from him.

And it’s only when you’re snuggling back into Tomura’s plush bed, surrounded by fluffy blankets and thick pillows, body boneless from the force of your orgasm, that you remember Dabi’s in the room right next to you.

Your lidded eyes fly open, a gasp catching in your throat at the realization. It completely slipped your mind the moment Tomura began speaking to you, so caught up in Tomura’s voice, in your fingers stuffing your little cunt, that you forgot you weren’t exactly alone. “Oh God,” you whimper into the cotton sheets as your entire body flushes in embarrassment. Just how loud were you? You can’t remember—you weren’t paying attention, too focused on and wrapped up in your Daddy’s sweet voice to even notice. How on earth are you supposed to face him tomorrow at breakfast?

You don’t have much time to mull over it, though, because within moments your breathing is evening out, heavy eyelids slipping shut.

 ...But, really, Tomura’s walls really aren’t as thick as you think they are.

Or, maybe you just don’t care.

Either way, it doesn’t matter to Dabi. He can hear you so clearly it nearly feels like he’s in the room with you, cock twitching in response to particularly loud moan, breathy and high as it seeps through the wall.

He can imagine it almost perfectly, a mirage forming in front of his very eyes; you on your back, hair splayed out on the pillow as little hands creep between your thighs, face sticky and heated with a mixture of embarrassment and lust as pretty little noises fall from your lips, broken mewls and soft whines of his name—

“Fuck,” he breathes in annoyance as his cock pulses, straining against his plaid PJ pants.

He tries to resist, honestly, he does—tries to ignore how ridiculously hard he is, hips shifting on their own as he pathetically humps the mattress just a little, trying in vain to find some relief without actually touching himself.

But it’s the third time that you let out another one of those broken little whines that has Dabi rooting around for his phone on the nightstand, snatching it up and unlocking it hastily before pressing that small little red circle, starting the voice recording app.

He’ll never get another opportunity like this, he tries to reason with himself, ignoring the tiny spark of guilt that flickers in his stomach—it’s small, and easy enough to snuff out, especially when your beautiful little sounds are only increasing in volume and frequency. He has to make the most of this, he’s sure of it.

Large hands shove his PJ pants down his thighs, just enough to free his cock, cautious not to ruffle the sheets too much and muffle your noises on the recording. Sharp teeth bite down hard on his tongue as his hand wraps around himself, squeezing hard as he begins jerking off almost immediately.

And, for a moment, he thinks you’re just getting yourself off normally—alone. It isn’t until he hears you responding to something—a question, he thinks—that he realizes you’re talking to someone, most likely on the phone with Tomura.

The creature in his chest rages at the thought, jealousy bubbling up and burning his throat as it overflows, drying his mouth out and leaving a nasty taste, his molars grinding together.

But he’s thankful you’re consistently crying out the word Daddy! instead of Tomura’s name—it makes it easier to imagine it’s him pulling those sounds from you.

The poor thing, the thought echoes through his head as he listens to your struggle, complaining about how ‘it’s not the same!’. If it’s cock you want…

He could’ve given it to you—could still give it to you, if you’d just hang the damn phone up.

It’s a thought that crosses his mind multiple times as he listens, thinking about how pathetically easy it’d be to just rip open the door to Tomura’s bedroom, toss the phone across the fucking room and pin you down, railing you into his mattress for the remainder of the night.

Truly, it kills him in the best way, having to listen to your frustrated whines as you desperately strive to get yourself off, when he’s only a few meters away, separated by measly drywall, when he could be in there, making you feel better than your little fingers ever could.

But Tomura must say something that encourages you, because your needy little whines of complaint and protest, sounding almost as if you’re on the verge of tears, quickly morph into something else, tiny yelps and mewls, changing out the word daddy over and over, higher and higher, and—

Did I make your cock hard, Daddy?

The question floats through the wall, soft and naïve and just so fucking precious, causing a sharp hitch in Dabi’s breath, hastily shoving his free fist into his mouth to muffle the uncontrollable whine that tries to escape his throat, piercing teeth sinking into his knuckles hard enough to force shooting pain up his forearm, hard enough to leave deep purple indents in his skin, speckled with red, that’ll take hours to fade.

It’s building in his body, way too fucking quickly, searing heat coiling in his stomach, tighter and tighter and tighter as his motions become more vigorous, speeding up to match his strokes in time to your escalating moans.

You cum, and he chokes on a rough whimper, drool beginning to dribble out of his mouth, running down the side of his hand and dripping off his wrist, oozing onto his pillow in a little puddle.

And then he hears it, in your cute, breathy voice, strained and raspy post-orgasm, as you coo sweetly, Are you gonna cum for me, Daddy?

“Fuck,” Dabi whines brokenly around the fist stuffed in his mouth, much too loudly, praying that Tomura’s too loud in your ears for you to hear him as he explodes all over his fist, cumming hot and sticky and so much, soiling the sheets and waistband of his pants.

Harsh, rapid breaths are exhaling through his nose, his chest heaving with exertion as he tries to calm himself, quiet himself, unlocking his stiff muscles and dislodging his fist from his mouth, jaw aching from being forced open for so long.

Revulsion and shame should be taking root deep at the core of his body, should be settling deep into his bones after such a perverted act; or at least that’s what he thinks should be happening, what would happen to a normal person with a normal conscious. But he isn’t normal.

Instead, he feels ecstatic, elated to have the recording, clear and clean and full of only you, drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face and your moans echoing in his head, scathing jealousy in his chest momentarily tamed by his orgasm.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

“Dabi!” You holler, skipping through the halls late Sunday morning, voice echoing throughout the penthouse. “Dabi, you lazy butt, get u—”

Feet skid to a stop in front of the open doorway to his bedroom, voice cutting off as you realize he is already up, muttering something softly to himself as he stares down at the bedspread. His head snaps up at your abrupt appearance, looking almost guilty, though it’s hard to tell. “You’re already up?” “What do you want?” He bites, and you flinch at his sharp tone. He frowns, sighing as fingers tug through inky hair, muttering a soft apology and looking away, while you stand unsurely in his doorway, fingers twisting in front of yourself. “Well, I—It’s Sunday, and I thought we could make pancakes, I didn’t—Is...Is everything okay?” Hesitantly, your feet begin entering the room, motions slow and cautious, almost as if you’re approaching a wild, terrified animal, hands raised slightly in submission. You gasp when you see it. His jaw flexes, a flaming mixture of guilt and shame, feelings that he should’ve felt instantly after making such a mess last night, finally flooding his body. “Oh,” you say softly, eyes drawn to a large, messy white patch staining the dark sheets.  

For a moment, everything is still, quiet, unbreathing, until your eyes flick up to meet his for a second—a curious little grin on your face, an uncharacteristic shock of guilt written across his—before they drift back down to the bedspread, blinking rapidly.

“Well, that’s okay,” you say softly, eyes darting back to his again. “It’s no big deal, I’ll just throw ‘em in the wash,”

It takes him a moment to find his voice as you begin untucking the sheets from the mattress, but when he does, it’s hoarse, strained.

“I’ll help,”

“Yeah, okay,” you say gently, eyes shining oddly, little grin still in place on your face, an expression he’s never witnessed before.

And it should be awkward as the two of you strip the bed. The air should be thick and heavy and uncomfortable—you should be livid at him, for invading your privacy like that, for being such a fucking pervert—but you aren’t, and it isn’t.

Instead, the two of you keep catching each other’s eyes as you work together, quick glances where your gazes connect for a millisecond before you look away, soft giggles and short chuckles falling from both pairs of lips at the absurdity of it all.

And it shouldn’t—It absolutely shouldn’t fill you with giddiness, the thought of Dabi getting off to you last night, listening to you as you touched yourself, shouldn’t make you feel desired and loved, shouldn’t make your heart soar in your chest. It should make you feel sick, disgusted, revolted.

But it doesn’t. And that, that scares you.

Do you even know how to do laundry? He’s teasing as you fumble with the fabric softener, watching you out of the corner of his eye as he stuffs the sheets and comforter into the machine. “Doesn’t Daddy and Daddy’s servants do everything for you?”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “I’ve lived without Tomura for over twenty years, you know,” you snap back. “I can do things on my own, I just prefer not to,” you respond simply with a shrug.

Tomura arrives later that afternoon, and Dabi leaves less than a second after Tomura’s stepped foot through the door, muttering a quick, impolite greeting as he exits. Tomura’s eyebrows furrow and he stares at the door for a moment, cocking his head to the side, before slow crimson eyes drift back to you, a predatory grin spreading across his face.

“Get over here.”

Truthfully, Dabi had tried to save himself from having to witness it, knows it makes his chest twist as if someone’s stabbed his heart with a dagger when he has to see it, but your excited squeals of Daddy! carry down the hall, float past the ceilings and walls, seeping through every crack and nook in the molding. He knows he shouldn’t go home, knows he’ll be stuck listening to your agonizingly glorious moans as you welcome Tomura home, as the mahogany headboard of Tomura’s needlessly massive bed slams rhythmically against the wall, hard enough to send gentle tremors traveling down the drywall and into Dabi’s own bedroom below. But he does it anyway, forces himself to sit through it, to count how many orgasms Tomura’s able to pull from you, refusing to touch his aching cock.

It’s fucking torture, and he’s not sure why he even does it, his mind screaming at him to get the hell up, to get the hell out. Maybe it’s because he has to know, has to hear it for himself yet again, get that explicit confirmation that the look in your eyes from this morning, and that curious little smile on your face, meant absolutely nothing, and that you still belong to him.

Maybe it’s because he’s convinced he deserves it, the cruelest form of self-punishment, listening to the girl he loves get fucked out of her mind by someone who isn’t him.

Tomura makes good on his promise from Saturday night and fucks you senseless—against the door, on the table, over the arm of the couch, in his bed—fills you with so much hot cum you can feel it burning deep in your belly, so much cum that it feels like your tummy’s actually bulging with it.

