#Walking Wake Hurricane

[ask-cracked-dome-lab]

Oh? Who's your mom? :D

🌀

A walking wake.

[seonghwaddict]

23:46 — song mingi

in which your best friend is a little hard to wake up.

roommate!song mingi x fem!reader. genre. friends to lovers. fluff. timestamp. warnings. lots of kisses. wc. 1k. rating. pg-13.

lilo's notes. hiii here's a cute little mingi fic because i love him so much :3

listening to. you're mine, you!, chet baker

masterlist.

a quiet chuckle leaves your lips as you walk into the living room, finding your roommate fast asleep on the couch. mingi snored softly, sprawled out with his black playstation controler dangling from his hand for dear life.

you just wanted to grab a snack from the kitchen, but instead you made a detour to crouch beside the couch and take the controler from his hand as gently as you could. not that taking it from him forcefully would’ve made any difference; he could sleep through a category five hurricane. once you set the controller on the small coffee table, you reached for the glasses that squished against his nose.

he didn’t stir as you nudged his shoulder gently. at first you felt bad about having to wake him, but the distinct memories of him whining about his shoulder hurting after sleeping on the couch flashed through your mind.

“mingi…” you whispered softly, nudging him again, “mingi, wake up.”

after the third nudge he muttered something, though you could quite tell what. with your hand resting on his should as he pushed his face further into the pillow beneath his head, you sighed and moved to get up. but before you could register it, a hand wrapped around your write and pulled you down on the couch, legs tangling with yours and his other hand keeping you close by the small of your back.

you held your breath as he began moving you, practically trapping you beneath his large body as he drags himself halfway on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. his short, washed-out pink hair tickled your cheek as he lifted his head to look at you. you would’ve laughed at the tired expression of his face, all pouting lips and squinting eyes.

“i tried to wake you.” your voice came out a lot higher than you intended, not realising you almost felt flustered at your current position.

his eyes fluttered shut again and he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, making you tense for a moment before relaxing. his voice gravelly in his newly awake state, he spoke against the soft skin of your neck, “why”

“you always complain about your neck hurting when you sleep on the couch, i was trying to get you to move and sleep in your bed but you wouldn’t wake up.”

your answer has him humming understandingly, nuzzling his face further into your neck. your best friend was usually quite affectionate, however, this felt different from the more common cuddles during movie nights or occasional hand holding. you chalked it up to him not being fully awake, mind still hazy from his nap. at least until you felt the first of his kisses along your neck. they were so soft they were easy to miss, yet still the unmistakable brush of his lips that you sometimes found yourself wanting to feel against yours.

still, you didn’t protest, tentatively moving one of your hands up to brush through the hair at the nape of his neck. this only encouraged him, another hum vibrating against your skin. a soft sigh slipped passed your lips as his large hand moved to the small of your back to your waist, thumb carressing you through your flimsy white tanktop. with his body pressed against yours and his lips kissing anywhere he could reach comfortably, you relaxed, letting yourself lean your head back against the plush sofa.

“mingi,” you finally pulled yourself together to ask, “what are you doing?”

“just… just holding you,” he muttered against you. his kisses were tender and didn’t hold any sense of urgency, lazy presses against your pulse. “you feel nice, you smell nice, and you’re so warm. let me just hold you for a bit, please?”

it almost sounded like he was pleading when he asked you to let him do so and you found it hard to say no. in general, you found it hard to say no to anything he asked. so, you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper and making him lift his head to look down at you. moments turned into seconds which turned into minutes as your surroundings blurred and all you could think of was the tender look in his eyes as he leaned forward. he paused, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop, but at the sight of the slightest of nods he couldn’t hold himself back from brushing his lips against yours. his hand on your waist tightened for a second as he pulled away, holding himself up with his other hand, forearm supporting him as his face hovered above yours.

he took in the sight of you beneath him, gaze flickering all over your face as he tried to memorise the sparkling look of your round eyes and your tiny puffs of air. there’s a smile tugging at his plush lips, barely noticeable but enough to make your cheeks warm even more. and when he spoke, his voice was no longer rough with sleep, but a gentle whisper only for you to hear.

“please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

you almost laughed at the endearing question but opted to smile instead, your hands cupping his cheeks. “no, this isn’t dream.”

“good,” he spoke through a sigh, sounding oh so content, “you’re just so pretty.”

a comfortable silence washed over you as he lowered himself to press another kiss against your lips. this time he let himself stay longer, he found the taste of your lips addicting, getting lost in the way they feel against his tongue as he swiped it along your bottom lip. when you parted for air, he rested his forehead against yous, breath mingling. the rest of the night was spent through lazy kisses and loving words that left you confused at the relationship you shared with him. but before you could ask about it, you had both fallen asleep, wrapped in each others arms on the couch you had tried so hard to get him off of.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

[gimmethatagustd]

you could wear my hat | kth

It's hard for Taehyung to ensure no one's getting into trouble at the beach when you look so cute in his snapback.

○ Pairing: Lifeguard!Taehyung x f!Reader

○ Rating: Mature

○ Genre: Beachtown, fluff (ig?), in the words of Paramore, crush crush crush

○ 17 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Lifeguard)

○ Word Count: 1,503

○ Warnings: TH has lots of tastefully dirty thoughts, tension, an almost kiss

○ Notes: I wrote this for @daechwitatamic even though she didn't ask for it. Rest in Peace our Short King, Easy Mac 😔🙏🏽 I miss you every day. Also, I know the hats in the photos aren't actually snapbacks okay?? The summary sounded cuter when I said "snapback" instead of "dad hat" and it fits the song OKAY?? Let me cook.

○ Post Date: July 14, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? Wear My Hat - Mac Miller

“Can I wear your hat?”

You lean against one of the tall, wooden legs of the lifeguard chair, your bare shoulder pressed against its sandy surface. Sand sticks to your sweaty skin in a few other places Taehyung notices when you walk over to where the team of lifeguards gather to prepare for the day: your knees, the backs of your thighs, the curve of your asscheeks that your cheeky swimsuit bottoms expose when you walk.

He’s looking respectfully, of course. As a lifeguard, Taehyung sees bodies of all shapes and sizes, large expanses of skin in all colors, and many faces alight with the sun's warmth. Bodies are bodies, and Taehyung knows how to appreciate all of them. He especially likes yours. Respectfully.

“Wear my hat?”

“Mhm, I forgot mine at home, and it’s so bright out,” you explain with a smile that makes Taehyung’s stomach queasy like the rock of a boat during a storm. Weirdly, he likes it.

With his head bent, Taehyung raises it slightly, just enough to look at you through his eyelashes. The position makes his eyes big and round, giving him an innocent look that people fawn over — not that he knows. Taehyung knows he’s objectively attractive, but he’s mostly oblivious to the whispers and giggles in his wake when he patrols the beach every summer morning, a snapback slid over his slicked back hair, broad chest on display, a few thin necklaces resting against his pecs. It doesn’t matter what the whispers and giggles mean unless they’re coming from you.

“The sun is barely in the sky,” Taehyung points out, and your smile widens.

It’s relatively early, and the sun is only just emerging from the ocean. The sky is still painted in swooping swaths of pinks and baby blues, with a few wispy clouds as accent marks. Taehyung wishes a camera or his painter’s hand could accurately replicate the feeling he gets when he watches the sky turn like this or the feeling he gets when he turns his attention back to you and thinks you’re looking at him as if you feel the same way.

“But it will be soon.” A counterargument Taehyung can’t possibly rebut.

With an exaggerated sigh, Taehyung grabs the bill behind his head and pulls his hat off. He’s quick to run his hand through his hair, pushing it back so it doesn’t fall into his eyes now that he doesn’t have his hat to hold it into place.

He holds out his hat for you to take, snatching it back just before your fingers curve around the bill.

“Taehyung.”

“Just make sure you give it back.” He shakes his hat as if to scold you in advance for any bad thoughts you may have about potentially keeping it.

“Of course.”

“I’m serious.”

He lets you snatch it out of his hand and tries not to smile at the devious, triumphant little look you give him when you slip the hat. You wear it backward, too, and Taehyung returns his focus to lathering his skin with thick sunscreen because he doesn’t know what to do with the hurricane stirring in his chest.

You look cute wearing his hat. There’s something about the masculinity of it contrasting with the particular brand of femininity that comes with a pretty girl sunbathing on the beach, smelling of coconut that carries in the wind, designer sunglasses reflecting Taehyung’s sunkissed disheveledness that comes with the territory of spending his days in nature, a romance novel tucked under your arm as you pick out a beach chair near the lifeguard stand. You’re Taehyung’s personal nightmare wrapped up in polka dots and sweaty cleavage he wouldn’t mind licking the salt off of.

“I’ll stay right here,” you promise as you drape a towel over the chair, “that way, you can monitor me so I don’t make off with your prized possession.”

The hat doesn’t even matter. It’s denim so worn that it has turned soft and boneless. The name of the beach is embroidered on the front in a font meant to look like messy handwriting, and it’s so sunbleached that it looks vintage even though Taehyung bought it a few years ago at the touristy gift shop down the street, back when he had a buzzcut and forgot to bring a hat to work. Preventing a scalp sunburn was worth putting up with the stupid gift shop prices.

“My shift hasn’t started yet…” Taehyung doesn’t know why he tells you. You can probably tell. Another lifeguard is sitting on the stand right now; Taehyung is early.

Lowering the beach chair so you can lie flat on it, you rotate his hat so the bill is in the front again, shielding your face from the sun well enough that you can take off your sunglasses.

“Then sit.”

It doesn’t take telling Taehyung twice. He immediately plops on the edge of the beach chair beside you, close enough that there’s only enough space in between your chairs for him to fit his legs.

“What are you reading?”

“Some filth from BookTok. Toxic relationships, violence, smut, all that fun stuff.” You toss your book to him, watching with a sly smile as he flips it over to read the summary.

You look sweet, Taehyung’s favorite brand of Neapolitan ice cream that drips down the cone and curls around his wrist on a hot summer day. There’s an edge to you, though, like Taehyung might get a brain freeze if he consumes you as eagerly as he wants to.

Brain freezes don’t stop people from eating ice cream.

“Do you like it?” he asks, returning the book. Your fingers rub against each other, sandy and rough, and Taehyung thinks he wouldn’t mind such roughness dragged across his back.

“The book? Or toxic relationships?” You grin when Taehyung scoffs, both of you knowing what he meant. “The writing is exactly what you’d expect from a book bored suburban millennial housewives would recommend on TikTok, but it’s entertaining.”

