breads-is-writing-some-shit

[breads-is-writing-some-shit]

Marked

Prequel for Ashen Vows

The room smelled of ink, paper, and the faint metallic tang of seawater wafting through the cracked windows. It was dimly lit, the only source of light being the low-burning oil lamp on the desk where (Y/N) (Y/L/N) worked. He sat hunched over parchment, his pen scratching steadily, his brow furrowed in concentration.

James Keziah Delaney stood in the shadowed corner of the room, his black coat blending into the gloom. His piercing gaze studied the man before him—not as prey, but as something far more dangerous: an opportunity.

(Y/N) didn’t look like the usual Londoners James dealt with. His youthful, earnest features stood out against the grime of the city. There was a slight flush to his face, a telltale mark of someone unused to the cold cruelty of England’s winter and its people. But it wasn’t his foreignness that had drawn James to him.

It was they reputation.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was a rising talent in linguistic analysis and ancient scripts, a field rare enough to attract whispers from both academic circles and darker corners of society. James had heard rumors of his skill, tales of texts deciphered with uncanny precision. But it wasn’t until James had seen (Y/N)’s work firsthand—an intricate transcription of an ancient African dialect—that he’d known this was the man he needed.

And, against his will, the man he wanted.

“Mr. (Y/L/N),” James said at last, his voice low and gravelly, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

(Y/N) started slightly, the pen slipping in his hand. He turned toward the voice, his brown eyes widening when they met James’s intense gaze.

“You’re James Delaney,” (Y/N) said, his American accent crisp but tinged with curiosity.

“And you’re the man who has captured the attention of every antiquarian in London.” James stepped closer, his movements deliberate, predatory. “Do you know why I’m here?”

(Y/N) blinked, swallowing hard under the weight of James’s presence. “I can’t say I do, but… people don’t seek me out for casual matters.”

James smirked faintly. “No. They don’t.” He leaned against the edge of the desk, watching (Y/N)’s fingers tighten slightly around the pen. “I need your skills. I have texts that need deciphering. Ancient. Dangerous. And I believe you’re the only one capable of doing it.”

The hesitation on (Y/N)'s face didn’t escape James. He saw the younger man’s lips part slightly, the beginning of a refusal perhaps, or a question. But there was something else there, too—a flicker of something unspoken, an awareness of the space between them.

“And what do you want with these texts?” (Y/N) asked, his voice steady but cautious.

James’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s none of your concern.”

Days turned into weeks, and (Y/N) became entwined in James’s world, transcribing the mysterious texts James brought him. The work was grueling but rewarding, the scripts challenging even for someone of (Y/N)’s skill. And yet, he found himself drawn to the man who had hired him.

James’s intensity was magnetic, his brooding silence a sharp contrast to (Y/N)’s more earnest nature. But as the weeks passed, it became increasingly clear that their professional relationship wasn’t immune to darker forces.

One night, as (Y/N) worked late in the study James had provided for him, a group of strangers entered the townhouse. They were rough men, uninvited and stinking of whiskey and smoke. (Y/N) recognized one of them as a rival antiquarian who had approached him before with veiled threats.

“I heard you’ve been hoarding secrets,” the leader sneered, slamming the door shut behind him. “Working for the madman Delaney, are you? Dangerous company.”

“I have nothing for you,” (Y/N) said, his voice firm but his hands trembling slightly.

The men laughed, advancing on him. “Oh, you’ve got plenty for us,” one said, his gaze dropping suggestively. “Your talents… and more.”

(Y/N)’s breath hitched as one of them grabbed his arm, the grip bruising. He struggled, his heart pounding, but the men were stronger.

Before he could cry out, the door burst open, slamming against the wall with a deafening crack.

James stood in the doorway, his dark eyes blazing with fury. His presence was a storm contained within human flesh, his silence more terrifying than any shouted threat.

“Unhand him,” James said, his voice cold and venomous.

The leader turned, his bravado faltering as he met James’s stare. “This doesn’t concern you, Delaney.”

James stepped forward, shrugging off his coat and letting it fall to the floor. “Oh, it concerns me. Deeply.”

The fight was swift and brutal. James moved like a predator, his fists and boots landing with calculated precision. The room was filled with the sounds of breaking wood, shouts, and the crack of bone.

(Y/N) watched in stunned silence as James dismantled the men, his raw strength and ruthless efficiency leaving no room for doubt about the outcome. When the last man fled, clutching a broken arm, James turned to (Y/N), his breathing heavy but controlled.

“Are you hurt?” James asked, his voice softer now.

(Y/N) shook his head, his eyes wide. “You didn’t have to do that.”

James’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “I did. They touched what belongs to me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. (Y/N)’s heart raced, not with fear, but with something far more dangerous.

Later that night, as they sat in silence, (Y/N) spoke. “You didn’t hire me just for my skills, did you?”

James’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the fire crackling in the hearth. “I hired you because you’re the only one who can help me. And because…” He trailed off, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Because I can’t ignore what I feel when I’m near you.”

(Y/N)’s breath caught. He had felt it too—the unspoken pull between them, the way James’s presence seemed to fill the room, leaving no space for doubt or denial.

“Is that why you saved me tonight?” (Y/N) asked.

James turned to him, his dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded. “I saved you because I refuse to lose you. Not to them. Not to anyone.”

In that moment, (Y/N) really wish for their fates were bound together, not by choice, but by something deeper. Something neither of them could fully understand.

And as James leaned closer, his hand brushing against (Y/N)’s, they both knew there was no turning back.

[breads-is-writing-some-shit]

Ashen Vows | James Keziah Delaney x gn!reader

Content Warnings  

Explicit and Dark Themes: This story contains elements of adult romance, implicit and explicit intimacy, and suggestive language. As with the tone of *Taboo*, expect morally complex characters, elements of power imbalance, and supernatural ritualistic undertones. This relationship is filled with slow-burn tension, rough affection, and deep emotional vulnerability.  If you’re comfortable with these themes, welcome aboard! If not, please take care of yourself and feel free to step away.

From the Author: To everyone reading this, thank you for taking the time to explore this story. Whether you’re here for James Keziah Delaney’s brooding dominance, (Y/N)’s emotional vulnerability, or just to revel in Tom Hardy’s DILF energy, your support means the world.   This is a labor of love, and I promise there will be more stories to come featuring our favorite complicated men. Tom Hardy brings such depth and charisma to every role he takes on, so you can bet he’ll inspire future tales that delve into love, power, and all the delicious drama in between. Stay tuned for more adventures with your favorite DILF—and the lucky men or women who dare to love him. Thank you again for your support, your reblogs, and your kind words. Your encouragement fuels this writer’s heart.