The bruises he left Thursday night have begun to fade, ugly greens and yellows marring your neck, and he doesn’t like that, growling a little as his teeth sink into the supple flesh hard enough to break the skin, sucking with so much force it bursts several blood vessels and causes you to cry out, tears flooding your eyes as his hips piston up into you almost viciously.

And then he does it again, and again, and again, until your entire neck, collarbone, and chest are covered, brilliant shades of violet and navy blossoming across your skin, each one screaming his name.

He fucks you until your boneless, until you physically cannot hold yourself up anymore, abused body sinking into the plush mattress and cum leaking out of your little hole, pussy puffy and raw. He fucks you until your voice goes hoarse, throat split open from the constant noises he draws out of you, until your mind goes positively numb, incapable of conceiving anything other than his name and his cock.

It isn’t until Tomura’s carrying you to the kitchen, your legs too weak to walk on your own, muscles still trembling a little from the sheer magnitude of your several orgasms, that you remember the sheets.

A reflexive gasp escapes your lips as you pass the laundry room, wincing a little at your own stupidity. And, perceptive as ever, Tomura halts, ruby eyes scanning your face slowly, before he peaks into the room, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Why are there sheets in the dryer?”

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily against his shoulder. “Oh. Uh, the maid put them in there,”

Tomura’s eyes narrow slightly. “The maid doesn’t come in on Sundays…” he pauses, looking back at the machine, shuffling a little closer to get a better look at the contents. “Wait a minute, these are the sheets from the guest bedroom, are they not? From Dabi’s room?”

Your entire body freezes in his arms, heart rate beginning to rise as you pull back a little to look at him, blinking your tired eyes. “I-I dunno,”

He hums to himself, eyes squinting a little more as he thinks, a venomous grin of realization curling his lips a moment later.

“That nasty fucker,”

And while Tomura may look playful, and his tone may sound teasing, you know that dangerous glint in his eye. Dabi would know it too, if he were present, has seen it more times than he can count—that special little glimmer Tomura gets in his eyes right before he kills.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

She doesn’t compare, could never compare to you—her laugh is wrong, her moans are too low, her voice doesn’t break like yours does, in the same way yours does, when Tomura really fucks you. But if he closes his eyes, shuts them tight until he’s seeing stars, until it’s borderline painful, he can almost imagine that it’s you withering under him, you scraping your nails down his back, you clenching around him—though he’s sure your pussy is sweeter than this. Almost. He should probably feel disgusted in himself, in the way he pathetically searches for girls who look remotely similar to you to bring home and fuck while that recording of your moans plays on loop in his head. He is, he supposes, in one way or another. But he’s been a scumbag for most of his adult life; things like this stopped bothering him a long time ago. This girl’s lucky to even have his cock at all, he thinks—and he can’t find it in him to care anymore, moaning out your name in that rough, deep voice on more than one occasion as he fills them with cum.

Because that thing, that creature you bred in his chest, ravenous and unquenchable in it’s craving for you, needs to be fed in somehow, someway, needs you in any capacity it can get you in at this point. He needs you too badly, is forced to do shit like this to restrain himself from just fucking you on the spot the next time he sees you, because he would never be able to handle the way you’d look at him after.

He wouldn’t be able to bear it if you hated him or were scared of him. No. Not anymore. Maybe once, but not anymore.

He’s in way too deep now, barely even minds anymore; it isn’t worth the trouble and effort. It’s become a fact of his life, his love for you, and he’s been working hard to accept it as an invariable of his life, something he can’t change, won’t change, will never change. You’re like a fucking addiction, a sickness, a good and bad one, something that simultaneously makes his chest swell while his heart crumbles to ash.

It’s pathetic and it’s not enough, will never be enough, but he’ll take whatever he can get to calm the voracious thing in his chest, even if it’s only for a little.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

Despite his thoughtful apology, and Isaac, things with Dabi are still rocky at best. Some days are better than others, yet it seems like every time you think the two of you are finally making progress, something happens and he snaps, and you have to start over, again.

It feels like you’re climbing a mountain with him, steep and unsteady, never knowing when a loose rock is going to give, sending you plunging back to the base, over and over and over again.

You’d like to think that it is slowly getting better—one of those things that progresses so slowly you can barely notice it over a long period of time—want to believe that you’re steadily gaining more good days than bad, but it’s hard to tell.

It’s been a week and a half since your sleepover, and things have been…Good. Fine. Well enough to have you becoming cautiously optimistic, again. Maybe all you needed was a weekend alone, just lounging around in each other’s presence without the looming threat of your boyfriend and his boss, just being together, existing together.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

It’s storming again—the skies of Tokyo seem to always be storming these days—a dense flurry of thick snowflakes steadily wisping against the window, diluting the neon light from the city.

Resultingly, the car ride from the university back to the penthouse had taken nearly triple the amount of time it normally does, and by the time you arrive home, Dabi’s just about ready to crawl out of his own fucking skin.

More than half the drive home was spent listening to you, giggling into your phone and squealing Daddy! intermittently, Tomura undoubtedly neglecting his responsibilities just to speak with you for a little longer.

This isn’t uncommon, it isn’t unusual. You normally call Tomura, every single day, on your drive home from school, and Tomura’s been sure to set aside an allocated amount of time, every day, varying based on the time that your class for any particular day ends.

Dabi’s used to this, has gotten used to this.

But only for half an hour.

Although, this isn’t what sends him over the edge. No, he’s become pretty damn good at controlling his jealousy, has learned how to live with the sharp teeth that gnaw on his heart, coating it in viscous acidic saliva any time you merely mention Tomura, never mind when he’s actually forced to witness the two of you together. But half an hour passes, and then forty-five minutes, and then an hour and fifteen minutes, and everything’s beginning to get under his skin, slithering and scuttling along his flesh, nipping at it, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

He tries to concentrate more on the way his hands are beginning to tremble, sweat beginning to bead his hairline, heart beginning to race as anxiety sets in, because he forgot all of his pretty little distractions—tiny blue pills and soft white powder—at the penthouse.  

But it’s not that that sets him off, either.

It’s the expression on your face, all twisted up somewhere between concern and disgust, as he hastily snatches the bottle off the granite countertop where he left it, breath shaky and shallow as quivering hands tap out a few pills, dry-swallowing all three at once.

He sighs, heart already beginning to calm with the knowledge that now he just has to wait a little, just give it a bit of time, and then he’ll begin to feel normal again, eyes opening to find you staring at him, lips pressed together in disapproval, arms crossed over your chest and foot tapping against the hardwood.

“What?” he scowls, cobalt eyes darkening as he glares back at you.

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that,”

And, God, it’s the way you say it, voice laced with disdain and squinting a little at the small bottle his fingers are wrapped around, clutching like a fucking lifeline, the way your lips curl into a bit of a sneer on those last few words, that has him finally snapping.

Scalding anger flashes through his chest, blistering his insides, and he scoffs at you. Tomura takes just as many—if not more—drugs than he does, and you wouldn’t dare say that to him, wouldn’t even think of making such an ugly face, wouldn’t ever use that fucking tone with him, Dabi’s mind rages, decidedly ignoring the fact that you’d probably get slapped so hard it would split your lip, had you ever tried speaking to Tomura in such a manner.

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to deal with you every waking minute of every godforsaken day, so,” he spits, grip around the tiny bottle tightening, thin skin stretched taut across sharp, bony knuckles.

Eyes widening, you blink several times at the sheer audacity before your features harden, eyes narrowing. Chin tilted up just a touch, you gaze at him with—with what appears to be pity, like you feel sorry for him, like he’s pathetic.  

“Oh? Is that your excuse? It’s my fault, right?”

It is! He wants to roar, a dark growl rumbling deep within his chest as he exhales harshly, nostrils flaring with the force of it.

“Couldn’t possibly be your own fault, now could it?” you continue, and the look you give him, filled with derision and disgust, has his heart crawling through the ribs that contain it.

His glare scathes your skin, but you hold steadfast, glowering back at him and raising an eyebrow—a challenge. You begin walking into the living room, stroll slow and controlled as you speak.

“Nah, ‘course not, it’s not like you use them to—”

And it’s all accumulating, all those vicious feelings building in his chest, higher and higher and higher with each word you speak, dense and heavy, until it breaks out, it bursts, spilling uncontrollably from his lips.

“Holy fucking Christ! Y’know, my life would be so much fucking better if you had never stumbled into it!”

With your stupidly pretty eyes, and soft smiles, and the way you giggle just a little when he teases you, when he calls you names, the way you’re not afraid to fight back, especially with issues you’re passionate about—it would be so much better if it were all just gone. Life would be easy again.

Feet skidding to a stop, your head whips around, staring at him with wide, incredulous eyes. For a moment, he’s sure you’re going to cry. Then your eyes steel, vitriolic and cold, nostrils flaring as your hands curl into tiny, trembling fists.

“What is wrong with you lately!?” your voice is beginning to rise, bordering on a yell. “I swear to God, you give me fucking whiplash!”

“Watch your mouth,” he snaps at you, cerulean eyes blazing.

“Oh, who are you, Tomura?” you laugh, a high, bitter, humorless sound. “And, what? You think I enjoy being forced to spend all my time with you? That I consider it a good time? That I wouldn’t trade you for Tomura in a heartbeat?”

And it stings, that last sentence, stings like a sharp backhanded smack to the face, his cheek aching from the force, grinding his molars together as he resists the urge to cradle it, the copious amount of drugs doing nothing to dull the pain, nothing to numb him to your seething eyes and hostile, caustic words.

“I cherish the time I don’t spend with you,” he snarls, though there are tears collecting in his eyes, jaw clenching twice as he inhales forcefully, swallowing past the acrid lump in his throat.

It’s a lie. Of fucking course it’s a lie. All he does in his spare time is think about you, fuck girls that look like you, obsess over fleeting moments with you, overthinking himself into a fucking aneurysm.

Lies, lies, lies, so many lies spilling from his mouth, acidic and burning holes in his tongue, each one of your quiet sniffles or choked gasps sending another spike of agony shredding through his heart.

But you blink hard, teeth gritted as you proudly hold back tears.