Taehyung nods, unsure of what else to say. He isn’t usually this quiet, but you have a way of making his head go blank. It reminds him of how he feels when swimming at the community pool. With the pool water lapping at his ears every time he comes up for air, only to lower into the water with each stroke, Taehyung can’t hear anything but the comforting silent sound of being underwater. Swimming is the only time his mind is still long enough for him to let go of the chatter he normally hears inside his head, to go blank.

And then there’s you, teasing and hard to read. Taehyung curls his hands around the edge of the beach chair and tries to ground himself when you slowly sit up to face him, knees knocking into each other.

“You’re really stereotypical,” you say with a laugh.

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows and blinks a few times, stomach dipping when you squeeze one of his shoulders.

“What?”

“You’re so spacy. Such a surfer dude, nothing but sand and seaweed in there, huh?” You slide your hand to the crook of his neck so you can lift your fingers high enough to play with the hair at his nape. “It’s cute.”

“I’m smart,” Taehyung says blankly, and you laugh again.

He thinks you’re going to kiss him. You’re close enough to do it, with your knees pressed to his and your toes wiggling in the sand with his. Coconut and salt, that’s what he knows your lips would taste like. What your body would taste like if he could lay you down on the beach chair and feel what it’s like to touch your skin, only the occasional splotch of sand as a layer between you.

You pinch a strand of hair and pull lightly, effortlessly coaxing Taehyung to tilt his head backward slightly.

“What time does your shift end?” You’re so close now. Taehyung thinks he can taste your words.

“I work six-hour shifts,” Taehyung speaks as softly as the morning waves lap against the shore.

“Maybe we could—”

A shout from the lifeguard stand makes Taehyung flinch, knocking off your hand from his neck.

“Taehyung-ah! Let’s go!” One of the other lifeguards motions for Taehyung to get up.

By the time Taehyung returns his gaze to you, you’re leaning forward to press your lips to his cheek, just beside his mouth. It's quick, barely there, but it's everything.

“Better get up there, pretty boy,” you say with another grin that turns Taehyung’s stomach into a whirlpool. “I’ll have to leave before you’re done, but it’ll be pretty sunny by then. Might need to keep this.”

You tap the bill of Taehyung’s hat as you open your book, no longer looking at Taehyung. He thinks it’s intentional teasing and finds that he likes it.

“I guess I’ll have to hunt you down to get it back,” Taehyung brushes off sand from his legs and ignores another shout of his name.

“I guess you will.”

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). 

[just-some-random-blogger]

Stop The Feeling

"I cannot bare it when I am not around," you confess, eyes watering. Gwayne stills, "oh."

Gwayne Hightower x Cargyll!Reader | 800< | cw: fem!reader, fuck boy!Gwayne, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GWAYNE BRAIN ROT X CHAPPELL ROAN good luck babe 😁

What started as innocent admiration ended with a hurricane.

And now as it stormed over King's Landing, you walk the halls to the Kingsguard's quarters to visit your brothers, holding a basket in your hands.

You nod at a knight that greets you. You arrive and look for Arryk or Erryk but instead find someone else entirely.

"Gwyane."

The man leaned against the wall smirks, "Lady Cargyll."

You lower your gaze as he walks over. You correct yourself and curtsy, "Ser Gwayne."

He waves a hand and shake his head, "I heard of your father's arrival to King's Landing and knew you would come to see your brothers."

You keep your eyes on your basket, "you know me well, my lord."

"Yes," he drops his head to steal a glance of your face, "will you also grace me with a visit?"

You look around when you hear voices and step back from him, "I do not think-"

"I've missed you," he says, making you finally turn to him.

Your lips part, "you have?"

"Sister!" two voices say at once.

Both you and Gwayne turn and see the twin Kingsguard walking towards you, dripping wet at that. You beam at them, "I've bought you some food."

Arryk comes forward first, kissing your cheek. He tells you were stationed outside, thus why they were wet. Erryk on the other hand raises a brow at Gwayne, "Lord Hightower."

Gwayne smiles, "Ser Arryk."

"Erryk," he corrects.

Arryk and you turn to Gwayne. The latter laughs, "my mistake."

"Did you need anything, my lord?" Arryk asks. You feel your stomach roll when both your brothers turn to him. Gwayne casually shakes his head, "I merely chaperoned the lady," he looks out the window, "tis raining after all."

You scoff softly at the excuse. Still, you pull a smile, "I nearly slipped and he caught me."

Your brothers turn to you.

"My lord was just leaving."

They turn back to him. Gwayne raises his brows and opens his mouth. He nods slowly, "yes," then quickly, "yes, I was just."

Gwayne walks off and hears your chatter with your brothers. The cold brought by the rain makes his fingers tingle. He wonders if you'll be coming to his chambers. He sprints to the door when he hears a knock.

His face brightens at the sight of you, "I see you've missed me as well."

You don't speak; you reply with a kiss.

As the cold rain masks the sounds of pleasure that drips from your mouth, you find warmth in his arms which trap you beneath him. And once it's all over, you press your cheek on his back and reconnect the constellations on his skin with your fingers.

"How long will you be staying?" Gwayne mutters against his pillow, head heavy, voice sleepy.

You lick your lips, "do you love me?"

His eyes open.

You pull away.

He turns to you with knit brows. You stare at each other for a while and find your answer in the silence. You shake your head and turn to your hands.

Gwayne calls your name and clutches your cheek, "I care for you."

"Then won't you marry me?"

He stares at you. The rain pours. Again, you find your answer in the silence.

You press your lips into a thin smile. You did not think you would be this indifferent to the truth. Mayhap it's because deep down, you already knew what he'd say, "perhaps one day you will want to."

He smiles. You hate how lovely it is even while he was crushing your heart, "one day." Gwayne kisses the back of your hand, "but tonight, we sleep."

You nod the way you always do.

When the rain ends and the morning comes, Gwayne finds himself alone in his bed. It was not yet up, and you'd normally wake him before leaving, thus why he finds himself frazzled.

He spends the morning looking for you, the afternoon worrying about you, and when the night begins to bleed through the sky, he finally decides to ask one of your brothers of your whereabouts.

"My sister?" Erryk says, knitting his brows, "she is with the prince, my lord."

He tilts his head, "the prince?"

Erryk nods, "aye. Prince Aemond took her on dragonback."

"Aemond?" he blurts, face hardening, "what business does my nephew have with your sister?"

Gwayne watches as the man's face contorts. The kingsguard speaks slowly, "they are betrothed and to be married in a fortnight."

Gwayne's face goes white.

Erryk narrows his eyes at him, a deep line forming between his brows, "are you well, s-"

"I'm well," he scoffs, breaking into a laugh. He shakes his head, "I am merely taken aback by the sudden news."

The knight's face twists in confusion.

"You must be happy for your sister's betrothal."

He nods, "I am happy for her love match."

"Love match!" Gwayne laughs again, slapping Erryk's armoured shoulder, "love match, say he!"

Erryk raises his brows, "my lord-"

"What happy news!" laughs the Hightower, "bid your sister my congratulations."

"I wi-" he stops himself when the Gwayne suddenly departs.

[novemberheart]

{overview} While your relationship with the pack is seemingly off to a good start, you can't help but feel like this may not be the pack for you.

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, cursing, impersonating a medical professional, cursing, crying, female reader

Chapter 4 <- Chapter 5 -> Chapter 6

Simon had fallen asleep again soon after that. You continued to project your scent on and off for the next fifteen minutes before the door creaked open.

“How’s it going?” Kyle whispered like he was afraid to wake the sleeping beast. You smiled at him over your shoulder.

“Fine.”

He entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He grabbed a chair by the door, setting it down a few inches away from you.

“He woke up for a bit.”

“He seem out of it?”

You shook your head. “Not really. We talked a tiny bit.”

“He was nice to you,” Kyle questioned. You quickly nodded your head. “Then he was out of it.” he chuckled a grin across his face. You rolled your eyes before they flickered to Simon. The washcloth suddenly looked all too dry. You stole it from Simon's forehead heading into the bathroom to refresh it. You set it back on his forehead, another pleased grumble echoing in his chest.

As you sat you couldn't help but notice the slight awe on Kyle's face.

“Been here for three hours and have already tamed the beast.” he sighed, shaking his head. You giggled looking back at the hulking man.

“I haven't seen a beast yet.” you smiled.

“How are they doing in there?” John questioned as soon as Kyle closed the door.

“Turned him into a house cat.” Kyle chuckled. It was time for the shift change. Kyle being replaced by John.

“Better than I thought the outcome would be.” He rumbled back. He quickly checked to make sure the hallway was clear before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Kyle's temple. “You and Sunshine swing back to pick her up for dinner then bring her home, yeah?”

“You got it, Cap.”

“You don't have a phone or something?” Simon grumbled, causing you to jolt out of your slump. His russet eyes peering over at you.

“I do.” you stumbled. “It was raining when I got here so I slipped it into my backpack so it didn't get all wet,” you explained. “Left it back in the room.”

“What room did you get?” he hummed. His voice was groggy and you quickly got up to fetch more water.

“The one between yours and John.”

“That's the good one.” he took the straw between his teeth, finishing it with a quick thanks. The nurse had just come in around twenty minutes ago giving him another round of painkillers. The little movement he had slipped further away. “Johnny plays rain sounds to fall asleep, like we're in the middle of a hurricane every night.”

You chuckled at this. Throwing the cup away.

“I might like that. I enjoy the rain.” you sighed. You weren't sure if you could bear to sit down anymore. Your legs becoming sore and your butt going numb. “What about Kyle?” you hummed.

“He's a good boy.” Simon complimented. His hazy eyes watched as you walked back and forth in front of his bed. You stopped suddenly, your hands resting on the footboard.

“Are you hungry? You haven't eaten since I've been here,” you questioned.

“Like you can read my mind, pup.” he complimented. “Nurses ‘round here are stingy.” he huffed.

“I can hunt something down for you.” you offered, already heading towards the door.

“Take one of the lads with you,” he ordered after you. “Walking around base smellin’ like that,” he said the last part just below a whisper.

“He's hungry,” you told John as soon as you opened the door. He looked up from his book, already moving to stand. “Is there a cafeteria here?”

“I think they have a small one. But I'm pretty sure it's just for nurses and doctors, honey.” John looked around, rubbing at his eyes. Part of you wanted to grab him and find a bed for him to sleep in. “Should be bringing him dinner soon.”

“You know what floor?” you asked.