With love,  

Breads

Synopsis:  In the shadowed streets of 1814 London, James Keziah Delaney is a man haunted by loss and bound by secrets. When a young American writer, crosses his path after a work, their connection turns into a layered and deep revelation. Drawn together by a forbidden bond forged in blood and desire, they must navigate a world of dangerous rituals, political enemies, and their own tortured pasts. Dark, sensual, and steeped in forbidden magic, Ashen Vows is a tale of unrelenting passion, sacrifice, and the enduring strength of love.

Part One: The Ink and the Flame  

The office smelled of leather, seawater, and the faint tang of ink. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) leaned over a desk that had seen centuries of secrets spilled across its surface, his pen scratching hesitantly at the paper. The room was dimly lit, the flicker of candlelight casting long, wavering shadows that danced like restless spirits.  

Behind him, James Keziah Delaney stood like a phantom, his presence as heavy and magnetic as the air before a storm. His voice, low and rough like gravel soaked in whiskey, broke the silence.  

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”  

(Y/N) froze, his hand tightening on the pen. There it was—an edge, a dare wrapped in velvety mockery. He turned slightly, catching the man’s piercing gaze. The intensity in James’s dark eyes was unnerving, as if he could strip a man bare with a single glance.  

“I’m here, aren’t I?” (Y/N) replied, his tone even but daring.  

James tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “That you are. A writer. A man of ideas, words... and yet, you keep your distance.”  

The young American straightened, brushing his dark curls back. “I wouldn’t call it distance. More like respect.”  

“Respect.” James took a slow step closer, his boots thudding softly on the aged wooden floor. “For me? Or for what you think I am?”  

(Y/N) swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in his chest. There was something primal about this man, something unrelenting. His employer. His captor, in a way. Yet he couldn’t deny the lure of the dangerous current that seemed to follow James wherever he went.  

“You’re the one who brought me here, Mr. Delaney,” he said, his voice steady despite the twisting knot in his stomach. “If you wanted someone afraid of you, you chose poorly.”  

James chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver up (Y/N)’s spine. He moved closer, his shadow enveloping the younger man as he leaned down to peer at the page (Y/N) had been working on.  

“You write beautifully,” James murmured, his lips too close to (Y/N)’s ear. “But it’s controlled. Measured. Like a man holding back something darker.”  

(Y/N) felt his breath hitch. The implicit suggestion, the teasing edge in James’s tone—it was deliberate.  

“I write what I’m hired to write,” he said, his voice tight.  

“And you think I hired you just for your words?” James asked, his hand brushing over the desk as he straightened. “No. I see more in you than ink and paper. You’re curious. You’re... hungry.”  

(Y/N) finally turned to face him fully, his jaw tightening. “Hungry for what?”  

James didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied (Y/N) like one might inspect a rare, dangerous artifact. His expression shifted, softening just enough to feel intimate, before hardening again.  

“For the truth,” James said finally, his voice almost a whisper. “And for the things you won’t admit to yourself.”  

(Y/N)’s pulse quickened. “You think you know me so well?”  

James smirked again, but it wasn’t amusement in his eyes—it was a challenge. He leaned down, their faces mere inches apart, his breath warm against (Y/N)’s cheek.  

“I know enough to keep you here,” James murmured, his tone laced with something dark and unspoken. “And I have a use for men like you.”  

(Y/N)’s breath caught at the deliberate choice of words, at the weight behind them. There was no mistaking the undertone of ownership, the suggestive tether that tightened between them with every passing moment.  

“And what, exactly, do you need me for?” (Y/N) asked, his voice a mix of defiance and something far more vulnerable.  

James’s lips curved, a predatory smile that hinted at secrets (Y/N) wasn’t sure he was ready to uncover. “Stay,” James said simply, his voice firm yet oddly gentle. “And you’ll find out.”  

(Y/N) didn’t move, his heart pounding as he watched James step away, his figure retreating into the shadows like a wolf returning to the forest.  

And in that charged silence, (Y/N) realized that he wasn’t just writing a story here. He was becoming part of one—one that promised to consume him whole.

Part Two: The Binding Threads  

The candlelight sputtered against the damp chill of the room, casting jagged shadows on the walls. (Y/N) sat hunched over the desk, the scratch of his pen barely audible over the distant echoes of rain tapping against the windowpanes. Before him lay a series of brittle, yellowed pages, their ink faded but unmistakably ominous.  

He furrowed his brow, reading the fragmented Latin text again. The phrases—fractured, repetitive—spoke of binding and sacrifice. James had handed him the stack earlier that day without explanation, his only instruction delivered with a half-smirk: *"Make sense of it, (Y/N). If anyone can, it’s you."*  

The door creaked open, and (Y/N) stiffened. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was—James’s presence swept into the room like a shadow, heavy and unrelenting.  

“You’ve been quiet,” James remarked, his voice low and smooth. He closed the door behind him, the sound more final than it needed to be.  

“I’m trying to figure out what this is,” (Y/N) replied, gesturing to the papers. “It’s... strange. Ritualistic, I think.”  

James strode forward, his coat shifting around him like a shroud. He leaned over the desk, one hand braced against the wood. (Y/N) didn’t miss how close he was, the scent of sea salt and smoke filling the space between them.  

“Does it unsettle you?” James asked, his tone almost teasing.  

(Y/N) hesitated, then shook his head. “Not the words. But the intent behind them... that’s what makes me curious.”  

James chuckled softly, his breath brushing (Y/N)’s temple. “Curiosity. A dangerous thing in the wrong hands. Or the right ones.”  

(Y/N) turned his head, finding James’s face closer than expected. The flicker of the candlelight danced in James’s eyes, making them seem impossibly darker. “What’s this really about?”  

James straightened, moving to the other side of the desk. “You’re a writer. You should already know the answer. This—” he gestured vaguely at the pages—“is a story. My story.”  

The cryptic response made (Y/N) frown. “You’re speaking in riddles again.”  

James smirked, leaning casually against the edge of the desk. “Not a riddle. A confession.”  

(Y/N) blinked, caught off guard. “A confession?”  

“I need you to write something for me,” James continued, his voice softening. “Not letters or business arrangements. Something real. Something... intimate.”  

The air thickened, heavy with unspoken tension. (Y/N) set down his pen carefully, his pulse quickening. “What kind of confession?”  

James’s gaze bore into him, his smirk fading into something more serious. He leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “The kind that binds a man. The kind that keeps him tied to this world... or another.”  

(Y/N)’s mouth went dry. “This is about the ritual, isn’t it? These pages?”  

James didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached for one of the pages, his fingers brushing the edge of the paper. “You read it, didn’t you? Words of binding. Words of desire. Tell me, (Y/N), what did they make you feel?”  

The question was too pointed, too intimate. (Y/N)’s first instinct was to deflect, but James’s gaze pinned him in place, demanding an answer.  