“Do you think I like being stuck with you anymore than you like being stuck with me? I don’t. These past months has been the worst of my entire life, you’re a goddamn nightmare—”

He’s never seen you this angry before, wasn’t even sure you were capable of getting this angry before, and that monster, the one you birthed, growls and snarls and thrashes from inside his chest, sending searing pain shooting up his spine.

“Yeah, well, you’re no walk in the park either, sweetheart,” he barks out the words, for no reason other than to try and quell the pitiful quiver in his voice, wild eyes scanning your face frantically. “Gonna cry? Just like you always do?” And his tone is taunting, brimming with scorn. “Why don’t you go and run to him, just like you always do. Let him fix your fucking problems for you, again, since you can’t seem to do anything yourself—”

“What do you want me to do, Dabi!? When you borderline abuse me everyday, what do you expect me to do in this situation, who else am I—”

“You do realize that people just tolerate you, right? That’s all we’re stuck doing; just enduring your presence until we can fucking leave again, because you—you’re protected, aren’t you? Protected by the boss,” he spits the final word out, face contorting in disgust, as if the word sours his tongue.

You laugh again, a shrill sound that spills almost uncontrollably from your throat. “Oh yeah? And were you just tolerating me when you jerked off while listening to me fuck myself a week ago?”

“I mean, that’s all you’re good for, right?” he shoots back, eyes narrowed into sharp slits. “That’s all Tomura keeps you around for, isn’t it?”

And that’s the one that does it—that’s the one that ultimately breaks the dam amassing in your chest, tears finally trickling over your lash-line.

Because although you’ve grown a tougher, thicker skin spending so much time with him, it’s still always those little remarks that get you the most, the ones that may have a hint of truth to them, spit out in the heat of the moment.

Your expression changes in an instant, all the fury fading from your face as your features fall, chin beginning to tremble as your bottom lip juts out, chest stuttering with little hiccupped breaths.

Immediately, he knows he’s gone too far. Immediately, he’s moving towards you, moving solely on instinct, words overflowing from his mouth in a steady, continuous stream, though he can barely hear what he’s speaking, blood rushing so loudly in his ears they’re beginning to ring.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he’s saying as he advances, arms outstretched and reaching for you.

“Fuck you,” you try to shout, words getting garbled in your mouth as salty tears roll down your cheeks, shaking your head at him. “Fuck you,” He’s too close now, arms almost able to encircle you, little hands finding purchase on his chest and shoving as hard as you can.

It doesn’t deter him at all—he doesn’t even fucking budge—ignoring your weak pushes and wrapping his arms around you, still speaking.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” his voice vibrates against your cheek as you squirm in his embrace. “I didn’t mean it, baby, I didn’t mean it, I promise,”

And he can’t seem to stop, ostensibly powerless to control the words constantly tumbling past his lips.

The pet-name makes your breath hitch, half-sobs stuttering in your chest—it isn’t something you hear often, only managing to slip past his lips during special occasions such as this.

Tiny, trembling fists beat against his chest as you cry, chest-wracking sobs that shake your entire frame, little gasps escaping your lips as you choke on your tears.

“I—I hate you!” you wail, shoving him again, although he doesn’t shift one bit, entirely unphased. Instead, strong arms squeeze you closer, holding you tightly to his chest. “No!” you scream, trying in vain to push him away again, little fists still slamming against him, over and over and over, though you’re beginning to lose strength, actions beginning to slow, the toll of your rage finally beginning to catch up with your body.

“Stop,” he says softly. “Stop, stop,”

“Let me go,” you sob into his chest as your motions begin to slow, his arms squeezing you again.

“Shh,” he hushes you, deep and gentle, chest vibrating with the quiet command. “Stop,”

Finally, you collapse against him, body going limp as he supports all of your weight, face pressed almost painfully against his chest.

“I hate you,” you weep, but your hands are fisting in his t-shirt, trying to pull him closer. “I hate you s-so much,”

“I know,” Dabi responds hoarsely, voice breaking. “I hate me, too,”

His soft confession only makes you cry harder, entire body trembling violently against him. Swallowing thickly, Dabi cradles you in his arms, hugging you to his form and beginning to rock your bodies gently.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he continues, can’t seem to think of anything else to say, any other way to express how awful he feels. “I am so fucking sorry, so sorry, my baby,”

And there it is again, that pet-name—that pet-name that conjures up a sob so aggressive it tears through your chest excruciatingly, the sheer force of it strangling you, coughing and gagging as you stutter out his name.

“God, princess,” Dabi whimpers, and it sounds almost as if he’s crying, too. “I don’t—fuck—” he inhales shakily, cutting himself off as his eyes begin to burn.

He can feel panic building in his chest so quickly it’s suffocating him. He has half a mind to push you away from him and run as fast as he possibly can in the other direction; maybe back to the Audi. Maybe he’ll just start driving and never stop. Maybe he’ll drive right off a goddamn cliff. His fingers flex, digging into your back hard enough to make you hiss, and he feels jittery, restless, like the penthouse is closing in on him. He’s got to get the fuck out of here, immediately, before he—

“Dabi?” you ask softly, sniffling a little and hesitantly placing a hand on his cheek, gazing up at him with gleaming eyes, still full of tears.

Your sudden touch breaks through his thoughts and he jumps violently, his reaction startling you enough to gasp and begin pulling your hand away. Dabi catches it quickly and presses your palm back against his cheek.

“No,” he whispers, holding your hand in place. “Please,”

Large eyes search his face for a few seconds, brows knitted in confusion, more glistening tears streaming down your cheeks. His eyes are red and glassy, filled with tears he stubbornly refuses to let fall. His nose twitches, and he breathes out hard to stop it.

“Okay,” you finally respond, thumb caressing his inked skin. “Okay.”

The both of you stand motionless for a few seconds, continuing to stare at each other silently, before the burning in Dabi’s veins becomes too much to take.

He seizes your face suddenly, large hands cupping your jaw, and pulls you towards him, pressing your lips together fiercely. You gasp into the kiss, wide eyes searching Dabi’s face as he squeezes his eyelids shut tightly, tears finally leaking from the corners.

Your shock only lasts for a moment, though, before your mind gives into your impulses, body relaxing against his as your hands move on their own accord, slipping around his neck.

He whines into the kiss and you press closer, raising up on your tiptoes as his tongue licks along the seam of your lips, which part to give him immediate access, tongue eagerly greeting his. He tastes exactly like you imagined he would, like spicy cinnamon and smoke and just the slightest hint of citrus.

Dabi pours his soul into those soft, gentle kisses, tries in vain to convey all of the things he wishes he had the courage to say and just prays that you understand.

And he thinks…he thinks you do. Hiccupping into the kisses, his lips stutter a little, and you whimper in response, your fingers working their way up his neck and into the soft inky hair at the base of his skull, tangling themselves in it.

He kisses you until his back aches from bending down at such an angle, until his chest burns from lack of oxygen, until your saliva is so interspersed it no longer belongs to either of you.

It’s Dabi that finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as your chests heave, ragged breaths echoing down the penthouse’s halls.  

And he expects overwhelming guilt to hit him immediately, is almost wincing as he waits for the impact, but it never comes. Instead, he feels relieved, like he can finally fucking breathe again.

The door slams, Tomura calling out for you, and the two of you spring apart, as if you had been electrically shocked. Still panting, your wide eyes find his, holding his gaze, a silent question of what to do.

“Wipe your mouth,” Dabi instructs hastily in a sharp whisper, completing the action with you as he drags the back of his hand across his gleaming lips, clearing the residuary saliva as Tomura’s footsteps echo closer, and closer, and closer.

Shaking his head to clear it a little, Dabi closes his eyes for a second before rolling his shoulders back and puffing his chest, molding his facial features to mimic frustration. He gives you one final glance, something that almost looks apologetic, and then he’s turning on his heel to barrel past Tomura, who’s just entering the living room, shoulder knocking against his superior’s.

“See you tomorrow,” he mumbles gruffly as an explanation, keeping his head down as his speed increases.

Tomura turns to watch him go, dark eyes glaring at his back until he rounds the corner, completely out of sight. Frowning, he turns back toward you, scarlet eyes sharp as they study your face. A sigh slips from between his lips, heavy and ridden with stress as his both his hands cup your cheeks, thumbs running across the clammy skin.

“What happened?” And his voice is so gentle, so loving, that it causes another fresh wave of tears to invade your eyes.

Blinking rapidly, you shake your head. “Oh. We, um, we had a fight…”

“Fucking Christ, again? Does this mean you’re getting another goddamn kitten?”

You laugh a little and Tomura’s eyes soften, tense shoulders relaxing just a bit, knuckles caressing the curve of your face before smoothing your hair back.

“No,” you shake your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I think we, uh, resolved it. He just…He just needs some time to cool off, that’s all,”

He regards you skeptically, eyes narrowed like he doesn’t fully believe you, but you urge him not to push it.

Everything’s fine, you’re saying as you sniffle and wipe at your eyes hastily, clearing them of leftover tears. “I’m okay, Daddy, I promise,”

     ✰          ✰          ✰

You don’t talk about it. Not the next morning, or the day after that, or the week after that. It’s completely forgotten, erased, ignored, to the point where it has you questioning if it even happened at all—emotions were elevated that night, and your memory becomes fuzzier with each passing day. You should feel guilty, you think, and you do sometimes, but Tomura barely notices, because Tomura’s barely around anymore.

Dabi doesn’t allow himself to think about it, will not allow himself to think about it. No, it’s just better to forget about it entirely. He’s sure you didn’t mean it, didn’t mean to kiss him back; sure that you were simply seeking comfort in something, anything that you could that night. Besides, tensions have been high lately, and you’ve both been on edge, and he doesn’t want to cause any problems, doesn’t want you to get in trouble, so he simply acts as if it never happened.