His brows furrowed, surprised you hadn't shown any signs of determent. “One with the kitchen I think,” he answered. You nodded your head in thanks before beginning your trek towards the elevator. Floor five was where you needed to go. John followed you, his eyes reflecting with curiosity.

“Stay here,” you commanded. He stopped just outside the elevator watching you carefully. You peeked your head around the corner. There was a small line of about ten hospital personnel lining up to get some food. Lucky for you there was a cleaning cart a few feet away from you with a white coat thrown on it. You reached out grabbing it, working fast to put it on and hold it shut with your arms. It was long on you. Too long. Hopefully, no one would pay too much attention.

John leaned against the wall suppressing a chuckle at your newfound mission. You disappeared around the corner, sneaking your way into the line. The person in front of you lifted their nose taking a few deep sniffs before looking at you.

“Just came from the omega ward. You know how that is.” you grinned- admittedly a bit awkwardly. The person gave you a small nod before turning their back to you. You parted with a breath you didn't know you were holding. When it was finally your turn you grabbed a heaping spoonful of rice and some type of beef stew. You also grabbed a brownie. Not for Simon but for you for successfully achieving your mission. You quickly rounded the corner, handing the bowl to John, peeling your coat off and tossing it back on the cart.

“I must say that was quite impressive.” John smiled at you.

“Thanks.” you beamed, taking a bite out of your brownie. He watched you for a long moment. Between the sparkle in your eyes and the smell of happy omega, you were hard to take his eyes off of. A rose in the desert. As the elevator doors opened you took the bowl from him practically bounding over to Simon's door. You seem to have built a bond with him fast. Unexpected. But it made John optimistic.

“Special delivery,” you smirked, leaving the door open in case John wanted to come in.

“No you didn't,” Simon growled. If he wasn't so medicated he would've skyrocketed up in his bed. “How’d you swing that?” he questioned. You put his food down on his tray, searching around for the lever that would sit him upright.

“Can you sit up or will that hurt you?” you checked, just as John came in closing the door.

“I’ll survive.” Simon insisted, his pupils dilating.

“She went undercover for that, better enjoy it.” John sighed, sitting down. You finally found the up arrow, slowly raising Simon towards the tray.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhhm,” John smirked. He had a proud look on his face. A look that you're not sure you've ever seen before. You flushed, looking back at Simon, whose eyes were drifting between the two of you. You grabbed Simon's right hand, placed a spoon in it, and set it on the tray. He moved as quickly as possible to scoop up the food. You sprang into action slowly, peeling his mask up to his nose.

“Might as well take it off, pup. Seen most of me by now anyway.” you bit the inside of your cheek, pulling the band away from one ear and peeling it off the other. John stayed silent, his eyes watching the both of you like it was a suspense film.

Simon was handsome. Not in the rugged way John was, or the pretty way Kyle was, or even the flat-out hot way Johnny was. He was a fighter. His nose was bent and bumpy, scars from badly healed wounds littering his face. His jaw was strong, covered in a five o'clock shadow from not being able to shave. His eyes easily described as dead. His lips were full, but you quickly averted your eyes not wanting to get caught staring at them. You made yourself busy by preparing another cup of water and placing it near his tray. Then taking the washcloth that had fallen into his lap in the bathroom to dry.

“You look better.” you heard John murmur.

“I've had a bit of help.” you heard Simon mutter back. Your first instinct was to believe he was speaking about you. The satisfied omega in you quickly shook off when you convinced yourself he was probably talking about a nurse. Course. All you did was put a wet rag on him and give him some water.

You re-emerged from the bathroom, eyeing the brownie you left in the entryway. It felt rude to eat it now. Simon was eating at a snail's pace, but he seemed content that he was eating.

“The boys are going to swing back around to pick you up for dinner then take you home.”

Home? It felt like a leap. One that you weren't quite sure you were ready for. While they had all been nice to you there was something strange in the air. Maybe it was just because they were all bonded and you weren't, but you felt like you were imposing. You also tried not to think about the fact that the only reason they wanted you in the first place was for the healing properties of omegas. Would they want to get rid of you after Simon healed?

“Honey?” John spoke again. You shook yourself out of your thoughts, nodding your head in agreement.

“Sounds good.” you smiled nervously. He eyed you up and down, before letting it rest.

“So tell me more about this undercover mission.” Simon drawled, between bites.

“I impersonated a doctor.” you shared.

“Stole the coat and everything.” John chuckled, putting his feet up on the same ledge you had.

“Isn't that a felony,” Simon smirked, causing your throat to dry. You hadn't thought about the consequences. What if someone found out? Would you get in trouble? I mean it wasn't like you were passing out pills and injecting people. “Relax, pup. Your biggest concern should be this one recruiting you.” Simon shot, sluggishly nodding his head towards John.

“Now he's right about that.” John smiled, patting your knee in comfort.

By the time Kyle and Johnny had come to collect you, you were starving. The focus of projecting your scent made you burn more fuel. Plus the added emotional toll of being in a new environment, with new people and scents.

It was nice to be by the betas again. Less pressure. They had you sandwiched between them as they walked, people eyeing you in the hallway.

“Hungry, Peaches?” Johnny asked, looking over at you. His hand was ghosting over the small of your back. You just assumed he was guiding you in unfamiliar territory, but in reality, it was a claim.

“Very.” you groaned. Your stomach twists even more at the smell of food drifting throughout the halls. “Just hope for something good,” you added.

“I'm sure we can scrounge something up,” Kyle assured, holding open the cafeteria doors for you and Johnny. Luckily it was something good. A deconstructed shepherd's pie- which Johnny adamantly insisted wasn't even close to being accurate. You loaded up on extra mashed potatoes, the meat looking a little precarious.

“Have you ever gotten food poisoning from here?” you questioned, as you all worked through the line.

“No,” Kyle answered quickly, amusement in his eyes as they flickered over to Johnny.

“Aye. I may have once or twice.” Johnny practically mumbled.

“Cause you'll eat anything, mate.” Kyle snickered. “Decided the shrimp cocktail was worth trying,” Kyle explained, causing you to laugh.

The dessert was chocolate chip cookies. You resisted the urge to grab five of them, just taking one. Kyle added two more to your plate. “You can eat Johns and Simons. They won't mind.” he smiled down at you. You grinned, turning back to the front of the line.

“Can I get a to-go dinner?” Johnny asked once you got to the front. “This one's on mine too.” He nodded over to you, before swiping a blue card. The lunch lady nodded, passing him a takeout container.

“You had to pay?” you questioned, following Johnny as Kyle swiped his card.

“No. I think they just use it for tracking purposes. So they know how much everyone is eating.” he explained. You “oohed” before sitting down at the same table you had that afternoon.

“Is this your table or something?” you hummed already shoveling potatoes in your mouth. Johnny nodded his head through his stuffed mouth.

“Simon and John like it because they can see the whole cafeteria,” Kyle explained sitting down next to you. His scent blockers had begun to wear off because you caught a small whiff of fresh linen. The smell went directly to your brain and you could feel a tingle arising at the base of your head. It always amazed you how much closer you could feel to someone just after one sniff. You supposed that's why everyone around here wore scent blockers.

You wondered what John and Johnny smelt like.

“Paranoid bastards,” Johnny grumbled, with a slight pull of his lips.

‘Protective’. The word echoes in your head. It was every omegas dream. Be protected. Have an alpha that would protect you- a pack that would protect you. Kyle had already displayed that quality. A shiver ran up your spin at the thought of being something worth protecting. But you had never been deemed that before, why would that change? If Kyles's earlier behavior was anything it was probably just to check an alpha. It probably had nothing to do with you. You suddenly felt full.

They walked you back ‘home’ and you were halfway there when Johnny dipped out to give John his dinner.

“So how was your first day?” Kyle asked, holding open the front door for you.

“It was good.” you smiled tiredly, your hands rubbing your eyes. Truth be told it wasn't how you imagined your first day. You would often imagine your first day with your new pack. Everyone would be sitting around, getting to know each other, and it would feel as though all of you had known each other for a lifetime. Instead, you had spent most of your time with a drugged-up alpha. Maybe you had just been naive.

“Probably not what you had in mind, yeah?” Kyle lightly chuckled. You know he didn't mean it, but the chuckle had rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was the tiredness, or your headache, or the feeling of being let down. He was a beta. The drive to join a pack wasn't as strong for him as it was for an alpha or omega. He didn't seem to understand this was going to be the rest of your life. The only one who had really made an effort to get to know you was Johnny, but he seemed like he would be content chatting with the wall.

“Not really,” you admitted. You gave him a small smile before heading towards ‘your’ room. “I'll see you tomorrow, Kyle,” you finished. You wanted nothing more than to take a quick shower and go to sleep.

You dug your phone out of your bag noticing two missed calls from Kate, exactly fifteen minutes apart. You pressed her contact.

“You must be having fun.” She greeted picking up after one ring. You sighed, causing her to frown on the other end.

“It's alright,” you murmured, beginning to peel off your clothes. You suddenly realized that your bag was still packed.

“What's wrong.” her tone was a bit snappy, but not against you. She just wanted to get to the bottom of things.

“What's wrong is my bag is still packed.” you nearly whimpered, your knees hitting the ground. You rested against your bag, staring up at the ceiling trying to hold on to the tears.

“Are you tired?” Kate asked softly. Her tone was softened by a motherly one.

“Yes.” you huffed. “But that's not the reason I'm upset.” you continued.

“Talk to me.” she pressed. You could hear her shuffling on the other line and the slight squeak of a chair. You could picture her leaning back in her office chair, her forehead resting on her fingertips.

“They don't care about me,” you muttered. You suppressed the hurt whine that threatened to claw its way out of your throat. “They're just using me, Kate. I mean I show up, but I don't get time to settle in or unpack my stuff. Then I get put straight to work like I'm some miracle worker who's going to get Simon better overnight.” you paused for a moment finally letting a few fat tears roll down your cheek. “I'm not saying they’re mean- they haven't done anything to make me feel unsafe. I just don't have a bond with any of them, Kate,” you used your discarded sweater to wipe at your face.

“I’ll talk to them.” Kate declared, causing your heart to drop.

“No!” you said- a bit too loudly. She growled on the other end.

“Well, what can I do?” Kate annunciated. You know she was at her wit's end. If there was one thing Kate Laswell hated it was the feeling of losing control. “I know you're upset, honey. I am too. But it's your first day. Please give it some time.” she pleaded.

“I will.” you agreed. “I just needed to vent.” you sighed with a sniffle. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for listening,” you said softly.

“Of course, honey.” she had returned to normal. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Around the same time?” She felt out. You nodded your head before agreeing verbally.