“I... I felt unsettled,” (Y/N) admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. “Like it was speaking to something I don’t understand.”  

James tilted his head, his expression softening. “Good. You’re not meant to understand it yet. You’re meant to feel it first.”  

(Y/N) shook his head, his frustration mounting. “Why me? Why not someone else?”  

James’s lips twitched into a faint, almost sad smile. “Because you can see what others cannot. You can write what others fear to name. And because... I have a use for you.”  

The words hung in the air, charged and deliberate. (Y/N)’s breath hitched, his heart pounding against his ribs. There was no mistaking the double meaning, the quiet possessiveness that laced James’s tone.  

“And what if I refuse?” (Y/N) challenged, his voice steadier than he felt.  

James leaned in, his hand settling on the desk mere inches from (Y/N)’s. “Then I’ll convince you,” he murmured, his voice velvet-dark. “But something tells me I won’t have to try very hard.”  

The proximity, the low rasp of James’s voice—it was unbearable. (Y/N)’s pulse raced as James’s gaze flicked to his lips for the briefest of moments before meeting his eyes again.  

For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them, the air between them electric and fragile. Then, just as suddenly, James pulled back, the spell broken.  

“Finish the translation,” James said, his voice cool and detached now. “And be ready to write my confession.”  

(Y/N) exhaled shakily as James strode toward the door. But before stepping out, James paused, glancing back over his shoulder.  

“Be careful, (Y/N),” he said, his voice carrying a note of warning. “You might not like what you uncover.”  

The door closed softly behind him, leaving (Y/N) alone with the flickering candlelight, the ominous pages, and the rapid, uneven beat of his own heart.  

Part Three: The Unseen Chains  

The rain lashed against the windows of the townhouse, the storm outside a mirror to the tempest in (Y/N)’s mind. He sat at the desk in James’s study, staring at the translation he’d pieced together over sleepless nights. The ritual’s meaning was no longer a mystery—it was a binding, not of bodies but of souls, a tether forged in shared agony and unrelenting desire.  

(Y/N)’s hands trembled as he reread the final passage. The words hinted at a secret that explained James’s obsession with the ritual and, perhaps, his unspoken need for (Y/N). It wasn’t just about power or control—it was personal.  

The creak of the door startled him. (Y/N) quickly folded the pages and slipped them into his jacket pocket, his pulse quickening. James entered, his coat dripping with rain and his eyes sharper than usual.  

“You’ve been busy,” James remarked, his voice low and measured. He moved to the fireplace, shaking off the dampness like a restless predator.  

“Busy enough,” (Y/N) replied, forcing calm into his tone.  

James turned, his gaze fixing on him. “And? Have you found what I sent you to look for?”  

(Y/N) hesitated, his mind racing. Should he tell James? The ritual wasn’t just an academic curiosity—it was a reflection of James’s deepest wounds and desires. But there was something else, a danger buried within the words, a warning (Y/N) hadn’t fully deciphered yet.  

“Almost,” (Y/N) said finally.  

James’s lips curled into a faint smirk, though his eyes betrayed suspicion. “Good. Then you’ll have answers soon.”  

Before (Y/N) could respond, the door burst open. A burly man stepped in, his face grim and soaked with rain. It was one of James’s dock associates—a man (Y/N) had seen before but had never spoken to directly.  

“Delaney,” the man said, his voice urgent. “Trouble at the docks.”  

James’s expression darkened, his smirk vanishing. He glanced at (Y/N), his gaze lingering as though weighing a decision. Then, without a word, he strode toward the door.  

“Stay here,” James ordered, his voice firm. “We’ll finish this later.”  

(Y/N) barely had time to protest before the door slammed shut behind him. Alone, the house suddenly felt larger, emptier, and colder.  

He pulled the pages from his pocket, spreading them out on the desk. His earlier hesitation faded as he reread the ritual’s final instruction. The binding wasn’t just a metaphysical link—it was a choice. For James, the ritual offered redemption through shared suffering. But for (Y/N), the choice was clear: reveal the truth and risk being forever tied to a man he couldn’t fully trust, or destroy the knowledge and leave James to his torment.  

The storm outside grew fiercer, thunder shaking the walls. A sharp noise broke (Y/N)’s concentration. He froze, his heart pounding. The sound came again—a footstep.  

“James?” he called, his voice barely above a whisper.  

Silence.  

He rose cautiously, the papers clutched in his hand. Moving toward the study door, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He stepped into the hallway, the dim light of the storm barely illuminating the space.  

A figure emerged from the shadows. It wasn’t James.  

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” the man said, his voice cold and deliberate.  

(Y/N) backed up, his mind racing. The stranger stepped closer, his face obscured by the flickering light.  

“Whatever you’ve found,” the man said, “you were never meant to see it.”  

(Y/N) tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat as the man lunged. Pain flared at his side as something sharp pierced him. He staggered, clutching his ribs as warmth spread across his shirt.  

The papers fell from his hands, scattering across the floor. The man knelt, scooping them up with practiced efficiency. “You’ve done enough,” he muttered before disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he’d come.  

(Y/N) collapsed against the wall, his vision swimming. Blood dripped from his fingers, pooling on the floor as the storm raged outside.  

---

Hours later, James returned. The study was dark, the fire extinguished. He called out for (Y/N), his voice echoing through the house.  

When he found him, slumped and pale, his eyes narrowed with fury and something deeper—fear.  

“(Y/N),” James growled, kneeling beside him. “Who did this?”  

(Y/N) tried to speak, but his voice was faint, his strength slipping away. “The pages... they... they took them,” he managed, his words barely audible.  

James’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening around (Y/N)’s shoulders. “What did you find?”  

But (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered closed before he could answer, leaving James to piece together the fragments of betrayal and truth on his own. The weight of what had been stolen—and what had been left unsaid—pressed down on him like the storm outside.

Part Four: The Seal

The room was dim, the faint light from the fireplace casting long shadows across the wooden walls. (Y/N) stood by the window, staring out into the night. His hands were trembling, though he kept them clenched at his sides. The ritual steps, the answers he had hidden for weeks, were finally scrawled in careful script on the table behind him. But the weight of the truth he now carried was unbearable.  

“You’re quiet,” James’s voice came from the doorway.  

(Y/N) didn’t turn, though his breath caught. James’s presence was heavy, commanding, as if the very air shifted to accommodate him. He stepped into the room, his boots thudding softly against the floorboards.  

“I thought you’d be angrier,” (Y/N) said, his voice strained.  

James approached, his expression inscrutable. “I suspected you were holding something back. But I know you had your reasons. So I waited.”  

(Y/N) turned to face him, his heart pounding. “You should read it,” he said, gesturing to the pages on the table.  

James’s eyes flicked to the paper, then back to (Y/N). He moved slowly, deliberately, picking up the notes and scanning them. His jaw tightened as he read, his eyes narrowing slightly.  