It’s effortless around you, easy to ignore the incident entirely, to wipe it from his memory. But the nights are different, vivid images invading his head without his permission; memories of how soft your lips were, the way you tasted, the way you nipped at his bottom lip as fingers tangled in his shirt, trying desperately to bring him closer, flashing through his mind over and over again as he fists his cock, thinking about the soft little sounds he pulled from you with that kiss alone.

No, neither of you talk about it.

Because it’s just easier to pretend, right? That’s all the three of you have been doing, is playing pretend, isn’t it? Pretending that everything’s fine, that everything’s normal, pretending that Dabi’s heart doesn’t begin to immediately rip itself to pieces when he sees you all marked up, claimed, Tomura’s name written across your entire body in vibrant blotches of purple and blue; pretending traitorous heat doesn’t flare in your stomach every time you see him, when his back muscles flex under those trademark white tees, or when his voice drops, gets all rough and hoarse in the middle of the night or the early morning; pretending that Tomura has no idea what’s going on, no idea what’s brewing while he’s away at work, trying in vain to keep himself put together just barely, just enough as he takes over a multi-billion dollar business.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

“Three weeks?” he deadpans, staring at his father from across the long boardroom table.

His father nods, meeting his son’s gaze levelly. “To discuss overseas distributors. The Americans are very interested in the products we’re developing—you’ll be bringing samples with you.”

“I can’t,” he responds simply, shaking his head. “Get someone else to do it. I can’t leave her for that long. I can’t,”

“Tomura, as head of this organization, you have to—”

“I can’t!”

He can’t, because he’s still receiving them—letters, pictures, fucking phone calls—recounting your day in excruciating detail. They’re watching you, stalking you, have eyes on your every move, nearly compelling Tomura to just lock you up, somewhere deep and dark, safe and hidden, somewhere his, and throw away the fucking key.

“They’re trying to put pressure on you, to stress you out,” Kurogiri tries to explain as Tomura roughly rakes his fingers through silvery-blue tufts after receiving a particularly distressing call describing in brutal detail how they’re going to murder you—not how they’d like to, how they’re going to—tearing out strands with the action.

“They’re trying to break you,” Chisaki corrects. “I wouldn’t doubt that she’s truly in danger, though,”

“Is there really nothing we can fucking do?” Frenzied ruby eyes snap towards his father, glare so fierce it could incinerate him in an instant.

“We’re doing all we can to trace the—”

“Well, you’re clearly not doing enough!” Tomura explodes, tightly curled fists slamming down against the boardroom table with enough force to make it shudder.

“No one’s going to touch her, Tomura,” Kurogiri reassures gently. “She’s got the best security around, and you know Dabi would never let anyone get near her,” An involuntary growl sounds deep in his chest at the mention of his name, but Kurogiri perseveres. “She’s perfectly safe,”

     ✰          ✰          ✰

He doesn’t call, doesn’t even wait until he gets home to tell you in person—if he even is coming home tonight—no, you receive it as a fucking text message.

Dabi can tell something is wrong, the moment you look down at your phone and your expression drops, face clouding over, teeth gritting and brows pushing together.

“You good?” he asks after a moment, when your expression doesn’t change, eyes still glaring at the screen of your phone.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” you look up, giving him a small smile, though your voice is slightly higher than normal. “I’m fine,”

He knows you aren’t, but he doesn’t press either way. Yet there’s something in your eye, a look he’s not quite sure he’s ever seen before, is it…sadness? No, no it’s different from the look you gave him that one day on the campus parking lot.

Anger?

He spends too much time thinking about it—way too much time contemplating it, mulling over it in his head, brain spurting question after question much too loudly (Why are you mad? What was on your phone? Did he do something? Why does he even fucking care?)

But then his phone is buzzing, bringing him back to the present, has him hastily checking it and cursing under his breath, leaping up from the couch.

He has to leave, he tells you as he walks towards the door, you trailing behind. He’ll only be gone for an hour, tops, he promises.

“Why?”

“Work stuff,” he lies easily. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll only be downstairs,”

A small frown mars your face, lips tugging down at the corners as your brow furrows. Work stuff? Tomura would never authorize him to leave you alone, even for a moment, so what work stuff could this possibly be? “But…Does Tomura know?”

“No,” Dabi says firmly, actions halting as his eyes bore into yours. “And I’d like it to stay that way,”

Your eyes narrow slightly. “Can I come?”

“Absolutely not. Why do you think I just told you I’m leaving, stupid? You’ll stay here, like a good little girl, sit pretty for me until I get back, yeah?”

A sneer materializes on your face, chest beginning to burn with a toxic mixture of annoyance and fury. You can’t stand when he imitates Tomura like that, imitates your relationship like that, trivializing and patronizing and just plain mean.

Dabi doesn’t give you a second to respond, though, glancing down as his phone begins vibrating in his hand before dashing out the door.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

He doesn’t look like an undercover detective, not with his jaded honey eyes and untamed golden hair, a carefree smile ever-present on his face, or his expressive nature, overpriced watch glinting in the late afternoon sun as his hands move while he talks.

But Dabi plays dumb, plays stupid, decides to play this little game with him because he’s bored, he needs a distraction. He already knows about the ongoing investigation into their company—the one the Tokyo PD thinks they’re keeping so quiet, doing so inconspicuously—finds it amusing that they think they’re being so slick, so sly—so why not do the same, beat them at their own game and try to pry some information out of their precious new detective?

He’s young, too young by most standards, to be working for the PD, full stop. But he’s apparently some sort of prodigy, which makes him enticing, exciting, piquing Dabi’s interest and has him idly wondering how long it’ll take him to break this golden boy.

He introduces himself as Hawks and begins rattling off some well-rehearsed bullshit about why he’s there, why he wants to work as a recruiter on the streets and how he’d be an asset to the company, although Dabi already knows his real name, has already completed an extensive background check on the guy, unable to stop the soft snort and crooked smirk his lips quirk up into as he nods along, hoping he looks at least a little genuine.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

     ✰          ✰          ✰

The penthouse is quiet when he returns, sapphire eyes sweeping the space as he searches for you. You’re not where he left you—textbook laying open and abandoned on the kitchen island, and he almost misses the uncapped bottle of pills—his uncapped bottle of pills—sitting next to your textbook.

Almost.

“Jesus Christ, no,” he breathes to himself as his eyes dart around the penthouse again, more frantically this time.

No. No, you would never—right? You’d never be so stupid to—

“Dabi!” your head pops up from behind the couch, a big smile decorating your face as you leap towards him. “You’re back! I missed you, missed you a lot, you know,”

He knows, the instant he’s close enough to see your eyes, that something is very, very wrong. Pupils blown and eyes glazed, you look up at him in a manner that’s almost adoring, blinking at him a few times and rocking on the balls of your feet.

“What the fuck did you do?” his voice is trembling, from anger or from fear, he isn’t sure which, his heart beginning to pound in his chest.

“I took some of those pretty blue pills you’re always shoving down your throat,” you say simply, laughing a little.

For a moment, he’s entirely speechless, his brain short-circuiting as that sentence leaves your lips because no, there’s no way, you’d never do something so reckless, so ridiculous, never.

Except you did.

Then he’s seizing your body, large hands wrapping around your shoulders as he brings his face close to yours, a snarl ripping from his chest. God-fucking-damn it, he leaves you for two seconds, two seconds!, and comes back to find you high off your ass?

“Was definitely longer than two seconds, silly,”

“How many did you take?” he’s asking quickly, urgently, frenzied eyes searching your face as his fingers dig into your shoulders, shaking you a little. “How many?”

“Ow,” you whine, pouting. “You’re hurting me, Dabi,”

“I don’t care, you little brat, how many did you fucking take?”

His breath’s starting to come quicker now, and if you were sober, you’d probably think he’s on the verge of a panic attack. But you’re still pouting at him, eyebrows furrowed, mumbling about how it still hurts before finally answering his question.

“Ummm, jus’one,” you slur, giggling a little. “I think,”

“You think?” he growls, reaction causing you to flinch away.

“Yeah,” your pout returns, and you struggle in his grasp. “But I had like, a shot o’tequila or somethin’, too,”

“You what!?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “But I feel good,” giggles start bubbling up past your lips again. “Real good. Is this why you’re always taking them, Daaaabi?”

“I could fucking murder you right now,” he breathes out, cobalt eyes blazing.

“Mmm, but you won’t,” you hum, a teasing lilt to your voice. “I know you won’t, because then my Daddy would kill you,” your speaking very matter-of-factly, nodding your head slowly, as if you’re revealing new information to him, as if he doesn’t already fucking know this.

“Fucking Christ,” he sighs, eyes closing tightly against the migraine he can feel beginning to build behind his eyes. “C’mon, we gotta get you to bed,”

“Bed?” you question, planting your feet as hard as you can when he starts to drag you by your wrist. “But m’not tired,”

“I don’t care,” Dabi snaps, looking over his shoulder to glare at you and giving your wrist another hard yank, one that has your face screwing up in pain as you whine loudly, complaining about how much it hurt.

“No, Daaaabi, I don’t wanna go t’bed,” you claw at the hand he has wrapped tightly around your wrist, shaking your head with vehemence.

“And I don’t care,” he growls, hand squeezing you hard enough to make you yelp. “You need to sleep this off,”

A soft, cute humph sounds from your chest as you sigh, trying your best to plant your feet again. But Dabi’s bigger than you, stronger than you, and he’s able to pull your body along behind him no matter how hard you resist.

“Well then, if I have to, are you coming, too?”

Your words have him stopping dead in his tracks, dropping your wrist immediately, like your skin burned him, and you bump right into his back with a soft oof. He whirls around quickly, sapphire eyes wide.

“What?”

“Are you gonna come to bed with me?” you repeat, pout deepening. “C’mon, Dabi, don’t make me go to bed alone,”

He doesn’t know what to say, sputtering a little as he tries to come up with an answer, words failing him spectacularly.