You tossed your phone on ‘your’ bed, before beginning to rip at the zippers of your duffle. You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself, blinking back some surprise when you smelt a familiar hint of fresh linen in the air. You brushed it off.

Meanwhile, Kyle had his ear pressed against your door, his heart racing a million miles a minute. They had a lot of making up to do.

Hi everyone! 🤎 The story will begin to pick up after this I promise! Thanks for the support and I’ll see you all in two days for chapter 6!

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay, so this is a little inspired by @dazzle02's post right here. Enjoy! 🥰

"Let me move in with you," said Evan.

And.

And Tommy looked up at Evan.

Blinking.

There wasn't anything particularly special about tonight. Neither of them had that bad of a shift the day before, all things considered. It was after dinner. They were both in pajamas watching Shark Week. Besides Shark Week, there wasn't anything life-altering or important that would have made Tommy remember this lazy Thursday night.

But then again, something amazing always happened with Evan around.

Life-altering was Evan's modus operandi.

They met when Tommy was flying them into a hurricane. They got together after Evan maimed one of his best friends. Their second official date was at a last-minute hospital wedding when the original wedding had been canceled.

Dating Evan was nothing Tommy had ever experienced before.

And Tommy never wanted to stop.

"What?" Tommy laughed, not sure if he heard that right.

He was staring up at Evan. His head was in Evan's lap and Evan just - he kept playing with the curls in Tommy's hair; staring down at Tommy like he never wanted to look away from Tommy as he said, "Let me move in with you."

And it harkened back to that beer Evan still owed Tommy.

That Tommy was never going to let Evan give him. No, Tommy loved the idea of still being tied like that. To forever joke about the beer Evan still owed him.

"You want to move in with me?" asked Tommy.

And it wasn't that Tommy was against it. The moment Evan brought it up, all Tommy wanted to say was yes, yes, of course, Evan, yes.

But.

They had only been dating maybe four months at this point. Tommy wasn't against the breakneck pace Evan seemed the most comfortable in, but at the same time, that was a big decision. And that wasn't to say that Tommy didn't believe that Evan would want this, but it was always good to be absolutely sure.

"You've got a kickass garage. You've got the best beer in town. I heard a beast lives here. Why wouldn't I want to too?" asked Evan.

"Evan."

"Tommy."

Tommy snorted.

"Tommy, I hate my loft. I hate my fucking loft. I got it with my girlfriend Aly because she liked it, and then she almost immediately broke up with me. I haven't been able to decide on a damn couch in that place. I don't know why I have two balconies," said Evan, "But none of that is even why I'm offering this."

Tommy laughed.

"Offering?"

"Tommy, I - I miss you," said Evan with all his heart; a little broken.

Tommy reached out; placed a hand on Evan's cheek.

"Evan. I'm right here," said Tommy softly.

"I miss you when I wake up and you hadn't slept over. I miss you when I try out a new dish and you're not there to taste-test it. I miss seeing you just randomly reading Chef's Choice or The Dos and Donuts of Love or - or How to Find a Princess or Better Than People or The State of Us on your couch whenever I walk into your house with the key you gave me. I miss the lavender you insist on making your house smell like. I miss you when I get in my car and realize we won't be carpooling. That you won't insist on driving and I won't get to play you music as we start our drive early so we can take a scenic way to my work or yours. I just miss you. All the time. I want to fucking live in your pocket. Which is a lot. I know. But I want that. I want you. And I'm so sure you want that too."

And.

And okay, if they were being honest.

"Evan, I - I wake up and it feels empty if you're not here. If you're not sprawled on top of me when I wake up. If you're not laughing and insisting that we take a shower together. That if we do, we'll be saving water. Despite the fact that you know full well that it takes double the time with how distracted we get. I miss you when I walk up to my coffee maker and you're not there to play the 'guess how Tommy takes his coffee' game that I think you're failing on purpose at this point - "

"No, I'm not," said Evan like a liar.

"Oh, I know you are," laughed Tommy, "But I kind of love that because it's still fun. And I miss you when you're not there to get into my Mustang with that jerry-rigged contraption of yours that somehow forces Bluetooth to work on my stereo. And how you keep showing me all these new and amazing songs I never would have dreamed of finding on my own."

"People are sleeping on Kehlani," said Evan.

"Yeah. I know," agreed Tommy, "And - and I miss you when I don't get to kiss you goodbye and hear you say you'll see me after your shift. And I miss you when you're not there to pick me up or if I'm not there to pick you up and you kiss me hello and ask how my day was and tell me all about yours. And I'm not saying we need to be glued together. But I am saying that every moment I get with you makes my whole day better. My week. My month. My year. My life. And, uh. I don't know, maybe you owe me moving into my house."

Evan laughed.

"Oh, I owe you now, huh?"

"I mean, you offered. Pay up. Move in."

Evan laughed harder, leaning down to kiss Tommy. And it was an awkward angle, and the kiss was a bit messy, but it left Tommy breathless; left Tommy swimming in overwhelming yes.

"Okay. I guess I'm moving in," said Evan happily, his smile soft and so excited.

"Yeah, you are," said Tommy as he pulled Evan back into another mind-blowing kiss.

[urhoneycombwitch]

rommate thoughts

getting up early in the morning to go to the bathroom and the world slows down down down to a viscous quality when you pass your roommate's door... are they still asleep? or will you bear witness to early morning noises? and what story will tell you? the sharp clicking and clacking of hurried dressing and rushed getting ready? lazy yawns and rustling sheets as they turn around for ten more minutes? maybe soft singing to shoo some lingering nightmares away? or other... soft things?

you know? <3

foreword: oh, Somna. I needed this softness today. this one goes out to those who might need it, too <3

cw: mentions of prescription drugs and weed

wc: 1.2k

___

When the last of the summer sun slips behind the edge of the city, you and Eddie open all the windows in the apartment.

Moving with practiced fluidity, you slide the little window above the sink into place, the larger one by the breakfast nook gets the same treatment; Eddie’s tall enough to reach the hand crank for the pane overlooking the shower, then ducks into both of your rooms to undo the last two latches. 

You talk the whole time, exchanging laughter and comments even on opposite ends of the apartment. Cool night air floods the whole space, lush and floral from the hydrangea bush on the ground floor. This is the only ritual that makes sleeping in the summer months bearable. 

Some nights, Eddie rolls up and you choose the record, legs slung over each other laps, talking over the hazy smoke and crooning speakers. Others, you get takeout and watch whatever’s good on TV, Eddie’s legs making the perfect lean-to for your back. 

Some nights, you fall asleep on the couch- when this happens, come morning, there’s always a blanket tucked carefully around your form. Others, Eddie’s the first to drop- cheek smushed to your thigh, snoring lightly. You’re always gentle with him, rubbing his shoulder to get him up and in the comfort of his own bed, singing his arm around your shoulders as you walk him down the hall.

Last night, both of you turned in early. Eddie’s got a bad case of allergies, and you were tired from work, so you took your respective medicine and leave, evening ritual shortened and performed apart with just the bedroom windows.

In the morning, the air of your room is still cool. Birds twitter with the rise of the sun. Soon, it will be time to close everything up, to keep the temperature down and the summer heat out. For now, you yawn, stretch, kick your way out of the comforter, and pad down the hall.

Eddie’s door is slightly ajar. His room is dark, but you can just make out the tangle of his curls on his pillow, sheets tucked under his chin covering the length of his body. You move on carpeted footsteps, approaching bedside with quiet intention.

Without his eyes on you, it’s easier to indulge, taking your time to drink in his sleeping face. You sink to your knees beside the head of the bed for a better look- in the muted morning light peeking through his blackout curtains, Eddie looks peaceful. 

His normal is theatrics, raised brows, sweeping expressions that draw you in and ebb like tides. In dreamland, he looks years younger, smoothed brow and lips parted slightly, breathing steady and sure. 

“Hey.” It’s barely a whisper. You pair it with a soft touch just under his bangs, skimming your fingertip across his forehead. “Eddie. Gonna wake up?”

He must have taken Benadryl last night- he’s usually first to wake, tapping on your door with breakfast options and being a hurricane of noise until you’re forced to join the party. 

You have the simple joy of watching Eddie’s face as he returns to you, to the waking world- a twitch of his lip, a couple of long, slow blinks. Consciousness crawls to the surface, leaves him rosy-cheeked and frowning, chasing your hand with his temple like a puppy.

You lay your fingers flat to his skull, thumb at the indent of his nose, and Eddie sighs, content. His eyes flutter shut again when you speak again. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm.” The sheets shift as he lifts a heavy arm to stretch over his head, revealing a bare torso littered with 

ink. “Z’you?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good. ‘M gonna… get up ‘n make breakfast…” His words are clunky, slurred and stuck to each other, lids heavy with sleep still. 

From the floor, you sink a bit lower, scratching softly at the back of his head, grinning with amusement. “I don’t think you’re allowed to operate a stove while under the influence.”

His frown deepens, but he won’t make it stick, not for any length of time around you. Faux-upset ebbs, recedes, floods into a tired smile that takes up half his face. “Uh-huh. Might burn my eyebrows off. Would you still love me?”

Pretending to give it some serious thought, your hand slides down, a familiar weight at the side of his neck. “Hmm. Maybe we should stick to cereal today.”

“Asshole,” Eddie replies, fond and trying to draw out the jokes, sliding his own hand to your wrist to keep it in place. “What the hell. Can’t a guy lose his brows in peace?”

“We’ve got Cheerios, Golden Crisp, Cocoa Puffs-” Your valiant attempt to keep on track is overturned when Eddie tugs at your wrist with a whine.

“Christ. My brain is soup, maybe you can eat that ‘nd it’ll tide you over until I can move.” More insistent now, Eddie pulls at your elbow, then your upper arm, your other hand snapping out to brace on his mattress before you tip. “Jus’... lay with me for a bit.”

Closer now, your breath fanning over his ear as he pulls and you give your last bit of resistance- “You’re wearing boxers, right?”

“Jesus. You really think I’d subject you to the Morning Wood Show?”

“Okay.” You don’t sound half as exasperated as you’d like, moving with the help of his gravity; you sidle close to the wall, lying on your side and over the covers, propping your head up with one arm. “This bed really wasn’t made for two people.”

“Sure it is.” Eddie reaches for you again, and you go easy, let him pull you to his chest. Under your ear, his heart thumps, whooshing like a seashell that’s captured the sounds of the ocean. “See? Now will you kindly shut up. I’ve got meds to sleep off.”