“The ritual completes the bond,” (Y/N) said, his voice trembling. “But not without a cost. It binds us together permanently, our emotions, our thoughts, our pain. If you go through with this, there’s no undoing it. No escape for either of us.”  

James set the paper down, his expression unreadable. “And yet you wrote it anyway.”  

“Because I knew you’d find it eventually,” (Y/N) admitted, his voice rising. “And because... because I couldn’t keep lying to you.”  

James stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “Why did you lie to me in the first place?”  

(Y/N)’s chest tightened. “Because I was afraid. Afraid you were doing this for the wrong reasons. That you’d use this power to control, not to connect. And that I’d lose myself in the process.”  

The silence that followed was suffocating. (Y/N) looked away, his eyes burning.  

“But I was wrong,” he continued, his voice breaking. “I wasn’t afraid of you. I was afraid of how much I already felt tied to you, without magic or rituals. And I was afraid that... that you didn’t feel the same.”  

James stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. His hand reached out, brushing (Y/N)’s jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze.  

“I told you once, (Y/N), I don’t speak unless I mean it,” James said, his voice low and rough. “I’ve spent my life running from everything—grief, hate, desire. But you...” He paused, his thumb brushing (Y/N)’s cheek. “You made me stop running. You made me want to stay.”  

(Y/N)’s breath hitched. “And now?”  

“Now,” James said, his voice softening, “I know that this bond we’ve started isn’t because of the ritual. It’s because of you. Because you saw me. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone, even you, tell me it isn’t real.”  

(Y/N)’s heart raced, his emotions teetering on the edge of control. “But if you complete the ritual, James, it won’t just bind us. It’ll change you. It’ll take your freedom.”  

James’s lips twitched into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Freedom’s an illusion, (Y/N). I’ve been a prisoner of my own darkness for years. If this gives me the strength to protect you, to keep you... then it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”  

(Y/N) shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. “You can’t make that choice for me. For us. What if it’s not what I want?”  

James’s grip on him tightened. “Then tell me to stop,” he said, his voice fierce. “Tell me to let you go, to live my life without you. But if you stay... if you stay, (Y/N), there’s no going back.”  

The room was unbearably quiet, the crackle of the fire the only sound. (Y/N) felt the weight of James’s words, the truth in them, pressing against his chest.  

Before he could answer, the air shifted. The shadows in the room lengthened unnaturally, and a low hum filled the space. (Y/N) gasped, clutching James’s arm as a searing heat radiated from the table.  

The ritual somehow had begun with the words.  

“What’s happening?” (Y/N) asked, his voice trembling.  

James’s eyes darkened, his expression grim. “The bond,” he said, stepping protectively in front of (Y/N). “It’s reacting to us. To our emotions.”  

The heat intensified, the fire in the hearth roaring higher. (Y/N) felt a sharp, pulling sensation in his chest, as though something deep within him was being drawn out.  

“James!” he cried, clutching at him.  

James turned, his hand cupping (Y/N)’s face. “You have to choose,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. “I’ll stop this if you want me to. But if you trust me... if you trust us, let it happen.”  

(Y/N) searched his eyes, seeing the vulnerability James rarely allowed to show. He felt the bond between them, unspoken but undeniable, growing stronger with each passing moment.  

“I trust you,” (Y/N) whispered.  

The words sealed the ritual. A burst of darkness filled the room, blinding and all-encompassing. (Y/N) felt James’s arms tighten around him as the bond solidified, a wave of emotion crashing over them both—love, pain, fear, and desire, all merging into something unbreakable.  

When the complete darkness faded, revealing not a rain anymore but a moonlight, the room was silent. (Y/N) sagged against James, his body trembling from the intensity of what had just happened.  

“It’s done,” James said softly, his voice heavy with finality.  

(Y/N) looked up at him, his breath hitching at the raw emotion in James’s eyes. “What now?”  

James smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from (Y/N)’s face. “Now,” he said, his voice low and tender, “we start again. Together.”  

And for the first time, (Y/N) felt the weight of his fear lift, replaced by the quiet certainty of the bond they now shared.  

The room was filled with the scent of the river, mingling with the heady aroma of candles dying. James stood by the mantle, his fingers lightly tracing the words engraved on those papers who triggered all the storm before, his posture rigid but not unyielding.

"You have no much idea what yo.. we've done," James finally spoke, his voice a low growl that seemed to resonate through the very walls. His eyes, dark and piercing, locked onto (Y/N) across the room. "Do you?"

(Y/N) stepped forward, their movements deliberate and slow, as if each step was a calculated risk. Their eyes never left James', filled with a mix of determination and desperation. "I know exactly what I'm wanting now," they replied, their voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. "And I want it more than anything."

James' lips curled into a smirk, a rare display of amusement breaking through his usual stern facade. "Bold words, what we have here, what we are now is something powerful," he mused, setting the papers aside and turning fully to face (Y/N). "But actions speak louder than words, don't they?"

Without waiting for a response, James closed the distance between them, his presence commanding and imposing. He reached out, gripping (Y/N)'s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting their head back slightly. "Tell me, (Y/N)," he breathed, his voice dripping with authority, "are you ready to submit to me? To let yourself go completely?"

(Y/N) swallowed hard, their pulse quickening under James' intense scrutiny. "Yes," they whispered, their voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "I'm ready."

James' grip tightened ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer. "Good," he said, his breath hot against (Y/N)'s skin. "Because there will be no going back after this."

With that, James released (Y/N)'s chin and stepped back, his hand reaching beneath his coat to undo the buckle of his belt. The metallic click echoed in the silence of the room, a prelude to the intensity that was about to unfold.

"Strip, take down these clothes" James commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Now."

(Y/N) hesitated for only a moment before beginning to undress, their hands trembling slightly but determined. They removed their shirt first, revealing a lean, toned torso, then kicked off their boots and slid down their trousers, standing before James in nothing but their underwear.

James watched with predatory focus, his eyes roaming over (Y/N)'s body with possessive intent. "Not enough," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I want you bare. Completely."

(Y/N) nodded, their throat dry as they peeled off their remaining garments, standing naked and exposed before the man who had become both their desire and their master.

James' gaze intensified, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight of (Y/N)'s vulnerable form. He reached out, his fingers brushing against (Y/N)'s chest, tracing the curve of their hip, and finally coming to rest on the small of their back. "Beautiful," he murmured, his tone softening for just a moment. "So perfect."

(Y/N) shivered at the touch, their breath hitching as James' hand moved lower, guiding them towards the chaise lounge by the fire. "Lie down," James ordered, his voice once again firm and commanding.

(Y/N) complied, stretching out on the soft velvet, their heart racing as they waited for what came next. James remained standing, watching them with a mixture of satisfaction and hunger.