“No, princess, I-I—”

“Well, that’s no fair, then,” you glare at him, forehead crinkling. “Y’wanna know what else is unfair?” you drawl, lidded eyes scanning his face in a manner that’s almost rabid. “How stupidly pretty you are. I mean, God, how the heck am I supposed to not wanna sit on your face all the time when you look like that,”

His entire body stiffens the moment the words leave your mouth, blood rushing in his ears so loudly it drowns out whatever you said next. He can’t seem to get enough oxygen into his lungs, can’t seem to inhale at all, as he stares at you, eyes boring into yours. You blink back at him curiously, head tilting to the side cutely.

“What?”

He chokes on the word, pretty sure it’s so garbled that you barely understand it, indicated by the way your brow furrows and you squint a little, thinking hard.

The front door slams shut, startling both of you and drawing your wide eyes towards the sound. Tomura stands motionless in the foyer, crimson eyes intently studying the scene he just walked in on.

“What’s going on?”

Oh, Christ, no.

He’s home earlier than usual, because of fucking course he is, because why the hell wouldn’t he be, on the one day you decide to do something so unthinkably stupid. Your entire face hardens the moment you meet his gaze, arms crossing over your chest tightly, hip popping out as your foot taps against the floor.

It’d be cute, if you didn’t look like you were actually upset. But Dabi can feel it in the air around you, a sudden flash of white-hot fury radiating off your body the moment Tomura enters the penthouse.

“What’s with that look?” he’s asking slowly as he advances, loosening his tie. “Hmm?”

“I’m mad at you,”

He laughs a little. “Mad at me? Are you now?”

“Yeah, you asshole,” you spit, the drugs surging through your veins gifting you with a little artificial courage.

All traces of amusement disintegrate from Tomura’s face the moment the words leave your lips, dark eyes flashing at the blatant disrespect.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” he’s growling, pace quickening until he’s right in front of you, gripping your chin between his thumb and index finger in a grasp hard enough to have you crying out as he forces your head up more, tilting your face towards his.

His breath is coming out in harsh, erratic exhales through flared nostrils, scarlet eyes searching your face for a moment, his gaze cutting into your skin, before his expression begins to fall. You watch, still defiant, as it morphs from anger, to confusion, to terror, and then back to anger.

“What the hell did you take?” He’s speaking lowly now, in a voice that forces a chill up your spine.

“Dabi’s—”

He doesn’t even let you finish the sentence, moves in a flash, nothing but blurs of red and black and silver slicing through the air, before he’s got Dabi shoved up against the glass of the window, a trembling hand fisted in his t-shirt.

“Care to tell me how the fuck she got her hands on your roxys?”

His voice is cold, quiet, dangerous, and he glowers at Dabi, molars grinding together when Dabi heaves out a heavy sigh, raking both hands through his hair.

“I left her—”

“You left her!?”

“—For like, an hour!” Dabi spits out defensively, jerking himself out of Tomura’s grasp. “Christ, Tomura, she’s a motherfucking adult, she should be fine on her own for a mere sixty minutes! Besides, I was just downstairs, and it’s not like your penthouse doesn’t have insane fucking security anyway,”

“I cannot believe—” he’s starting to say, both hands coming to scratch viciously at his neck, when you cut him off.

“Oh no, don’t even start with him,” you seethe, Tomura turning his icy glare on you, eyes instantly snapping to your face as you speak. “Leave Dabi alone, Tomura. You don’t get to be mad at him!”

“Excuse me?” he blinks incredulously.

“You heard me!” your voice is rising now, hands curling into quivering little fists, but you can’t stop, the words continuing to tumble out of your mouth, stinging your tongue as venomous anger eats away at your chest. “If anyone should be in trouble here, it’s you!”

“Me?” he questions, eyebrows raised in surprise, a sharp smile painted across his face that’s anything but friendly, that has your stomach twisting painfully, that sends spears of terror shooting up your spine.

“Yes, you, you jackass!” you shout, tears beginning to collect in your eyes. “New York? Three weeks!?  I-I barely fucking see you anymore! I…I…I might as well be dating him!” you jab a trembling finger in Dabi’s direction.

Everything stops the moment you utter those words, hanging heavy in the air around you, your little sniffles the only sound echoing throughout the penthouse. Dabi thinks he can almost see them, wrapping around your bodies and squeezing until they suffocate you all. Tomura’s body has gone rigid, and he’s staring at you oddly, face contorted in a way you’ve never seen before, like he’s having immense trouble comprehending what you just said. But then something snaps, just a moment later, eyebrows knitting together as his lips press into a firm line and expression transforming into one of pure rage, one you’ve only seen a handful of times, one that turns your blood to ice in your veins.

“What the fuck did you just say to me, you little bitch?”

“No!” Dabi shouts, lunging forward to catch Tomura’s wrist and hold him back. Tomura halts the moment Dabi touches him, looking down at the hand wrapped around his arm in disgust before his gaze drifts to Dabi’s, eyes narrowing as if to ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing.

Dabi drops his grip immediately, chest rising and falling rapidly as he forces the words out of his mouth. “She’s high off her ass right now, man,”

Both men glance towards you, noting your glassy, dazed eyes, chest hiccupping with half-sobs as you stare back at them, equal parts confused and upset.

“She only did this as a cry for attention, as a last resort, can’t you see that?” he continues in a rush, urgency bleeding into his voice, eyes darting frantically between Tomura’s face and yours.

Conveniently, it’s then that your words finally catch up with your jaded brain, the weight of the situation crashing over you, and you gasp suddenly, clapping both hands over your mouth as more tears stream down your face, flowing steadily.

“I didn’t—” a fierce hiccup cuts you off. “I didn’t mean it Daddy, I swear. N-Not like that, no, not like that at all. I just—I don’t wanna date him, I wanna date you, it just feels like I’m—”

Tomura cuts you off with a spiteful sneer, chest heaving and body shaking with fury as blunt nails rake against the skin of his neck, scratching it raw.

“Fine,” he pants, looking between the two of you. “You wanna act like a fucking brat? Fine. You’re coming,” Ruby eyes snap to Dabi. “Both of you.”

[leaderoffestivals]

Hidden Beast: Twilight Claw Marks Chapter 2, 2nd Half

Season: Autumn (After Antique Legend) Author(s): Kino Seitaro (assisted by Akira) Characters: Madara, Rei (for this part only)

<Meanwhile, at that time. In the courtyard of the Starmony Dorms>

Madara: Good afternoooooon! I've just received the report from the Information Bureau, Rei-san!

I didn’t expect to be so happy to receive a request from you after sooo long ♪ I’m ten times more motivated for this compared to all the troublesome tasks that Ibara-san makes me do, you knowww! ☆

Rei: Mikejima-kun. Could you be a little quieter?

Whenever you're nearby, it feels as if the number of suns in the sky has increased to two, and that’s very hard on this old body of mine.

Madara: I beg your pardon! It’s just that I've been dealing with sooooo many complicated and tortuous matters lately. There haven't been many opportunities to report to work in a cheerful way, so my voice has become much louder than before!

It would be nice if all work was cheerful and fun just like how it was during the Succession Match, riiight?

Rei: Yes, but that is a choice that you would have to make on your own. I don't think you'll listen to anything I have to say on this matter, though. You can continue doing whatever you want, as long as it doesn't affect me.

Leaving that aside,… So, this is the report. Let's take a look at it.

… I see. As expected of my successor, you’re very skilled at what you do ♪

Hmm, I see. The identity of the moneylender is a man from the entertainment industry who lends money in that circle, taking the borrower’s ‘fame’ as collateral, huh?

If the borrower’s repayment falls into arrears, they'll have a gossip reporter publish the fact that they borrowed the money. ... So this arrangement is why a lot of money can be lent on credit without worrying that the borrower would default on the loans?

It would have been a big deal if this guy was connected to the underworld. However, I'm relieved to hear that he has no supporters from that side.

Madara: Hahaha. Since it was a request from Rei-san, I thought the villain would be some big bad guy—but since this is such a small-time villain, you won’t have to depend on me after aaall.

However, if you want, I can blackmail this loan shark to make sure that he doesn’t do this ever again?

Rei: No. That would make our drama unsustainable. I can’t let you get your hands dirty over this—it’s time for you to leave this issue alone.

So, thank you, Mikejima-kun. Thanks to you, we now have a clearer idea of what to do.

Madara: Far-sighted and always thinking ahead as ever, Rei-san! You say that like you knew what you had to do all along, didn’t you?

It seems like Rei-san has already investigated the situation and only wanted to see how I would respond. If that's the case, you've done something interestiiing ♪

Rei: Kukuku. Don’t read too much into it. I was merely borrowing your investigative skills.

And since we are here, I wanted to remind you... Don't make the Little Miss too sad, Mikejima-kun. (1)

If I see that you go too far, then I will not stay silent. Don't you ever forget that.

Madara: Hmmmm. So that was what Rei-san was using me for…

I'd be nice to Anzu-san if I could, but—

It would have ended up this way sooner or later.

Madara: Anyway, I guess I'll leave now that I’ve served my purpose. Let's talk together happily as colleagues next time, Rei-san. ♪

Rei: …You’re a difficult man, Mikejima-kun.

However, now with this, we have proof. Now all we have to do, is put it into action.

It's a bit rough around the edges, but I'm sure it'll lead the shoot in the right direction. ... ♪

---------------------------------------------------------

Translator’s Notes:

This is set after Antique Legend, so Rei is referencing the aftermath of the back stage scene in the Epilogue, after Madara went, “Good night, good-bye, Producer-san.” to Anzu. And there’s Myriad of Colours and Flowers after that. So for people to be talking like this to Madara is ‪🫤‬.

Madara’s 3☆ story “As an Elder” is probably set after this. 

It is unproofed. If you spot any mistakes, please PM me. 

[holylulusworld]

Livin' on a Prayer (snippet)

Summary: You and your bad boy try to find a way to live on more than a prayer.

Pairing: AU!Dean x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, daddy!Dean (in the beginning), money problems, fluff, Dean is willing to do anything for his girl

Written for @deanwanddamons​ ‘Rock SPN flash fan fic challenge‘. My song was ‘Livin’ on a prayer by Bon Jovi. Lyrics are taken from the song. I changed one word (she -> he) to match my story.