“Coffee would help.” It’s a baiting tease. You don’t actually want to get up- far too comfy with the curve of his bicep across the blades of your shoulders. With your nose pressed to the hollow of his throat, you can smell everything that his skin has kept overnight- faded cologne, bar soap, sweat and earthy sleep.

“Shhhhutthefuckup before I eat your brains.” He already sounds like a faded version of himself, rasp lowering into that pre-dream tone. For comedic effect, Eddie opens his jaw to press the outline of his teeth to the crown of your scalp.

It makes you tremble with giggles, burrowing further into his body to get away. He soothes a palm down your back, and you settle again. 

Under your ear, his heart beats slower, then slower still, until you can feel the rumble of a snore build. Your lashes brush against his bare skin, lulled by the stillness of the room, the shared warmth of your bodies even through the layers of fabric.

When late morning arrives, you’ll make the coffee, and Eddie will do the dishes. For now, the air stays cool and ushers in the sort of slumber that only comes from sharing space with someone precious. 

[trashmouth-richie]

➶ pt 1 1/2: DULEX (the gnat) a mid/prequel || emperor geta x reader

➶ 18+ smut 🥀 this takes place somewhere after reader meets caracalla and geta the first night she comes to Palatine Hill and where part one ended.

➶pt i: dulci ut rosa {sweet as a rose🥀 } pt ii: vitiosus + deliciosus

pt iii: frangere me

Licking up the hot spend that threatened to spill from your lips, you looked up at your Emperor. Your knees had gotten used to the stone floor, the sand no longer bothering you as it cut through your skin. Geta’s groans were low and guttural, every time. They never swayed, and neither did you as he pumped your mouth full every night. 

His chin was tilted upward giving you a clear view of his thick neck. It resembled a tree trunk, a knob in the center where it bobbed with satisfaction, veining with cords that would tighten when he denied himself the pleasure of release. Some nights were longer than others, but they all started and ended the same way. 

You told him every detail of what Caracalla had said during your evenings with him. Even the minute details of what he nibbled on during the vesperna, which was mostly fish, sucking the bones between his teeth and then using it as a tool to dig out the tender flesh between his gums. 

Geta sometimes laughed at the things you told him. Other times he was angry, brooding beneath that glorious wave of honeypot curls. 

Tonight, he didn’t ask for the secrets immediately on his arrival. Gets simply looked you over from head to toe, and when his eyes finished their feast he turned, cocking his head for you to follow him. 

He walked with hands behind his back as he strolled an inch ahead of you, so close that if your hands and his were loose, they’d touch. He showed you around the palace, paintings with various strokes of colors making up different frescoes along the great walls. All of which made up the Roman Gods. Apollo and Diana in one showcasing the sun and the moon. Neptune, riding a massive stallion, a hurricane in his wake. 

It was exquisite, the different materials used to makeup each piece was fascinating. Geta admired silently, and when he spoke in his native language, you were surprised.

Latin was becoming less and less common, but when he spoke, it rolled off his tongue in eloquence. Pure, unbroken, seductive. Flowing in a way you hadn’t heard in years. You could listen to him for hours.

Further down another corridor led to a great display of busts of Emperors before himself. He paused at one that looked fairly new, the marble uncracked and pristine. Geta, moved his fingers along the base of the heavy stone uttering quietly, “pater meus.”

You stood before the behemoth looking alter, taking in the intricate carvings of the handsome face, one that looked nearly identical to the man staring back at it. Turning towards him you managed,  “Ita, Quomodo mortuus est?” 

A ripple of shock wove like a needle across his face. Geta looked at you before you spoke, “mortuus est ex morbo.” It was no secret that Caracalla and Geta’s father fell ill and died unexpectedly. 

Still, you’d never lost someone close to you before. 

“Me paenitet,” you whispered. Even though Geta was a strange man to understand, you were still sorry for his loss. Emperor Septimius Severus was a great man, powerful and demanding to those around him, but still loved by Rome. 

Geta looked at you with narrowed eyes, “death isn’t feared by warriors, only those who are weak are afraid of what lies beyond our world.” 

He looked as if he would say something else, but he never did, only jerking his head as if to shrug clear his mind before turning on his heel walking quickly the way you came. This time, he walked further ahead of you, his feet slapping the marble floor as he went.  A rolling sensation spurring in his nerves. 

Geta had times of showing brute strength, other times he was almost kind to you, a friend perhaps. But his mind seem to change like the direction of the wind, like he pushed down anything that could possibly make him happy, make him let go.

“Tell me what he’s done on this day,” he suddenly ordered over his shoulder, his voice back to the bark it usually had, “from first light to his chamber.” 

Stumbling over your words you began the lengthy, and extremely boring explanation of how Caracalla had spent his day. Before you could finish and before getting to the closed off corridor, Geta grabbed your arm pulling you down past the massive stone pillars. Into the open.

The humid air hung thick and wet on your skin. The moon was draped with clouds, a poor night for prey. With his finger pointing to the dirt, he motioned for you to kneel, and you looked at him startled. Out here, anyone could see you and report your trickery to one of the generals or worse, to Caracalla. 

Raising his eyebrows in protest, the pieces of the puzzle  seemed to fit as he assembled your hesitation, “No one will see your whore mouth as I fuck it, they are all tucked into their beds, or drunk.” 

Nodding curtly, you obey, slinking to your knees, only to be stopped by his hand and brought back to standing before him. A look you couldn’t place was etched onto his features, as if he was fighting himself in his head, holding himself back. 

Geta had been pissed beyond belief after visit his father’s busy. All he could do was be reminded of how his father left him here to rule with his brother. Caracalla wasn’t fit to be an Emperor. He was barely fit to be anything more than a wet dog. 

Rage had filled his head as he stomped back to the hallway that was tainted with his moans and the slurp of your gags. He wanted to brutalize your mouth, maybe he’d end up knocking out one of your teeth, or bruise your throat so terribly that you couldn’t swallow anything but liquid for a weeks.

But now as you stood before him, he suddenly felt a sense of calm. Geta was always sure of what he wanted, what he desired. Since your arrival, you somehow seemed to put his maddening thoughts at ease. Just seeing your eyes and the way the suffocated moon shone in them… he couldn’t keep this act up much longer. 

“Don’t… don’t move just yet,” he nearly whispered, releasing your arm and moving his fingers across your collarbone. His thumb outlined the marrow beneath the skin, and he moved to the curve of your jaw before placing the pads of his fingers on your lips.

He was right. They felt like the most expensive silk gold could buy, and for the first time in Geta’s life, he wanted to feel them on his own. 

He’d fucked practically all the women of Rome, yet he never allowed them touch him in that way. But watching your lips move when you spoke the native tongue back to him made his cock jump, and his chest tighten. They moved in such a seductionous manner he felt as though he was in a trance. Your voice hypnotized him, your lips the object of his innermost desires.

Without thinking anymore of it, Geta leaned in, aligning his lips to yours, as he melted on the hot humid night beneath the Gods and anyone else to witness— he melted into his first actual kiss. As he pulled away from you, a delicate humming noise tickled his eardrum, a pestering sound, barely audible, something he’d been hearing more and more frequently…

-🔆part 3 is already being written besties

latin translation:

dulex— gnat

pater meus— my father

Ita, Quomodo mortuus est?— yes, how did he die?

mortuus est ex morbo— he died from an illness

me paentit— i’m sorry

☻ taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @fallout-girl219 @hellfireadmin @all-will-be-well-love @anythinggoesemily

@eddiesguitarskills @prestinalove @palomahasenteredthechat @wiltinglovers @razzeith

@workingwndrz @probablyin-bed @songforeddiemunson

[absurdthirst]

Washed Up {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.4k

Warnings: Violent injuries, loss of eye, amnesia, recovery, growing feelings, oral sex (male and receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, infidelity through memory loss, recovered memory, angst, separation, loss, pregnancy, deadly threats

Comments: When Dave washes up on the beach in front of your house, gravely injured and without any memory of who he is, you give him a save place to recover. And a glimpse of the man he wants to be.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Dave looks up at Robert, one eye destroyed, and his arm hanging limply at his side. He's on his knees and he knows it's over. His killing spree. His life. It's all over. When he's pushed over the wall, he prays for a quick death and when his head hits the rocks, he feels at peace.

**** 

Death doesn't keep Dave in its grip for long. The man blinks, his body in agony as he expects to open his eyes and find himself in hell. That's where he should be. He should already be consumed by the flames but instead, he hears the waves lapping, birds flying overhead, and a woman's voice. It fades in and out and he closes his eyes again, the darkness overtaking his senses once again.

Living on the coast is beautiful and deadly. You had witnessed the destruction of the hurricane barreling along the coast through the latched shutters and listened to the howling winds as they clamored to get inside. Now, you are assessing the damage, luckier than most and cleaning up debris along the water that had been churned up and pushed ashore by the waves. Now calmer as they ripple on the sand. The clump of seaweed and debris you had been walking towards made you shout when you spotted an arm. 

“Oh my god!” Rushing over, you find that it’s a man. Immediately pushing your fingers against his throat, only to find a thready pulse. A heartbeat, even as weak as it is, is a heartbeat. “Sir! Sir!” You can’t risk moving him, but he’s on his back, opening an eye only to rear back when the eye socket is empty. A fresh wound from the damage to it. “Sir?” You cautiously open the other lid to find a blown pupil and you reach for your cell phone, praying the towers aren’t jammed or down from the storm.

****

Dave groans softly, his voice hoarse from swallowing so much sea water, and he can hear beeping. His eye flutters open, making him wince at the bright light above, and he doesn’t recognize where he is but when his sight focuses, he’s in a hospital room. “Relax.” He hears someone say and he obeys, unable to do anything but lay there, trying to piece together what happened but his mind is blank.

You shouldn’t be sitting in the chair beside this stranger’s bed, but you are. Hating that you have read his charts so many times that you know it by heart, you wonder how he survived the vicious attack. Lacerations and wounds, knife wounds, millimeters from having his spine severed. This man was lucky to be alive. You reach for his hand and squeeze gently, hoping that he can hear you. “Relax.” You murmur softly. “You’re safe.”

Dave slides into subconscious yet again, the voice of an angel lulling him to sleep. When he wakes again, the machines are still beeping but he is lucid. His eye opens and he tenses, remembering nothing but the voice. “Whe -where am I?” He chokes out, voice raspy and quiet from the ocean and lack of hydration.