"Spread your legs," James instructed, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Show me how much you want this."

(Y/N) obeyed, parting their thighs slowly, their cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. James' eyes darkened, his control slipping just a fraction as he saw the extent of (Y/N)'s surrender.

He knelt beside the chaise, his hand sliding between (Y/N)'s legs, his fingers finding the delicate skin already slick with desire. "Such heat," James purred, his voice laced with approval. "You're eager, aren't you?"

(Y/N) gasped, their hips bucking involuntarily at the touch. "Yes," they admitted, their voice shaky. "I've wanted this for so long."

James' fingers delved deeper, exploring with a practiced precision that left (Y/N) breathless. "Then let me hear you beg," he demanded, his hand brushing over the sensitive nub hidden within. "Beg for my cock."

(Y/N) moaned, their body arching towards James' hand. "Please," they whimpered, their voice breaking. "Please, James... I need you inside me."

James' smirk returned, his control fully restored as he pulled his hand away, leaving (Y/N) aching and desperate. "Patience," he said, rising to his full height. "First, we prepare."

He retrieved a bottle of oil from the nearby table, uncorking it with a practiced flick of his wrist. "Open wider," he instructed, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. "Let me in."

(Y/N) did as they were told, their body trembling with anticipation as James' slick fingers began to probe, preparing them for what was to come. "Relax," James murmured, his other hand stroking (Y/N)'s inner thigh. "This is only the beginning."

As James' fingers worked, stretching and filling (Y/N) with relentless surety, (Y/N) could only whimper in response, their submission complete. "Please... James..." they begged, their voice raw with need. "I can't take it anymore... give me your cock..."

James paused, his eyes locking onto (Y/N)'s, a dangerous glint in their depths. "Are you certain?" he asked, his voice a silken threat. "Once I start, there's no stopping."

(Y/N) nodded desperately, their eyes pleading. "I'm certain," they breathed. "I want all of you."

With a slow, deliberate movement, James withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at (Y/N)'s entrance, his cock hard and throbbing against the tight passage. "Hold on," he warned, his voice low and gravelly. "This is going to be intense."

(Y/N) braced themselves, their muscles tensing as James aligned himself perfectly. Then, with one powerful thrust, he pushed inside, filling (Y/N) completely and eliciting a cry of mingled pain and pleasure.

James didn't stop, his thrusts relentless and deep, driving into (Y/N) with a ferocity that left them gasping for breath. "That's it," he growled, his voice rough with exertion. "Take it all, just like I knew you would."

(Y/N) clung to the cushions, their nails digging into the cotton as they tried to keep up with the onslaught of sensation. "James... harder..." they pleaded, their voice breaking. "Don't hold back... please!"

At that, James' control snapped, his thrusts becoming even more urgent and brutal, his fingers digging into (Y/N)'s hips as he pounded into them with abandon. "Fuck, (Y/N)... you're mine... all mine..." he snarled, his voice thick with lust.

(Y/N) cried out, their body trembling with the force of James' passion, their climax building rapidly. "James... I'm close... so close..." they gasped, their voice fading into incoherent murmurs.

James' reply was a guttural growl, his thrusts growing erratic as he felt his own release approaching. "Come for me," he commanded, his voice hoarse. "Show me how much you want this."

With a final, desperate cry, (Y/N) shattered, their body convulsing around James' cock as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over them. James followed immediately, his orgasm crashing through him with the force of a tidal wave, his seed filling (Y/N) with relentless intensity.

For a moment, there was only the sound of ragged breathing and the crackling fire, the world outside forgotten. Then, slowly, James pulled out, his body still humming with residual pleasure. He dropped to his knees beside (Y/N), his hand gently caressing their sweat-slicked back.

"(Y/N)," he whispered, his voice tender for the first time. "You were incredible."

(Y/N) turned their head to meet James' gaze, their eyes glazed with contentment. "Thank you," they murmured, their voice soft. "Thank you for giving me this."

James' smile was brief but genuine. "There's more where that came from," he promised, his voice a low, seductive purr. "But first, rest."

With that, he rose to his feet, moving to the door without another word. "Wait," (Y/N) called, their voice filled with urgency. "What happens now?"

James paused, his hand on the doorknob, and looked back with a smirk. "Now," he said, his voice dark and full of promise, "we see how far you'll let me take you. That's not the ending.”

Part Five: Shadows in the Morning  

The morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains of James’s townhouse, casting long streaks of gold across the room. The air carried the faint scent of burnt wood from the hearth and the lingering musk of the night before.  

(Y/N) stirred in the massive bed, his bare skin brushing against the tangled sheets. For a moment, he stayed still, reliving the heat of James’s hands on him, the rough way his lips had moved against his own, the whispers of promises made and debts owed to one another. A sharp ache of satisfaction thrummed in his chest and elsewhere, the weight of last night’s passion still fresh.  

A deep voice broke through his haze. “Are you going to sleep all day, or do I need to wake you properly?”  

(Y/N) opened his eyes, finding James standing near the window, shirtless, his tattoos catching the soft light. He was holding a cup of tea in one hand, the other resting casually on the window frame. His dark eyes were fixed on (Y/N), softened with an affection that was still startling to see.  

(Y/N) smirked and stretched, the motion languid and deliberate. “You call this sleeping in? It’s barely morning.”  

James raised an eyebrow, the faintest curve of a smile tugging at his lips. “By my standards, it’s indulgent.” He crossed the room, placing the tea on the nightstand and sitting on the edge of the bed. “But I suppose I can make an exception for you.”  

(Y/N) sat up, leaning forward to press a slow, deliberate kiss to James’s lips. James responded immediately, his hand sliding to the back of (Y/N)’s neck, pulling him closer. When they finally broke apart, (Y/N) rested his forehead against James’s, his voice low.  

“I’m not going anywhere,” (Y/N) said. “Whatever comes next, we face it together.”  

James’s eyes darkened, his expression turning serious. “That’s a dangerous promise to make.”  

“I mean it,” (Y/N) replied. “After everything we’ve been through... I’m not afraid anymore.”  

James studied him for a long moment, then nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Good. Because there’s no going back.”  

They shared breakfast in a rare moment of calm. (Y/N) had grown accustomed to James’s silence during meals, but now, there was a softness in the way James glanced at him, a subtle smile at the corner of his lips when (Y/N) caught his eye.  

The bond between them felt natural now, as if it had always been there. James, for all his brooding and darkness, seemed lighter in (Y/N)’s presence. Stronger.  

But peace, they both knew, was fleeting.  

By late afternoon, the first crack in their newfound calm appeared. A knock came at the door, sharp and insistent. James and (Y/N) exchanged a look, both sensing the shift in the air.  