A/N: This is a snippet to Trouble. It’s set between ‘Trouble (1) and Double Trouble (3) after Y/N left with Dean. In the beginning it’s set five years after the Epilogue.

Catch up here: Trouble Masterlist 

Now… (takes time around five years after the Epilogue)

“Dean jr., Sofia Louise, Bobby John,” you call for your kids, sighing deeply. “Dean, tell your kids not to chase their Uncle Sammy,” you scold.

Dean laughs, shaking his head while his brother calls for help. Your children decided it’s time to capture Sam and cut his shaggy hair.

You assume the idea came from your devilish grinning husband, not your innocently smiling children.

“Nah, let them have fun,” Dean snickers, tears rolling down his cheeks as he can’t stop laughing. “They are so good at making trouble. Like father, like kids.”

“DEAN!”

“WHAT?” you giggle, nodding at your kids when Sam calls your name. “The scissors are not sharp, sweetheart,” Dean whispers, not wanting for Sam to hear he would never let his kids run around with sharp scissors. 

“Aw, you’re such a good dad,” swooning you sit on Dean’s thigh, arms wrapped around his neck seconds later. “Did you imagine we would end up in a perfect house, with a white-picked fence and three kids we call our own?”

“Yeah-“ he whispers, pecking your lips. “I mean, we had bad times too. When I think back at the times we barely knew how to pay for food, I can’t believe that we made it this far.”

“Did I ever tell you how proud I am to call you my husband? It was you getting us through the rough times, Dean…only you…”

(Once upon a time)

(Not so long ago)

Then… (around five months after you left your stepfather’s house)

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Dean pecks your hair, holds you gently while you cry in his arms. “I know it’s a tough time, but we are going to make it. I know we are going to make it. You’ll finish your study and I’ll get to fulfill my dreams too.

He says, we've gotta hold on to what we've got

It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not

We got each other and that's a lot for love

We'll give it a shot

“How can you still have faith?” you sniffle, just listening to his heartbeat for a moment. “You got fired and I, I barely make enough money to pay for food. We hit the bottom, Dean.”

“I got an idea,” Dean gives you a cracked smile when you lift your head to meet his gaze. “Do you remember the dude who wanted to by the Impala? I called him and he offered me two thousand more.

“NO!” you protest, fisting Dean’s shirt. “You are not going to sell Baby. She’s a part of this family! You love the car, Dean.”

“I do, but it’s just a car, baby girl,” it pains Dean to say the words. Everyone knows he loves his car, but to pay for your study and rent he’s willing to give Baby up. “It was you or the car and I chose you, Y/N. I can buy a new one in no time, promised.”

“I said no, Dean,” wrapping your arms around his neck you close your eyes. “I talked to the University. I’m going to take a year off if needed. That’s no problem at all. I’ll go back when I found a better job and you fulfilled your dream.”

Wooah

We're half way there

Woah-oh

Livin' on a prayer

Take my hand, we'll make it, I swear

Woah-oh

Livin' on a prayer

“I promise, everything is going to be alright, sweetheart. You will take a month off, not more. Bobby Singer offered a job to me. It will take some time, but I got faith in us,” Dean whispers, running his hand over your hair, gently patting your head. 

“I can work extra shifts at the diner. Susan will retire in a few days and we got no one to replace her yet. I’ll do it and you, you can focus on Bobby and the new job,” kissing Dean softly you cup his face, cradling it to hold his gaze. “I have faith in us too, Dean. Always and forever, my bad boy.”

“Always and forever, sweetheart…”

We've gotta hold on to what we've got

It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not

We got each other and that's a lot for love

We'll give it a shot

Wooah

We're half way there

Woah-oh

Livin' on a prayer

Take my hand, we'll make it I swear

Woah-oh

Livin' on a prayer

Livin' on a prayer

Oooh, we gotta hold on, ready or not

You live for the fight when that's all that you've got

 Wooah

We're half way there

Woah-oh

Livin' on a prayer

Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear

Woah-oh

Livin' on a prayer

Text Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Tags in reblog.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: January 28th, 2021 (Part 1)

And we’re back with many more ask answers! Thank you for waiting.

Is lizzie/the main character tripping over a rock a random event in barbecue? or does it require certain choices? i picked the same choices in multiple different playthroughs but ended up with three different outcomes (1. nothing happens 2. liz trips 3. i trip)

Yep! It’s completely random. Just a little moment of life you don’t have control over, haha.

wait just double checking you stated that derek would be another romantic interest you can pursue in step 4 right??? im just asking cuz hes my fav character 

oh wait and btw i was the one that asked the question about derek being in the step 4 just now, and will you have to pay extra for like a dlc or something bc i play the free version rn and i just wanted to check!! 

Yeah, you will eventually be able to romance him, but unfortunately it is a paid DLC. Cove is the only love interest who’s entirely free-to-play. You can  follow our social media for when we giveaways for a chance to win a key for it, though.

i know that y’all said the step 3 dlc and step 4 will be released early 2021, is there any update to that? for example, a rough amount of days/weeks until release? no pressure at all, i’m super excited!! <3 

The Step 3 DLC will be about in maybe two-two and half months or so. Step 4, we’re not entirely sure. Maybe a few months after the Step 3. We don’t want to give set dates until we’re really close to the release since otherwise we wouldn’t be able to 100% guarantee them.

First off love the game. Second I'm a little confused on how the nsfw dlc is gonna work. Because based on some stuff you've said it sounds like a patreon only thing and others make me think it could be an itch/steam thing after the fact? Would you mind clarifying for me 😅. Also if it's a patreon only thing do you need to become one before it's released? 

It’s not going to be on Steam/Itch. The actual game of Our Life is safe for teens with no adult content. Any 18+ stuff we’re releasing is separate bonus content. Right now the only for sure plan is having it available through Patreon. If there’s another hosting site that’s not Steam or Itch that’d be easier for people than Patreon we might consider uploading it there too, but nothing else is set.

If you want the bonus Moment you’d have to join once it’s already out or sometime after the release. Joining now would get you our current rewards, but wouldn’t get you future content that’s coming later.

this is probably an awkward question and i apologize, feel free not to answer, but i just wanted to address the elephant in the room....will step 4 acknowledge covid/2020 world events?? i kind of hope not bc i'd like to just exist in a fictional version of the world where things are happy in this quaint seaside town and the world isn't falling apart, but i'd understand if there are some references to it. just thought i'd ask so i can Prepare if that makes sense

Step 4 isn’t going to include Covid or even reference it. When we set Step 4 in that year we definitely didn’t know there’d be a global pandemic during it. It’s too late to move the timeframe earlier or later, but we’re not going to make Step 4 stressful for anyone because the real world became so much more stressful. The universe of Our Life will just be an even more idealized place than it was before.

hiiiii! i'm really sorry if this is a bother. i was just curious if cove has a canon setting for each step, like is it canon that he stays candid the whole game and is super sporty for instance and the rest are variations? thank you for your time!

None of those settings are canon. They’re all equally valid.

I love the game and Cove so much that I ended up spending most of the holidays playing it. Definitely worth it! Idk if you're taking suggestions/criticisms, but I chose the peach skin tone and seeing it written as "my peach skin" in the game broke immersion for me because I kept thinking it was referring to the fruit instead of my skin color. I think that skin color is most commonly referred to as "fair" but "peachy" or "rosy" would work too if you're looking for a different word 

Thank you for sharing your experience. We’ll change it to “peachy” in the next update!

So I accidentally overwrote a save file with a different one, is there any way I can recover that save? 

Sadly, there isn’t. Not unless you had a backup of the actual save file files in a separate location you can get. I’m really sorry. You can try using the skip feature to quickly speed through the game and get back to where you were though.

Do you try to maintain the color scheme for the clothing throughout the years in Our Life? 

Yes, though in hindsight not as much as I wished I did, haha. It could’ve been a little more cohesive. It was a bit too broad in my opinion.

I noticed that Cliff mentions he wasn’t much older than Cove before finding out he was going to be a father when he finds MC in bed with Cove during Part 3 so doesn’t that Cliff and Kyra were teenage/young parents? 

Yeah, Cliff was nineteen and Kyra was eighteen when Cove was born. They were just a couple of kids.

Does Cove have a favourite holiday? 

It changes depending on the year. Around Step 1 he’s not a huge fan of a lot of holidays because he’s not together with his whole family for them. But once he’s older and Kyra comes around more, he starts appreciating major family holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas more than other holidays because he knows how it feels not to have that. Though summer vacation is of course his most favorite all the time, if that counts as a “holiday”.

I tried to join your patreon but I can’t seem to? The website keeps saying something went wrong and to try again. 

I’m sorry you’re having trouble! I think contacting Patreon support would probably be the best option if the joining process itself is having issues.

How much is it to become a part of your Patreon? I don’t have a lot of money currently but would love to help you out more than just buying the games and dlcs. 

Aw, I appreciate you wanting to support but the Patreon is really optional. You don’t need to push yourself to join if you don’t have extra funds for it. To still answer the question, the tiers are $1, $5, $10, $15, and $20 in USD. Each come with different perks.

I had this idea for a future daughter for the MC and Cove being named "Poppy", after the flowers on their hill~

That’s a really sweet idea! I’m sure Cove would be a fan.

So if you don't mind me asking, how do you get Cove to propose to you in Step 4 and not the other way around? 

I’m afraid that’d be too big of a spoiler to give away before the epilogue’s release, at least in terms of specifics. Generally you’ll just have to be patient and try not to propose first, haha.

will we get to move in with cove in step 4 😮?? or is that a secret 

You can be living together with Cove in Step 4! Though you wouldn’t get to see the place itself. That’s up to your imagination.

Is it bad that I'm completely in love with Cove's dad... What I gotta pay to romance Cliff 😭 (I don't mean as Jamie because that would be wack) 

That’ll cost one million 20 twenty dollar bills, haha. I’m really glad you like him, though sadly we aren’t able to make a separate game where you can romance Cliff. I wish we had enough time to make tons of new scenes/extra stories in the Our Life world, but it just takes too long. Maybe people will make fanworks about it.