“You’re in the hospital.” Sitting up from the little nap you had been taking, you immediately start checking his vitals on the monitor. “You’re safe.” You promise, knowing that above all else, that is what most people worry about when they wake up in unfamiliar surroundings. His head turns towards you, and you introduce yourself. “I’m the one that found you on my beach five days ago.”

“On the beach? What was I doing on the beach?” He rasps and you grab the cup of water, holding out the straw for him to take a sip. “That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me.” You chuckle nervously and Dave swallows down the water to clear his throat. His head aches as he tries to remember why. “I don’t - I don’t remember.”

“I was afraid of that.” You sigh softly, pulling the cup away from his lips when he leans back. “You had some swelling on your brain and had considerable trauma.” You explain. “And you were hypothermic. It sounds like you have amnesia.”

Dave blinks as if trying to force himself to remember. “I don’t remember anything.” He chokes, “and I can’t see properly. Why can’t I see properly?” He panics slightly, his hand coming up to his face and his eye widens as he discovers the bandage.

“You have sustained severe injuries.” You reach for his hands and gently take hold of them so he doesn’t rip off the bandages. “I’m afraid that you are missing your eye. The bandage is to let the injury heal properly and when you are healed, you can be fitted with a prosthetic.”

Dave chokes at the news of his missing eye. “Is - is there anything else missing? Am I - can I walk?” He asks, his chest heaving as he starts to panic until he calms himself down without a thought. Like previous training kicks in and he has no clue why his heart monitor isn’t skyrocketing.

You frown and watch his heartbeat barely jump even though he had just had a moment of complete panic. “You have knife wounds, but there wasn’t any spinal damage that we could see.” You promise. “Your reflexes are still intact. You should still have all your motor functions.”

He nods, in shock, but his body feels completely calm. It’s unnerving to say the least. “Okay.” He knows he needs to adjust to having a missing eye but he is calm enough to know that he should be able to walk. To function. “Do you remember your name?” You ask and he frowns, trying to remember but nothing comes into his mind. He shakes his head, “no, ma’am.”

You are disappointed but know that is common with the amount of injuries he had. Especially since he had head injuries. “That’s going make it harder to get you home.” You admit softly. “The police have been here and you didn’t have any ID in your clothes and your prints aren’t coming up in the system.” You give him a small, reassuring smile. “I’ve been calling you John, for John Doe.”

Dave snorts, “John. What is your name?” He asks and you tell him, “I’m a nurse here. Good thing too since you washed up outside of my house.” Dave nods, “so what happens now? If no one knows who I am?”

You bite your lip and sigh. “You will probably be discharged tomorrow, now that you are awake. Since you don’t know who you are or where you live, I’ll bring you home with me.” You had thought about it after a conversation with the police and you can’t just leave this man alone and without anywhere to turn. It’s as if he doesn’t exist.

Dave shakes his head and winces at the pain, “you don’t - you shouldn’t have to - I can go to a hotel or something. I don’t have any money but I will figure it out.” He says like it makes sense when it doesn’t at all. “You’re coming home with me.” You insist and he sighs, “I’ll make it up to you. When I get my identity back.” He promises, knowing it’s an empty one unless that actually happens.

“We can cross that bridge when we come to it.” You murmur softly. “Are you hungry? Or do you want to rest some more?” People are surprised at how tired they are after waking up from a comma or being deeply unconscious.

“I want to sleep.” He confesses, “then food.” He smiles softly and you chuckle, “no problem. Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You promise and watch as his eyes flutter closed. He falls asleep within moments and you go to get the doctor to tell them that the John Doe is awake. When Dave opens his eyes the next time, the machines are still beeping and he looks over to find you sitting in the chair. “How long have you been here?” He rasps, his voice thick with sleep.

“I haven’t left since I brought you in.” You confess, knowing that it makes you seem crazy, but you haven't been able to leave him alone. “I used the bathroom in your room to shower. I just-“ you shrug. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Dave is shocked but appreciative, his stomach twisting with something unknown. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” He murmurs and you stand, helping him sit up. “Are you hungry?” You ask and he nods, “I’ll get you a tray.” He watches you leave the room and he tries to remember anything about himself. Anything at all so he can discover his identity. He doesn’t want to be a burden on you.

The police have been informed that he’s awake, but that he has no memory of his life or his name. They don’t even bother to come out and tell you that he’s just non/existent in the system. Like he’s a ghost. You thank them and bring the tray back, setting it on the table and shelling it in front of him. “Here you go. Try not to eat too fast. I know you have to be hungry.”

Dave takes a bite, his hand shaking a little, his other hand in a cast from his wounds and he groans at the taste of the food. He tries to not eat too fast but he’s starving all of a sudden. “Do you- your partner won’t be upset with me coming home with you?”

You laugh quietly and shake your head. “No partner.” You tell him. “Just me. My dog, I’d had her for fourteen years, died last year. So it’s just me.” Your house was way too big for you, but you had bought it when the market was down and you loved living on the water. “I can put you downstairs for now until you are ready to climb stairs.”

Dave can’t argue. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. He doesn't have an ID, money, a home. He’s completely lost and your kindness is the only thing that’s saving him. “I can’t thank you enough. When I figure out who I am, I’ll pay you back.” He promises, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me.”

You shake your head. “When you have the chance to help someone else, do it. That’s all the payment I need.” You promise quietly. “There are too many unfortunates in this world.”

Dave nods, knowing he will find a way to repay you when he can. He will make sure he does when he remembers who he is. For now, he has to focus on recovering and healing from a traumatic experience.

“So, I’ve got you a set of basic scrubs to wear when you’re released.” You murmur quietly, watching him eat. “Your things were ruined, we had to cut them off you, but I saved them.” You hope that his clothes might help him remember something. “After I get you home, I’ll pick you up some more things, comfortable and easy to put on.”

Dave nods, “I guess I need to remember who I am because I don’t have anything. No money. No job. No home. Shit. I’m so sorry I literally landed on your doorstep.” You shake your head and go to interrupt him but he continues, “I can’t ever repay you for your kindness.”

You can tell that will be a continuing theme for him, so you don’t protest. Instead, you smirk as he polishes off the cheeseburger. “Did you like that?” You ask. “Cheeseburger kind of man?”

“Hell yes.” He chuckles, “that I do remember. Kind of? Would be fucking hell if I was a vegan and didn’t know it.” He snorts, “guess I’ll find out when I remember.” He adds, then frowns, knowing it should be ‘if’ he remembers.

“At least you remember what being a vegan means.” You point out in amusement. He’s handsome, even with the scars and the bandage over his eye. His jaw is covered with stubble and you bite your lip. “Before you leave, they are going to want you to get up and shower. Do you want me to help you shave? You were clean shaven when I found you.”

Dave nods, “yes please. I would love that because this is too itchy.” You’re like a guardian angel and he doesn’t know how to say thank you for all of your help. The nurses come by later on and help him shower and he is a little embarrassed by his nudity when they help him undress. When he is dressed in scrubs, you sit him down by the sink and grab the razor, starting to shave his face. Dave can’t help but watch you as you try to concentrate on shaving him without making his skin. You are an angel in every sense of the word, ethereal in appearance, and he knows he’s staring, but he can’t help himself.

You glance at his eye, noticing that he’s watching you as you look back down at his foamy jaw. “What?” You chuckle. “I’m not going to slit your throat.” You wince the second it comes out of your mouth, because you know the injuries he’s received. Someone tried to kill him. “I mean, I’m careful.”

He continues watching you, “I can tell you’re a woman who likes attention to detail.” He says and tilts his head for you. “So are you from here? Or did you move here?” He asks, wanting to know more about you.

“Moved here about eight years ago.” You hum as you furrow your brow as you scrape the razor along his jaw. “Tiny little midwestern town, landlocked. So living right by the ocean was a dream for me.”

Dave hums, anxious to know more about you. He doesn’t know why he feels so drawn to you other than the fact that you are the woman that saved his life. “Did you move here with a partner? Or have you been alone this entire time?“ He can’t believe that someone like you would’ve been on their own for an extended period of time when you are so beautiful.

“Terminally single.” You joke. “When I first started my career, I was working all the time. Boyfriends didn’t really like that, so I just decided that I would be happy without someone.” You shrug like it doesn’t matter, but you have been feeling alone. “But I got to travel as a nurse for a while and earn great money. Buy my house, so if a man comes along….” You glance at him again and smirk. “He’s gotta be okay with me being independent.”

“Good for you.” Dave smiles as you wash off the razor before you continue. He doesn’t ask anymore questions, trying to search his own brain for answers. He wonders where he’s from. Does he have a family? He doesn’t know anything and it’s driving him crazy. He lets you shave his face and watches you with fascination .

The silence settles between you and instead of asking him questions, you start to hum a song. It’s nothing meaningful, just one of the new ones you had heard on the radio and got stuck in your head. Maybe you should play some music for him to see if it helps him figure out who he is.

Dave listens to you hum, not recognizing the song but he likes to listen to you. When you’re done, you clean off his face and he feels so much better. “I can’t explain it but I feel more like myself.” He says, looking in the mirror and trying to ignore the bandage over his eye.

“You look very handsome.” You praise softly, resisting the urge to caress his cheek. “The eyepatch we get you will make you look dashing and a bit dangerous. Like a spy.”

Dave winces, his head aching at your words and he hisses, clutching his head. “Are you okay?” You ask and he nods, taking a deep breath. “Yes. Yes. I - shit. Sorry.” He apologizes, “had a twinge of pain. A spy, huh? Maybe look sexy.” He flirts slightly, a smirk on his face when the pain fades.

You smile and nod. “I can see it.” You admit, even as you step back from him. “The doctor is going to come and see you one more time, then sign your discharge papers.” You explain. Being the nurse in charge of him had helped get him prioritized. “And I’m off for the rest of the week to help you get settled.”

Dave nods, “I really can’t thank you enough.” He says and reaches down to squeeze your hand. “Really, I owe you my life. Literally.” He murmurs and the doctor knocks on the door, “hey our John Doe. How you holding up?” He asks and Dave nods, “good. Thanks to an amazing nurse.”

Aaron is a good doctor and he smiles. “Well you have the best.” He compliments. “She has been dedicated to your recovery.” He glances over the chart and hums. “Despite your memory loss, everything else is looking good.” He had already gone through a memory test and he remembers the year and current events, just nothing about his life.

Dave nods, “that’s good. What are the chances of my memories coming back?” He asks and the doctor sighs, “it’s hard to say. These cases are difficult to assess. Your memories could come back over the next few days. Or it could take a while and something triggers it. Or they could never come back. Only time will tell.” Dave nods, a frown on his face but he’s accepting it. “Thanks Doctor.” He says and shakes the hand of the man who saved his life. “Of course. I’ll go write up your discharge papers now so you can get out of here. A change of scenery might help.” Aaron leaves the room and Dave sighs, “hopefully they come back in a few days so I can get out of your hair.”