Bracewell, one of James’s trusted associates, entered with a grim expression. “There’s a man asking questions at the docks,” he said. “A foreigner. Claims he’s looking for something—or someone—of great value. Says he has papers tied to Delaney Shipping.”  

James’s jaw tightened, his demeanor immediately hardening. “Did he give a name?”  

Bracewell hesitated. “Said he’s called Elias Worthing. Claims to be an emissary of the Crown.”  

(Y/N)’s stomach twisted. He knew enough of James’s past dealings to recognize the weight of that title. Anyone tied to the Crown was either an ally with ulterior motives or an enemy determined to destroy everything James had built.  

James rose from his chair, his presence suddenly as commanding as ever. “Send word to the docks. No one speaks to him without my approval. I’ll deal with him myself.”  

(Y/N) stood as well, his voice steady despite the unease creeping in. “I’m coming with you.”  

James turned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not involved in this.”  

“The hell I’m not,” (Y/N) replied, stepping closer. “You think I’m just going to sit here while someone threatens what we’ve built? You’re stronger with me beside you. Remember?”  

James stared at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Very well. But you follow my lead.”  

---

The docks were bustling despite the tension that hung in the air. James and (Y/N) arrived together, their presence drawing cautious glances from workers and merchants alike.  

Elias Worthing was waiting for them, a tall, sharp-featured man with piercing blue eyes and an air of cold authority. He wore a tailored coat that seemed out of place among the gritty surroundings.  

“James Keziah Delaney,” Elias said, his voice smooth and clipped. “You’re a difficult man to find.”  

James didn’t respond immediately, his gaze calculating. “And yet, here you are.”  

Elias’s eyes flicked briefly to (Y/N), then back to James. “I hear you’ve been dabbling in certain... unorthodox practices. Practices that have drawn the attention of powerful men.”  

James stepped forward, his posture menacing. “If you’ve come to threaten me, you’ll find I’m not easily intimidated.”  

Elias smiled faintly. “Not a threat, Mr. Delaney. A warning. You’ve tied yourself to something far greater than you realize. And if you’re not careful, it will consume you—and everyone you care about.”  

James’s expression didn’t waver, but (Y/N) felt the tension radiating from him. He stepped forward, his voice firm. “If you’re here to interfere, you’ll have to go through both of us.”  

Elias’s gaze lingered on (Y/N), a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “So this is the infamous bond,” he said, almost to himself. “Fascinating. Dangerous, but fascinating.”  

James moved between them, his voice a low growl. “You’ve said your piece. Now leave.”  

Elias inclined his head slightly. “For now. But this isn’t over, Delaney. Not by a long shot.”  

As he walked away, (Y/N) felt a chill run through him. James turned to him, his expression grim but resolute.  

“This isn’t just about us anymore,” James said.  

(Y/N) nodded, gripping James’s arm tightly. “Then we’ll face it. Together.”  

James leaned in, pressing a fierce kiss to (Y/N)’s lips, a silent promise of strength and love. As they stood there, united against the storm that was sure to come, (Y/N) knew one thing with absolute certainty: they were no longer alone, and together, they could survive anything.

E N D ... for now.

[breads-is-writing-some-shit]

"Pedro looks so out of place, he doesn't look like he belongs there." Shut up.

[breads-is-writing-some-shit]

Chapter 1 : Introducing Daniel "Bread" Lima

The new partner of the Dagger team.

Author's Note: Hi everyone, I hope you are doing wonderful right now. This warning is quick. I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes or mistakes about anything in this story. I am open to criticism and suggestions. I'm not new to writing but this is the first time I've written publicly for Tumblr, so I just hope you're kind and enjoy well-told stories. The story I created tries to fit in real details about the characters that I didn't create like the aviators, however, this ends up being my vision of them that will eventually change since the purpose of this story, which will be long, is to tell how the dagger squadron feels attracted to the newcomer who seems to be the mix of everything they particularly and intimately like and how this interest affects the group. I tried to write a mature and consistent story about varied spectrums of this relationship and I'm counting on you to read it and give your opinions with all due respect. That said, good reading.

Author's Note 2: I may be making a beginner's mistake and forgetting a lot of things, like tags, but I can't help but mention @fangirlvibez (you are amazing) who hasn't even read the story and is already waiting for updates, I'll try to be assiduous at least once a week.

It was already well past sunset and what Daniel needed after the trip was something to drink. It was hot that night, and it was the best idea to get to know the neighborhood, or rather the city. His previous boss assigned him to complete this team as a member and they appeared to have been working for just over a year after an “impossible mission���. He had little information about the mission, which despite being difficult, was a great success if not counting After the setbacks, Captain Maverick was teaching the airmen and this was a good opportunity for Daniel. He called his only contact on site, and how lucky he was. In the contact list, Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell called him without much ceremony , after all, the next day he would be presenting himself as his assistant and student. Daniel, despite having a certain reputation as an aviator, having three confirmed kills, could not boast as they were all confidential missions and he only knew that Maverick publicly shot down five in addition to having He had been an aircraft test pilot. He obviously had a lot of questions. But when Maverick took him out on the other side in such a friendly manner, he preferred that those not be his first impressions of the aviator who would probably be his wingman until the end of that year.

"Yes, I arrived this afternoon, I already unpacked everything in record time, and of course I'm anxious but really, I just needed to relax. Do you know any place, a bar or spot to enjoy before the hard work tomorrow?" Daniel subtly faked a laugh to show that he needed it, that it was half true. He was interested in the drinks, but the captain's company would be a great aggravating factor, he could find out about all pending matters since the captain seemed to be quite reckless even with so many exploits under his belt.

"I have the perfect place in mind but you'll have to get there alone, consider it a reconnaissance mission. No need to report back to me at the end, I'll go as soon as I can to see someone there too, Penny. She can help you if If you're nervous. She's an incredible, beautiful woman and we're convincing ourselves that our relationship is going great. But you don't need to tell her about me. If something happens or you get nervous, count on her. But here's some advice: Be yourself and everything will be fine." His deep laugh was more than enough to determine that he would probably let you deal with that situation alone after it arrived.

Daniel dressed very casually, trying to look like a civilian tourist. Tight pants, simple but shiny shoes and a long-sleeved, high-neck t-shirt. Combed hair and thick glasses. Besides a perfume, you never know when he might win over someone decent tonight.

Maverick was direct when he sent a message on his cell phone indicating the location of the Hard Deck, where civilians and airmen played at tables, drank and listened to great sounds at the same time. It was perfect just stopping at that. But the message indicated that the Dagger squad would be there. Excellent.

After 20 minutes you paid for the Uber ride and said goodbye to the driver, showing her the five stars. She wished her a good night and good luck, which Daniel responded with a chuckle before turning towards the bar.