—–

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog  

[the-silentium]

Murphy day Pt. 4

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 -  Epilogue

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 3480 words.

Warnings: Medical stuff without much detail. 

A/N: YAY last chapter of this series! This was a lot of fun! Hope you guys stay tuned for more Bad Batch fics! Don’t forget to leave comments, always much appreciated!

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

At first, you felt numb. It felt like your mind was wandering around, completely separated from your body. Where you should be feeling your hands and feet, there was only nothingness, a way too cold nothingness. 

Then the soreness poked at the corner of your brain, slowly assaulting your nerves, crawling up your body until all you could feel was a mass of terribly aching limbs. A constant discomfort deep within your throat prompted you to cough it out to relieve yourself of the nagging feeling, the weak attempts miserably failing to alleviate the sensation of something invading your throat. 

As you tried to raise a hand to rub at your neck, you realized that something was keeping it down. Something warm. And tight. 

Like Tech's hand when he was pulling you away from the predator on your tail. Or when he was dangling in the air on the verge of death, the only thing keeping him from disappearing into the abyss being your fingers clutching his hand. 

Fear flooded your system, fighting the exhaustion paralyzing your limbs. Your hand closed around the warm soft object in your grip, your hold tightening despite the pain radiating from your fingers. You couldn't let go. He would die. Your friend would die. 

You didn't hear the yelp over the frenetic heartbeat booming in your ears, your closed eyes projecting you directly to that day when the dark sky offered the perfect camouflage to the draconic reptile. He was concealed in the dark, waiting for you to drop your guard. No. He was waiting for you to drop Tech so he could feast on his flesh. 

Your eyes flew open in terror as the hand in yours slipped slightly, your fist crushing it with all your might to keep it secure. 

The unexpected brightness brings tears to your eyes, the first droplets falling down your cheeks before a familiar figure invaded your personal space, his other hand flying to your shoulder in a comforting grip. 

His lips were moving, trying to tell you something that you couldn't hear over the hammering of your heart or your quick breathing or the hectic beeping sound on your left. 

Lifting your head a little, pain exploded behind your eyes, forcing your head back down immediately. Your eyes moved to your hand, still imprisoning another's in its vice grip. The sight made you relax slightly. You'd not dropped him. 

Before your attention could return to the person hovering above you, his hand on your shoulder retreated as someone else took his place from your other side, a total stranger that looked oddly familiar in some way. He moved quickly around you, talking to you while putting something terribly cold onto your chest multiple times before removing something taped to your face and removing the thing down your throat. 

You coughed as you felt the thing move out, more tears leaking down your face at the effort. 

"You're okay Y/N." You finally heard, your mind concentrating on what was around instead of yourself. "You're okay." He repeated in case you still didn't hear him, his other hand returning to your shoulder. 

His dark locks seemed even wilder than they were in the jungle, although they weren't slick with sweat and rain anymore. His armor was off, leaving him in a black skin fitted suit that allowed you to appreciate just perfectly fit he was beneath all that composite. His tattoo was still intriguing, but his eyes reminded you too much of someone else to let yourself wander about how soft the ink would feel beneath your fingertips. 

"T-" You coughed at the roughness of your throat, increasing the pulsing feeling into your skull. 

"Don't talk yet." Hunter chided, getting closer as the other man moved around, checking machines and bags disposed all around you. Where was water when you needed it?

"Tech's fine. All he got was a bruised hand." His gaze moved to your joined hands on the bed. "No wonder. You've got a hell of a grip." 

Your eyes widen in realization that you were still clutching him in a terribly tight grasp, pain erupting from your white fingers as soon as you relaxed the tension. 

He shook his hand once before massaging his digits to resume the blood flow. He turned to you, all traces of pain washed off his face, relief, and exhaustion taking its place. 

"You scared us all to death, you know that?" 

You frowned, unsure as to why. 

"Tech said that the fall should have been fatal." It clicked in your head, your fall replaying back in your head, the air hitting you full force, your stomach on the verge of your lips, the screams resonating in your ears. 

"Somehow, you survived the fall and we took you to the closest GAR medical outpost." 

You frowned, looking around to the room but were interrupted by a light flashing directly into your eyes. You blinked, surprised but tried to maintain them open for the apparent exam. 

"Follow the light." The doctor softly instructed, obliging as he moved the light from right to left. He nodded in approval. "Does it hurt somewhere?"

You nodded slowly, a finger pointing at your head the best you could with your stiff joints. 

"Your head?" You nodded in confirmation. 

"Your pilot will be monitored closely for a while. As of now, her vitals are good and I'll give her something for the pain." He addressed Hunter, the latter nodding in understanding. Your head tilted to the side, your eyebrows dipped in a frown. Pilot? "Keep her rested, no moving around like the other one." He finished on a disapproving tone and pointed look, pressed some buttons on a machine right beside you, and left the room when Hunter promised to keep you in bed. 

"We had to pass you as our pilot so you could be treated here, so play the game." He whispered when the doctor exited the room and turned to meet your confused face.

Your eyes widened, quickly shaking your head because you don't know shit about ships! What if someone asked you about stuff GAR related? Hissing, you abruptly stopped, your head spinning and hurting. 

"Stop that. You may have survived but you had a severe concussion, some internal injuries, broke an arm, a few ribs, and have lots and lots of bruises." His eyes roamed your face, analyzing the different colors painting your skin, although you couldn't care less because your eyes caught the cast enveloping your right arm. 

You were fucked. You'd never be able to go home and act like you didn't go out on Murphy day. You'll get punished, your life will become more miserable, people will avoid you even more than they already did. Maybe they'll quick you out of the village! 

Your face must have shown your panic or maybe it was the fact that the beeping sound accelerated along with your heartbeat, but Hunter got closer, his hand reaching for your shoulder once more. 

"What's wrong?" 

"T-" You coughed before clearing your throat. Your mouth felt like it was full of sand, but you had to get it out. "They'll know-" You winced. "-I was out." 

"Well. I'm sure they know by now." He looked sheepish, scratching the back of his head like that, almost uncomfortable to tell you some precious information. "You've been out for a bit less than a month." 

"A month?!" You choked, eyes widening in shock. This couldn't be possible. He must have hit his head too.

"You're awake!" The door to your room opened swiftly, letting inside the rest of the batch, all without armor. Tech hurried to your side first, taking your bruised hand in his and staring at you like he couldn't believe it. 

"I am." You answered in a daze, still distracted by the fact that you missed a month. 

"You should be dead." He whispered in awe. 

"Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence." You coughed as Hunter called his brother, horrified. 

"No, I mean… I'm happy that you're alive! All I'm saying is that you had a 50% chance to die from a 48 feet high fall. But headfirst?! Your chances were close to none!"

You gulped. "Cool?" 

"He should be thanking you instead of telling you all that." Hunter pointed out, a hard look on his face directly focussed on his little brother. 

"Thanks," Said brother whispered, his free hand scratching his neck in shame. "for saving my life. Twice." 

"No thanks needed. You'd have done the same." You moved your hand so you could give him a comforting squeeze. 

"Sarge told you you'd survive the day Y/N!" Wrecker approached from Hunter's side, happiness lacing his voice. 

"And I told you guys would give me your bad lu-" Your smile disappeared as soon as you took in the bandages covering his naked chest. Some patches of exposed skin were tainted from a sick yellow to some dark green, worrying you to no end. 

"What happened to you?" You croaked, coughing when your voice raised in pitch. 

"There." You heard Crosshair’s low voice before a cup appeared in front of you. 

"I don't think she shoul-" 

"I want it!" You hurried out of breath, cutting Tech before anyone could think about following his instructions. 

Taking the cup from Crosshair's hand, Hunter approached it to your hand not attached to a cast. 

"Good to do it yourself?" 

"I'll try." You shrugged, fighting past the exhaustion in your bone to lift your hand to the white carton cup, only for it to burn up all your energy. "Shit."

The good point was that whatever the doctor gave you was working perfectly, the throbbing in your head was gone and the pulsing in your hand as well. 

"Here." The cup reached your lips and very slowly, Hunter tilted it to appease your thirst without drowning you in the process. You would have been mortified at the idea of being helped like this, but in this very precise situation, all you could think of was drink. 

Lie. This is not sweet! Bacterias! You almost spit it out by reflex but remembered at the last second that they surely wouldn't give you undrinkable water. It was difficult, but you forced yourself to swallow. 

Once satisfied, you lifted your head to signal to Hunter to back off. You hummed your thanks, smiling gratefully and totally ignoring the smirk Crosshair send his tattooed brother, focussing your attention on Wrecker instead. 

"What happened?" You repeated yourself. 

"The giant snake hit me with its tail." He shrugged like it was nothing. "I'm fine, don't worry. I've survived worse!" 

You stared him up and down, wondering how in the universe he could have survived that. Its tail was rock hard to allow it to move underground. There was no way- 

"What could be worse than a Basilisk wanting you for dinner?!" 

"That'll be a story for another time." A woman said from the door. "Now that you are awake we need to run some more exams." She smiled warmly at you, and you immediately knew that you liked her. "You can all come back later."

"Aw already?" You chuckled slightly at Wrecker's disappointment. 

"Unfortunately. But I promise to take good care of her for you all." She replied, entering the room to get to the machines at your side. 

"We'll be back." Hunter promised before bending to your ear, whispering cheekily, "You're a hell of a catch. Never think otherwise." Leaving you agape to follow the others out without a glance back. He didn't need to, the heart monitor told him all he needed to know. You were mortified. He had heard you by the river.

Crosshair saluted you in the doorway, Tech patted your hand, Wrecker waved and Hunter smirked before closing the door. 

"I've never seen them so worried about someone else other than the four of them. It's nice to see them opening to someone else." She smiled, noting information on her datapad. 

If only you knew… I know them for only 2 hours top.

________________________

You gulped down the last bit of your small breakfast, the tasteless bread leaving a soggy feeling in your mouth. 