Shaking your head, you move to start packing up the gym bag you had brought from your work locker. “Don’t worry about that.” You encourage him. “Best thing you can do is heal. And you don’t even need to come back to the hospital to have your bandages changed.”

Dave watches you pack up your things, his eye dropping down to your ass when you bend over and he swallows, knowing he can’t ogle you when you are his savior. “That’s good.” He nods, “I don’t like hospitals. At least I don’t think I do.”

“I honestly don’t know anyone who likes hospitals.” You admit with a small chuckle. “They are a necessary evil. But I will try to make sure you don’t have to go back.” You promise and gather the bag with his own things for him to go through when you get him settled. “Ready?”

He nods, knowing he doesn’t have anything but the scrubs on his body and his useless memory. “Yes ma’am.” He says and follows you out of the hospital room he woke up in. He should be nervous but his stomach isn’t twisting like he thought it would. He signs his papers and follows you down the hall and out of the ward. He hopes he gets his memories back. He wants to know who he is, but for now, he will follow you home.

Guiding ‘John’ to your car, you load him up and set out for your house. Talking as you drive, you show him the general area and point to a tower across the bay. “That had to be really dangerous during the storm.” You comment quietly. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be on top of that.”

Dave frowns, his head aching all of a sudden and he hisses. “You okay?” You ask and pull over on the side of the road. “Yeah. I’m good. I- shit. Just a headache. Must be from the head injury.” He reaches up to rub his head and you frown, waiting a few seconds for him to breathe properly.

You ask if he needs something, a drink or aspirin, but he insists he’s alright after another minute. You consider taking him back to the hospital but decide to continue on home. Pulling up into the driveway after a few more minutes, you park. “Home sweet home.”

Dave admires your home, “it’s gorgeous. No wonder you fell in love with it.” He says with a smile and you grin, “I know. I had to have it.” Dave struggles to open the door with his arm still in bandages and you rush around to help him. “I feel so useless.” He sighs, “I can’t wait to be functional again.”

“We will get you all healed up and better than ever in no time.” The loss of his eye will be a large adjustment but perhaps not having any memory will help him. He won’t be used to what he used to be able to do. “There’s a downstairs in-law suite with its own bathroom.” You explain. “It was my little library, but I’ll move the bed in there and make it nice and cozy for you.”

Dave doesn't know how he is ever going to repay your kindness nor does he understand how someone so beautiful can also be so sweet. It makes his spine tingle with suspicion even though he completely trusts you. "Thank you." He murmurs and you snort, "stop saying 'thank you', John." You scoff and playfully slap his upper arm. His hand immediately comes up to grab your wrist, a reflex he didn't even know he had. "I am - Jesus." He loosens his grip and lets go of you, confused by his reaction.

“Wow.” You aren’t scared, more like impressed at the speed that he caught your hand. You arch your brow playfully and hum. “Maybe you are a secret agent.” You tease quietly, wondering where he had come from. That's your biggest question. How he had come to be on your beach. Did he fall off a ship?

Dave snorts, “yeah. And an assassin.” He chuckles before he winces again. “Maybe we should take you back to the hospital.” Dave shakes his head, “no. No. I’ll be fine.” He promises, “maybe I just need to lay down for a bit.”

You guide him into the house and immediately show him to the couch. “Lay down here for now and I’ll get your bedroom set up properly.” You hadn’t wanted to leave him to set it up while he was unconscious. “Do you want a blanket? Let me get you a blanket, and some water.”

Dave feels like a burden already, something in him telling him he shouldn’t let you run around after him but he feels exhausted. He sits down on your sofa and rubs his knee with his hand as he watches you grab him some water and a blanket. “Thank you.” He murmurs, shifting to lean back on your sofa, relaxing into the cushions.

“You’re welcomed.” You spread the blanket over his body and set the water down on the coffee table. “Get some rest and let your body heal.” You advise softly. “You push yourself and it will take longer to recover.”

Sighing in reluctant agreement, Dave closes his lone eye and lets himself relax. Inside, he feels useless, like he should be better already. Like there's something telling him it's life or death if he doesn't recover. He falls asleep not long after you settle him and he doesn't realize how long he's been asleep until he opens his eye and it's dark outside. "How long have I been asleep?" He rasps, voice thick with slumber.

“A few hours.” You had tried to be quiet, but he had been dead to the world, sleeping through you disassembling the bed upstairs and bringing it down to rearrange the inlaw suite. “Are you hungry?”

He wasn't until you mentioned it but now, his stomach is rumbling. He nods and you smile, "good. Dinner is in the oven. Your bed is ready and I'll show you the bathroom. I'll change your bandages when you shower next." You say and Dave can't say 'thank you' again, you'll kill him, so he nods and offers you a soft smile.

You show him the house. Letting him know subtly that he can go wherever he wants. Finally bringing him to the bedroom you had set up for him to sleep in. “This is your area.” You tell him. “There’s a shower, but if you need help, you let me know. I am a nurse.”

He can’t tell you that you being a nurse means nothing when he feels his cock twitch when you bend over to grab a spare toothbrush for him from under the sink. It means nothing when he wants to push you into the counter and bury his face in your neck. He doesn’t know where the attraction is coming from, especially since he just got out of hospital but fuck, he wants you. Shoving that down, he follows out into the living room and he looks out of the window to the beach, the waves crashing on the sand. “It’s more peaceful than when I got washed up

“I’m surprised you remember that.” It’s a good sign, considering how injured he had been. “The storm was brutal, I watched it from between the shutter slats. I just hope you weren’t in it for long.”

“I remember some of it. Between unconscious and conscious. The crash of the waves. The harsh wind. I remember a moment that I thought I was in hell. I hoped I wasn’t. I don’t…I hope I don’t deserve hell. But that’s what I felt for a brief second. That I deserved it.” He frowns, letting out a thought that’s haunted him.

You frown, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Well, this isn’t hell and you don’t deserve that. No matter who you were before that beach.”

“This isn’t hell.” He agrees, knowing you’re his angel. The woman who saved him from death. “Thank you.” He reaches for your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it before he realizes what he’s done. “I, uh, sorry.” He murmurs, letting go of your hand.

“That’s okay.” He looks embarrassed and that’s the last thing you want. “Don’t be afraid to express yourself. We are in close quarters and I’m not offended at all that my ‘John’ has the manners of a gentleman.” You giggle slightly and bat your lashes at him.

Dave likes hearing your giggle, a smile on his face and he chuckles, “John. Definitely don’t think that’s my real name. It’s - it doesn’t feel like it’s my name, you know?” He tilts his head as he looks up at you.

“Yeah, you don’t look like a John, if that makes sense. But, do you want to pick out a name?” Maybe picking his own name will jog his memory. It couldn’t hurt to try. “Austin, Aaron, Anthony?”

Dave wrinkles his nose but his eyebrows raise at Anthony. “Anthony feels familiar.” He confesses, “but doesn’t feel…right. If that makes sense.” He tilts his head at you, “keep guessing.” He demands softly, “I’ll see if anything feels better.”

“Brad, Bryan, Boyd.” He shakes his head and you move on to the ‘C’ names. “Chris. Chandler- I threw that in because of Friends.” You joke. “Chad- no, no, you’re too handsome to be a Chad.” He wrinkles his nose and you grin at how offended he looks. Maybe because of the stereotype around the name or he just finds it offensive. “David? Daniel, and…..”

Dave frowns, thinking about the names, his stomach twisting and he looks up at you. “David feels…right.” He murmurs, his head aching a little and he wonders if that’s his name or if it’s totally wrong. “Shit.” He hisses, reaching up to rub his head.

“Is your head hurting again?” You frown and walk over to him, looking into his eyes. “Maybe- maybe it’s possible that your head hurts when you remember something.” You pose. “I need to do some reading on it.”

He closes his eye for a moment, trying to gather himself. “Yeah. Maybe. It - I feel a twinge in my belly when it happens. Maybe I am remembering something.” He frowns, opening his eye to look up at you. “Or maybe I need a painkiller.” He jokes, reaching for your hand to squeeze it.

“A painkiller can be provided.” You wink at him. “We won’t push you too hard, just whatever comes will come.” You squeeze his hand back and the timer in the kitchen goes off. “There’s dinner.”

Dave watches you make your way into the kitchen and he groans as he stands up. His arm still bandaged, he makes his way into the kitchen just as you are plating up dinner. “Best to have food with the pill. These are pretty strong.” You say and he nods, taking a seat. You hand him the pill and set a glass of water down, he swallows it dry without a thought. “Right then.” You snort and turn back to the counter to grab the plates. “This looks delicious.” He declares, “are you sure you’re not secretly married?” He teases, picking up his fork.

You laugh, shrugging. “Maybe I am. But then again, where are all the dirty socks?” You watch as he takes a bite and groans. It has to be better than hospital food and you try not to clench at the low growl of pleasure. He’s hurt, it’s so wrong to find him attractive and want him right now. “My dad used to leave his socks everywhere.” You explain. “Drove my mom crazy.”

With a snort, Dave sets his fork down, “I can’t remember shit but even I know that the way to piss a woman off is to leave socks and underwear on the floor.” He chuckles and takes a sip of water. “You’re a great cook.” He compliments you, picking up his fork after setting his glass down. “It’s a crime you aren’t married.” He murmurs, looking at you from across the table. He means it. Even if he barely knows you.

“Are you auditioning?” You flirt playfully, smirking at him. “I might snore like a banshee or have a really weird third boob that I hide.” You joke, taking a bite of his own meal. “I find it harder to believe that you aren’t married. Maybe you are. Maybe you’re divorced or hell, you might be celibate.”

Dave chuckles, “I don’t think a monk would lose an eye and nearly get murdered.” He raises his eyebrow before he sighs, knowing that the answers to that mystery aren’t available to him right now. He wants to know what happened. “I wasn’t wearing a ring when you found me, was I?” He asks, wondering if you noticed.

“No.” You shake your head, remembering to check him for a medical bracelet and you had looked at his hand. “No rings, necklaces or bracelets.” You shrug. “So probably not married.”

Dave nods, a little relieved by that revelation. He’d feel guilty for finding you so attractive if he was married. “Good. That’s…good to know.” He says, his eye focusing on you until you fluster and he continues eating.