The Hard Deck was brawnily charming even from the outside. Music was playing loudly, before the beach, and it was hard to miss. you could feel the fun energy the place had from afar, Daniel was in love with the place. A few more steps and the new mission began. Identify the entire squad until Maverick arrives. And there Daniel was almost about to enter when the door opens and there are two airmen, in that unmistakable and tight khaki uniform, carrying a complaining man and throwing him against the sand. One of them was tall with dark skin, very presentable with a friendly and intense face at the same time and the other was a shorter blonde, with a classy pose and an impeccable smile rolling a toothpick between his lips. They said something about not having paid for the drinks and were going back when they saw and greeted Daniel in a cordial, polite way, but it was possible to feel that there was a “snack” in the way they took their steps back to the bar. Before the door closed, Daniel saw them both look back with familiar laughter and the blonde patted the brunette's chest with an air that said “Today we're going to get along”. They smile when they notice Daniel entering right behind, but different from what they expected or not, Daniel goes straight to the counter hoping to find a familiar face.

Daniel greets the woman at the bar, beautiful and starts scanning the bar, already noticing a small variety and when he was putting his cell phone on the counter his gaze quickly passes by the woman at the bar watching you, the bar attendant has a smile shaking her head and Looking into Daniel's eyes, she points to a sign next to her and Then to the bell above her. on the sign “Anyone who disrespects a lady or the Navy…”

You thank her for the warning and smile at her.

"Yeah, I don't want to play the 'I'm new in town' card yet, so I'll just thank you for the warning and order a whiskey and then something stronger to lift my thoughts after all the alcohol. I'm waiting for a colleague who will introduce me everything. I can stay here and watch the movement if it doesn't bother you, I want to meet them." You say pointing to a pool table full of aviators around a game.

"If you like, my partner will arrive soon. And he can even help you with that, he's their instructor."

"No kidding, you're Penny. Wow, you're even more beautiful than I imagined. Captain Maverick can't find any more adjectives to fill you with quality. He's crazy about you and now I understand why. I'm the rookie who came to join a mission. I need more experience with this team and the legendary Maverick." You finish and the woman thanks you for the cheap exposure, giving you space to start studying her before Maverick makes his entrance. Penny engages in the conversation like a good listener, until she is satisfied with confirming what she heard from Maverick.

"Newbie?! He seems pretty humble from what Pete told me. You did well at the gym and are here recommended by your superiors to participate in their new plan. I'd say I'm pretty curious about what else you know how to do up there and here. Until then, all I heard were rumors but you confirmed everything, except for some that you seem to insist on humility. Better be prepared for them, they've heard too much from Maverick about you. Like you're super good in bed according to your colleagues on the old team. Words from Maverick.”

“Oh my God, he didn’t spread it. Obviously it's an invention. I'm not so-” Daniel was in the middle of his defense (or burial) when she points to the pool table surrounded by more of those aviators after a taller one in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses and a small, neatly trimmed mustache walks in. in the mess. Penny completes the vision with her comment: “It's not me who needs to make these lame excuses, it's them who are curious about the captain's mysterious assistant who is as good at shooting down jets as he is in bed. Let me try to help you by talking about them. ”

“Okay Penny, it starts with who’s leading that game.” Penny hears his plea and follows his gaze to the table. The boastful and arrogant blonde has a cue sliding across the pool table, calculating the best angles for his shot when he looks away for a moment just to give a sighing smile of triumph, and soon Daniel notices the clear gaze on him, as if I knew I was watching his skill in that game and then he turned his gaze to the table, taking a firm shot, hitting the ball in a corner, disappearing with two and extending his hand in the air to celebrate hitting the brunette that Daniel saw earlier. They seemed too friendly between them. Daniel took the opportunity to look at the second one there, the dark-skinned one.

He was carrying three beers, he replaced one for the dominant one on the table and took a sip looking at Daniel, giving a smile then even offering a quick wink and turned his gaze to the table already raising the drink to a couple who were watching the game, the The shorter one was discussing the game with another in a restrained way. This first one had his hair cut very short and his young features gave him a boyish look if he matched the guy behind him, dark-skinned and tall with a thin mustache who offered another drink to a woman with her hair tied tightly in a bun that looked like Entertained in the game as well as the duo that commented next to her, she was in front of another of them, a blonde with thin glasses who seemed very interested and shy in a way. To finish the quick trip through the bar, there was that other tall guy with a peculiar mustache, an open flowered t-shirt and aviator glasses that differed from everyone who was wearing a khaki uniform, he and two others further away, one being tall and frowning and the other a little taller. short with a nicer face and a woman and a young Asian man far away drinking. It wasn't so easy to distinguish everyone, but when Penny approached the counter to refill her glass, you ordered a beer and asked her to bring a round to the group.

"It's those over there, the Dagger squadron that I'm going to start working with tomorrow. It looks like an interesting team. I didn't have photos of them as I wanted to meet them all in person, and I also only had a basic description of each and an aviator resume. Would you like to help me putting names to faces? I would really appreciate it. Maverick will be arriving soon and I want to surprise him a little, since I'll be working alongside him."

Penny smiled and lifted her flannel to begin sorting out her requested beers. And she returned to their table with plenty of beers and when the guy in the Hawaiian shirt saw the drinks he seemed to question when she received a slight nod pointing towards you at the counter. He took the

drink and lifted it towards him, taking a sip, lowering his glasses in a sensual way, seeing his eyes behind his glasses, slightly sliding down his nose as he drank the beer. The bottles were taken to the pool table, where there was a group with a beautiful girl with well-tied hair, a couple with a short guy and a dark-skinned guy, there was more of a dark-skinned guy and a blonde guy who was a little shorter, very impeccable, as well as a furthest group with a woman and three other men. She moved to the corner, lifting a bottle of water and a glass of peanuts, they were for the blonde with glasses who caught her attention due to his shyness, he had already met Daniel's gaze several times but he always withdrew his curiosity and returned for half a second, following a teenage smile, it was charming.

Penny walked a little further away with the last few beers, taking one to a man in uniform with a serious face who was literally in the dark corner looking at some papers and as soon as he received the drink he immediately tried to lift the drink and greet you from there with a smile too, charming and serious, he started to get up but went deeper and disappeared into the crowd, in the direction of the bathrooms. Penny came back quickly from her round and placed the tray on the table as if it was all a chore and she hadn't gotten the hang of it.

"Let the introductions begin. Where should I begin?" Penny makes a curious smile before starting to scan the bar staff until a smile escapes. “Okay, since you made an impression on those there, I’ll start with them, so you can fit in faster.”

Penny signals to the tall blonde leaning against the table.

“Hangman, confident in his abilities both in heaven and on earth. He loves to tease, but he's not exactly a terrible person, and he's very honest about everything. Fun and flirtatious. He's even been charming us here since you arrived. Even so, be careful. His little friend is Coyote, he looks serious but is fun, friendly and lighthearted. He's always providing the group with his company and has great conversations if you get tired of some arrogant airman. He doesn't have many problems getting along with anyone, but he takes it easy.