You'd slept like a baby after Mylana finished to examine your cast, reflexes, and more. Your strength returned during the night, allowing you to lift your cast-free left arm to feed yourself. 

Patch, the clone doctor assigned to your case passed to assess your improvement and informed you that he'd remove the nasogastric tube so you could eat by yourself. Removing the thing was nasty, definitely something you didn't want to live again but it was worth it. Or so you thought. Because the food here was depressing compared to Fors’ vast variety of fresh fruits, meat, and vegetables. 

It was only when Patch presented himself that you realized how different the Bad Batch was from the rest of the clones. He was the very first 'normal' clone you encountered. It pushed you to think about how the batchers must have had it hard, to live in a world where everything must be identical and you're not. They had no chance to conceal it, to be themselves like all the others because they were physically different. They had no chance to try and save themselves. It was infuriating and unfair. 

"How's breakfast?" Tech asked from the door, moving uncomfortably from a foot to the other. 

"Not what I'm used to but it’s edible." You shrugged, waving him in. "Don't be a stranger, I'm your pilot after all."

Tech chuckled at that, closed the door to sit at the foot of the bed. For a while he sat there, watching his fingers, sometimes pressing them together but never facing you. 

"You don't have to apologize for anything Tech. I don't know what's bugging you, but it's fine. I'm alive." You told him honestly, surprising him. 

"I-What I said yesterday was inappropriate and I'm very sorry. It's just- I watched the recording times and times again and- Why did you let go of my hand?" He finally met your eyes offering you disbelief, confusion, sadness, and betrayal on a golden plate.

"I told you there was nothing to apologize for. I let go of your hand because I didn't want to drag you down with me." You lifted your hand when he opened his mouth to interrupt you, effectively shutting him up. "I'd do it again. Don't beat yourself over it, because it's not your fault Tech." You ended firmly, no trace of your previous amusement on your face. 

He analyzed your face for a second before averting his eyes. 

"How's your hand?" You asked, eager to fill the silence. 

"Still bruised." The corner of his lips lifted slightly as he showed you his colorful hand. "I couldn't close it at first, but it passed." He chuckled. "Oh, and I had to wash my armor at least 3 times to get rid of the phosphorescence." 

You laughed full-on before pain shot through your chest at the movement. 

"Don't make me laugh!" 

"Slept well then." Hunter entered followed by Crosshair and Wrecker with a black shirt on this time. 

"Best night of sleep I had in a while Sarge." You beamed. It was true, the life in the village was hard enough. Not because of your work, but because the incessant persecution was heavy to bear. 

"Good to hear. We came back after the exam but you were asleep." He positioned himself at the foot of the bed, letting Wrecker all the place to sit in the chair at your side. 

"Thanks for letting me sleep then!" 

"Even if we wanted to wake you, Patch would've had our asses before we even opened the door!" Wrecker laughed, stopping his poking of the fluid bag hanging near his shoulder to smile at you. 

"He just wants me to be discharged sooner than later." You batted his hand away as he resumed his movement. 

"Speaking of discharge, we'll take you back to Fors as soon as you're cleared." The playful smile fell of your face in a heartbeat. 

"Oh. Ok. Thanks." 

"What's the matter?" Crosshair approached at Hunter's question, clearly wanting to know the answer. 

"Nothing. Can't wait to go back." You faked a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, not fooling a single clone in the room.

"What is it?" The sniper inquired, surprising you that he'd care about your feelings and well, you. 

"It's just… I'm done. People know that I went out on Murphy day and they certainly think me dead right now." You explained.

"Well, they'll be happy to see that you're not." Tech tilted his head, not understanding where the problem was. 

"No one misses the village's freak. Ever. They won't throw a celebration because I'm alive, they'll kick me out for breaking the law, and because I'll attract them bad luck." 

Silence fell over the room and suddenly you felt an urge to pull on the needles in your arms and hand and run out the door to avoid the conversation and all the shame accompanying it. 

"You're not a freak." You scoffed at Wrecker, all the insults thrown at you during your life echoing in your head like a curse. 

"Wanting more than just living the life that was imposed on me at birth doesn't fit under the norms on Fors. A female having weapons is not acceptable, even less a female hunting. Working a physical job instead of stayin' at home is not exemplary. Plus, I'm still single! I told off the guy who asked for my hand after my dad died and went as far as menacing him with a knife. After that, I was pretty much a goner." You recalled painfully, hands clenching around the sheets, eyes closing in shame.

"I'm always being stared at like a freak show, pushed around by my supposed peers, thrown in the mud when possible, or let behind in a storm. Oh let's not forget that I went out on Murphy day. Now, that's the dumbest shit I've ever done but damn did it felt good to break their stupid law! I'm sure I'll be exiled at best or executed at worse." 

You finally took a deep breath in, canalizing your frustration to not take it out on the medical equipment helping you get better. The silence was heavier than before and you thought that maybe the drip Patch showed you for the episodes of pain could help you relieve some of the pressure crushing you. 

"Your planet is hell." Was all Crosshair had to say for you to smile again. 

"It is." You confirmed, eyes still closed. 

"We need a pilot." That got you to open your eyes, confused at Hunter. 

"So? I'm not a pilot. My planet doesn't even have datapads." 

"We'll train you." Tech and Wrecker were as surprised as you were, although your big friend was the most enthusiast out of the group. 

"Really Sarge?" He asked, hopeful. 

"Wo there, calm down. We've known each other for 2 hours!" You reasoned in disbelief. He couldn't possibly offer you a job, an escape route out of your misery, after walking alongside you for 2 hours more or less. "You don't know me!" 

"On the contrary, I've learned plenty in 2 hours." He countered, his serious eyes telling you that he passed his time analyzing your actions, your motives, who you were. 

It was really tempting, but you couldn't help to feel that this was rushed. It was, right?

"Freaks help each other." Crosshair added putting a stop to your doubt. They were the same as you. 

"I told you already Cross." You smirked at him. "You're not defects. Simply the improved versions of your species." You nudged his arm pressed at the foot of the bed that he was leaning on next to Hunter with your sheet covered toes. 

"You seen Patch?" He lifted an eyebrow at you, not believing that after seeing the real deal you still talked highly of them. 

"I did. Really handsome." You paused, to bit your bottom lip. "But that just means that you guys are even more handsome." He scoffed and you laughed, happy to get a smirk out of him. 

"So, wanna become a pilot?" Hunter reiterated, waiting. He seemed so patient, unbothered, but you could see it beneath the surface. He was anxious to know the answer. 

"On one condition." Held your chin high, ignoring how Wrecker's face split into a wide grin and how Tech straightened at your side. 

"Name it."

"I wanna touch that tattoo of yours." You smirked. 

Wrecker exploded in laughter, Tech blinked in incredulity until it dawned on him and his cheeks became pink from the blood rush and Crosshair simply rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the bed. 

"Deal." He smirked in turn, not once moving his eyes from your lips. 

Finally.

[hummingbird-games]

Dev Blog # 24

Hey party people, I think I’m ready to update y’all on what’s going on. Health tings, physical/mental/emotional lol, have made it difficult to stick to my personal schedule and I admit I’ve been getting super frustrated. Which as made me more tired and less able to concentrate. It’s a cycle and I need to break it. 

Sleep helps a bit! Keeping a bedtime also helps. Work stresses do not help.

HSDJY UPDATES/HOUSEKEEPING

Key art/game cover is still in progress, whoooo! It’s hilarious how busy me and my artist have both been so it’s like a game of message-tag 🤣 being an adult is something else. 

Beta testing is underway (and WOW am I learning a lot about how to better streamline the process for maximum benefits and the least amount of stress ☠️ *cues Live and Learn by Crush 40*). I knew going in that people were going to drop out, but I didn’t realize the sheer amount of people who could one day be game and the next be M.I.A. It’s terrifying. That being said, to the chosen few who have been active in helping me (special thanks to Wudge!! @herotome​) I’m simultaneously mad at you for making me do (simple) coding above my pay grade and eternally grateful that I have your assistance. This stage is a necessary step and I’m glad I’m taking it even if it’s painful AF and my brain is trying to tap out early.

...Future Gem, if you’re reading this, hire a damn programmer/coder. Put whatever money aside you need because if we have to do this again, you might not be making games no mo’...

Epilogues are being written and I’m being reminded that the writing is the most fun part for me, but not liking that I’ll have to edit...edit again...edit one more time???...code... and test the shits if I want y’all to play it after the events of the main game 🙃. At the time of this post, I have not touched the draft document in almost two weeks, half due to aforementioned busyness, and the other half is because Lydia’s section is giving me the most issues?? But I can’t jump to April (the only other unfinished part) until Lydia’s is done??? The issue is Lyd needs a new outline because personality and plot reasons, the current one I’ve been using as a template isn’t right.

In case you’re wondering, everyone is color coded in my document!. Ryan is blue, friendship is pinkish, Lydia’s green, Florence is red, April is orange, and Langston is purple!

YURI JAM ADVENTURES

My knee-jerk reaction is to put this under a read more, but we’re gonna ignore that. Deadlines where I don’t feel prepared make me anxious. The way I work, I need a completed script so I can start deciding what important things like 1) team solo?? or 2) recruit help?? and if so 3) can we slap together a budget (because ya girl has nothing to offer skill wise).

I want to share something tangible with y’all SO bad but all I have are like eight or nine outlines and their unfinished prologues. Fantasy, contemporary, HSDJY related, and so on. I haven’t settled on the idea that I want to see to completion and for once I don’t think it’s the perfectionist in me. Its the tired adult 

Anywho, I’m super stubborn when I want to be and a game jam is still on my 2022 goals list so I’m not giving up just yet. Will keep y’all posted. When there’s something to be posted on LOL

- Gemini 💛

P.S. to those who celebrate, Happy Father’s Day!! and to those who this time of year is super rough, I hope you have some comfort and peace today.

P.P.S. HAPPY JUNETEENTH!!! I personally will be celebrating by staying my butt at home and smiling at all the Black authored YA books I own at my big age 😊