There by their side are Payback, the tallest and shortest Fanboy, a pilot and his WSO, will love them both. They have a great sense of humor and are sharp as a team. The other pair, Phoenix and Bob, the girl is very strong and confident as she should be and it is extremely easy to talk to her, but be careful because she is not an ordinary woman, and your WSO from Lemoore, of all people can being the easiest to become close to because he is extremely charismatic despite appearing to be shy at first, but he is skilled in several areas and fast, in addition to being cute.

The one who arrived the most late and is even getting ready to go to the piano is Rooster, everyone loves him and everyone falls in love with him. It has a unique style but Maverick said it's all inherited from his father, Goose, who Pete flew with before the accident. Long story, but this guy is patient, very friendly and has other good aspects that only those who know him personally can list.

Right there you have Halo and Omaha, WSO and pilot who have been as a team since they arrived with Yale and Harvard also a pilot duo and WSO, Omaha and Harvard are sometimes walking together and could even form a duo if asked because they seem close there and their relationship is very similar to Phoenix and BOB. The last smiling driver is Fritz, it's difficult to say much about these last five because I didn't get to talk to them for a long time.

And there's his Vice Admiral Cyclone, serious and practical. He is soft spoken but knows how to be strict. Don't be too impulsive, he seems to be old school and competes with others there like Maverick, but apart from his professional appearance, he is a sweet person. I should talk to him a lot, he doesn't have much contact with the aviators but he is always watched from afar, like now.”

Daniel snorts at the amount of information.

“You'll get used to it, they're all incredible and they're great, you'll learn a lot from them and I'm sure you'll teach them more too. There will be time for that. Right Pete?” Penny comes down from the counter with Daniel to hug Pete, leaving Daniel with the drink. Pete extends his hand to greet Daniel before issuing the challenge.

“And how are the presentations going, have you spoken to any of them, or would you prefer to leave it for tomorrow?”

"I don't know Captain, I feel like I should do something but it seems like I'm at a fair with so many looks, if I may say so, their curiosity seems to exceed the professional limit. We have almost the same rank and you are a legend to me, But everything becomes difficult to take when I have the information that you've been spreading these 'stories' about me. That's not exactly true, if I may."

“Now Daniel, you don’t need to be anxious about this, I don’t doubt that you’re great in bed. It's not me who is curious to test this idea. I just received information and passed on as much as I could about you to them. I have not excluded any detail of what I heard about you. It's okay, we are human, men and we have needs, you don't need to worry about me, if that's your issue. Go there."

Daniel grabs one last beer before dragging himself off the counter, still nervous. From where he starts to approach, he already notices Hangman showing an incredible pearly smile that even brings a smile, when you pass by him, Hangman lowers his head as if in disbelief but you send him one last smile that catches his attention and you position yourself in the center . Close to Payback and Phoenix.

“You two are the least thirsty of this group.” Daniel points to the other side of the pool.

Phoenix soon says “We kind of made a bet. And everyone here had a different guess."

“And what bet was that? It seems like I’ve been well targeted now.” Daniel drinks his beer while Payback laughs.

"We wanted to see who would get your attention because they all seem to be a little interested. Which is a problem since there's only one of you."

“I still believe Hangman would take it.” Coyote stood up. “but even I was thinking I could try too."

Payback continued “I wanted to bet on you, but I have to put faith in my Fanboy” He said hitting the side of his WSO who looked down and laughed while laughing to the side. "I think Bob's charm would win this one. It was a certainty.” Bob takes a blushing look at everyone within seconds before crossing and locking eyes with Daniel.

“I-I wouldn’t be so lucky, I hate to admit it but I’m between Hangman and Rooster.”

Rooster protested from the piano: "Don't be intimidated like that Bob, you're a bad guy and we all know your skills inside and outside the fighter. Relax a little too, I confess that I would also join the game but despite everything, it's It's a matter of good taste. It might even be that our friends didn't even look at us like that but in other directions, we're not the only hot aviators in the bar."

"But let's cut this nonsense, since it's here and without judgment based on our bets, who would you take to bed tonight." Hangman sat back with open arms looking around.

“You guys are strangely confident and united, it didn't even occur to you that I just wanted to chat or play with you… But okay. I wanted to just be nice and introduce myself but I'm afraid I've been cornered with a good question." Daniel's gaze still travels around everyone before focusing on Pete and Penny who were laughing at hearing everything nearby, when his gaze met with that of the Admiral.

"Captain-Lieutenant Daniel Lima” Said the Vice Admiral, interjecting into the conversation, subtly silencing the group that widened their eyes. “Thank you for the courtesy earlier, there's no need to salute but I would like to give a proper welcome to Pete's new assistant instructor and show my availability for all your questions, as you were so friendly when you first approached. Thank you again and I am flattered and curious about your joining the squad. Welcome back Bread!”

Everyone watching silently looked at each other while Daniel sighed, slightly nervous due to the pressure he suddenly thought of in that small space. Everyone is feeling mixed emotions when Maverick approaches and raises a toast with the beer.

“A toast to the new company and the new challenges, welcome to Captain Lieutenant Daniel “Bread” Lima, cheers!” and he drank nervously like everyone else.

That's all for this chapter, I'll see you soon, maybe next week ...

So, if have any questions or requests, don't miss the chance. Love you, bye!

[breads-is-writing-some-shit]

Summary: Daniel, a lieutenant captain considered a prodigy of his class in his recent time at Top Gun, is signed to join the Dagger Squad and be trained directly by Maverick as his wingman before a new mission. Needing to deal as a beginner with great hunting fighting techniques and experience having some confirmed kills and great placement from the academy on special missions, he needs to learn to communicate with the team, from his instructors, superiors to his teammates who show interest beyond professional, something that Daniel "Bread" Lima needs to be able to resolve in the weeks before the mission with this team.

Author's Notes: I chose to tell this story in third person but eventually it may be changed to Y/N if I decide you would like to see how this universe works, I personally chose to choose OC Daniel as a prodigal and experienced pilot to abuse the description of dogfight tactics that I like and focus on the characters' free and fluid relationships and giving more wings to my own desires, and enjoy scenes of squad discovery of polyamory and romantic sex between all the key characters in this universe, all in a natural and simple way. If you're not used to or don't want these men and women to have intimate relationships with each other, including the main character, don't try to follow along. This story is about a pilot and the group interested in this pilot in different ways and willing to try things for the pilot's sake and all in a romantic and fun atmosphere.

Notices: no one yet(?) Just be warned that is polyamorous relationship, centered on this main character been attracted in middle of hot pilots that want to taste.

Title: Joining