The two of you continue to talk, he asks you a lot of questions about your life since he doesn’t remember his own and you fill him in. Enjoying the way he laughs and relaxes as he cleans his plate. “Do you want more?”

He bites his lip, knowing he shouldn’t eat too much but he is still hungry. He offers you a slightly shy nod and you chuckle, grabbing his plate to give him a second serving of food. “You really are a good cook.” He tells you as you set his plate down.

“Well then at least you don’t have to worry about starving.” You reach out and touch the back of his neck, the bandages covering the staples and you hum. “Tomorrow, we’ll change these again. But you are healing nicely.”

“I- hopefully I can remember who I am and I’ll be out of your hair. I’m sure you’ll be sick of me before too long.” He says, trying to ignore the way he shivers slightly at your touch.

“You seem anxious to get rid of me.” You wonder if you had been too pushy, if he would rather be somewhere else. “Hopefully I don’t drive you crazy.”

Dave snorts, knowing you are going to drive him crazy but not in the way you think. “No. No. I just- you’ve been so kind. I don’t want to be a burden. Well, a bigger burden.” He gestures to his eye, “you’re my saving grace.” He murmurs.

“Don’t put me up on a pedestal.” You shake your head. “I just want you to be safe and secure while you recover who you are or decide what you would do.” You bite your lip. “So often I can’t help someone beyond the hospital but this time, I can.”

Dave smiles softly, “it’s not a pedestal. It’s the truth but I understand. No more compliments.” He teases with a smirk, “no more thanks.” He winks and looks back at his plate, digging back in. He is torn on finding out who he is and never finding out so he can stay with you. 

****

It’s been a week since Dave has been in your home. He spends most of his days trying to see if he can recover his memory. Watching movies, listening to music. Anything that will trigger a memory. “Not a heavy metal fan?” You ask after he turns the volume down on your speaker. He shakes his head, “nope. Apparently not.” He chuckles. “Nothing yet. Maybe my memory is just…gone.”

“It’s possible.” You won’t sugar coat it, it is a possibility. “Then you will just need to figure out who you want to be.” Dave frowns slightly and scratches his head. He hasn’t let you help him too much, but you know he’s been struggling to help himself. He is the stubborn kind, for sure.

He sighs, “I know. I know. It’s - shit - I wanna know who I am because - because I want to know where I came from. What happened to me. So many fucking answers and I don’t know them because my goddamn brain won’t work.” He huffs, hitting his forehead. You open your mouth to protest his self pity when there’s a loud bang outside. Dave doesn’t hesitate, he shoves you down to the rug, covering your body with his. His heart beat in his ears is steady but loud as he raises his head to assess the situation.

You gasp when John - David, pushes you down to the floor and protects you. Never actually witnessing something like that before. Your heart races as he curls around you, waiting a moment before he is looking up. Searching the area for any danger before he even shifts slightly off of you. “I- I think it was a shutter.” You murmur quietly. “I didn’t secure all of them.”

Dave scrambles off of you, “shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t - I don’t know why I did that.” He confesses, his arm aching from the quick moments as he shifts away from you. “I don’t - the bang made me react.”

“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head and lean over to check him. “Did you open any stitches? Anything hurting?” You ask, concerned more about his well being than him throwing you to the ground.

He shakes his head, "I don't feel anything hurting." He murmurs, still confused about his reaction. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks, wanting to be sure he didn't harm you at all.

“No.” You promise immediately. “I have to admit that it was pretty sexy, protective.” You bite your lip and fluster slightly. “You didn’t hurt me at all. I promise.”

He nods, glad that he didn't hurt you and his cock twitches at you saying it was sexy. "You liked it?" He asks, a smirk on his face as he watches you shift onto your knees. He shouldn't be this cocky when he has one eye, a bandaged up arm, and no memory of who he is, but something inside of him seems to jump out, a confident man who knows what he wants.

“I didn’t mind it.” You admit, watching as he adapts the posture of a man who is very self confident and it’s making him even more attractive. “I know you are recovering, but you are capable and sexy.”

Dave likes hearing that from you and he shouldn't, especially when he hasn't got a clue who he is or where he comes from, but fuck, he likes the way you are looking at him. He shifts onto his knees in front of you. His hand comes up to cup your cheek and his eye searches your face until he leans in to softly kiss you.

You shouldn’t kiss him, not when you know that he’s missing key parts of himself, his history. You can’t help yourself though. It’s like you are unable to pull back, leaning into the kiss and you feel like this is meant to be. Like he was supposed to be found on your beach by you. It’s fate. You sigh softly when his lips touch yours and you lay your hand on his shoulder.

Dave presses his lips a little harder against yours, fueled by the simmering lust he's felt for you and the desire to feel something beyond the pity and frustration that his missing mind has been causing. His hand cups the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he slides his tongue against your lower lip, requesting access.

Your sigh turns into a moan, opening up and feeling the slide of his tongue against yours. Stomach clenching and cunt fluttering in pleasure when he dives into you, taking what you offer. He might not know who he is, but he knows how to kiss.

His other hand finds your ass, squeezing as he drags you closer to him. His cock is half hard in the pants you bought for him and he is taken over by this need for you. It's been lingering - some unspoken thing between you - and he desperately wants you. To show you how much he appreciates you, wants you.

You shouldn’t let him. You feel almost as if you are taking advantage but you know he wants this too. “You don’t have to.” You murmur softly, pulling back for just a moment so he knows that it’s not that he has to please you to stay.

He snorts, nudging his nose against yours, “I know I don’t have to. I want to. If you want to.” He adds, pulling back so he can look at you. “If you want to.” He repeats, his hand shifting away from your ass to give you a moment to think about it. You hesitate, exhaling shakily, and he doesn’t push, shifting away from you. “I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have done that. Made you uncomfortable.”

“No, I want to.” You confess, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “I’ve been attracted to you since the beginning. I just don’t want to hurt you. You’re still healing.”

Dave shakes his head, shifting back closer to you. “I want you. Don’t care about my arm. I’m healing because of you. I want you.” He murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to yours. His hand finding your waist again.

You slide your hand up his shoulder into the longer locks of his hair now that it is growing out. Over the bandage and you are careful not to tug too hard as you slide your tongue into his mouth this time.

Dave groans into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours, and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass, dragging you closer. “Let me - sofa.” He grunts, pulling away from your mouth reluctantly and he shifts to stand up. He sits down on the sofa and pats his lap, wanting you to sit down on top of him.

You don’t stand, you crawl over to where he is, watching that one eye darken with lust. The twitching of the soft pants makes your eyes widen in mischief. “You don’t remember your last blowjob, do you?” You moan out, reaching the sofa and sliding your hands up his thighs.

He shakes his head, his eye widening as you look up at him and he swallows harshly. “You don’t - most women don’t like doing that and you - you’ve already done so much for me.” He groans out the last word as you slide your hand across his lap to squeeze him through his pants.

“You remember that women don’t like to suck a cock?” You hum, enjoying the thick feel of him. You had helped strip him down and have helped him around the house, but now you can enjoy this. “This woman wants to suck your cock. But I don’t want you to cum right away.”

Dave gulps, nodding as you hook your fingers in his sweats and he lifts his ass so you can pull them down enough so his cock is freed, pre cum already pooling on the tip. He can’t deny that he hasn’t imagined this. You on your knees for him. “I won’t.” He promises, his throat suddenly dry.

You decide that you will show him how good it can be. Kissing up his thigh and nibbling on the sensitive flesh. His stitches from the leg wounds have dissolved and you feel him jump when you kiss the scar of newly mended skin left behind. Biting his hip before you drag your tongue up the thick length of his shaft and over the sensitive head of his cock.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses as you take his cock into your mouth. His eye watches you as you wrap your lips around the head and start to take him deeper, a groan escaping his lips. “You look so pretty like this.” He murmurs, reaching down to caress your cheek.

You glance up at him and when back down to his cock. He’s pulsing in your mouth and you take him a bit deeper. Wanting to make this good for him as you remind him of what a blow job feels like.

He slides his hand lower to your jaw, feeling it move as you bob your head on his length. He groans when you swallow around him as you take him down your throat. “Jesus.” He hisses when you reach down to roll his balls in your fingers. “Baby. Baby. I don’t - I don’t think I’m gonna last long.” He warns you, tapping on your cheek.

His tap on your cheek is sharp, making you huff slightly instead of moan as you pull back. “Do you want to have me ride you right here?” You ask softly, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping him gently.

He nods, a little lost in the feel of you, overwhelmed by your kindness, your beauty. He reaches for you, gripping the hem of your shirt to lift it over your head.

You let him take charge. Starting to strip you, although you unhook your bra when your shirt is on the floor. Drawing it down to toss aside and reveal your tits to him.

“Fuck. You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your tit and he squeezes, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. “Do we need a condom?” He asks, wanting to be safe even if his memory is shot.

You know all the tests the hospital ran and they even screened him for STIs. “No.” You promise him breathlessly. “I’m on birth control.” You tilt your head to give him more access and push your chest into his hand.

His cock twitches and he slides his hand down to your leggings. “Take these off. I want to see all of you.” He demands, feeling needy for you after wanting you since he arrived in your home. “Please.” He adds, not afraid to beg a little.

You stand up and hook your fingers under your leggings to push them down. Smirking when you show David that you aren’t wearing any panties. “Never wear them.” You admit when he looks shocked.

“Dirty girl.” He smirks after he recovers, groaning at the sight of your curls at the apex of your thighs. He grips his cock, pumping himself a few times and he tilts his head, “come sit on my cock baby. Wanna watch you cum.” He demands, gaining his confidence back.

You bite your lip, stepping forward to straddle his hips. You caress his chest and reach down to take his cock in your own hand. “Fuck, baby.” You moan when he twitches in your hand. “You are so fucking thick, I can’t want to have you inside me.”

He gulps when you start to lower yourself onto his cock, engulfing him in a hot wetness that has his chest heaving. “Shit.” He hisses, his hand coming up to squeeze your breast as you sink down onto him. “So fucking beautiful.” He rasps, his eyes watching you take him.

Moaning, you feel beautiful. David has a way of making you feel like you are gorgeous. From the way he talks to you, to the way his gaze heats up when he is watching, you feel sexy. “Fuck, Dave.” You moan softly, shortening the name he had picked for himself.

Your moan of his new name has him twitching inside of you. It sounds so real, so good. It sounds perfect. His hand squeezes your tit, watching you acclimate to his girth until you’re comfortable enough to start moving on top of him. “That’s it baby, take what you want.” He orders, groaning when you lift up and sink back down again.

You don’t ride him fast, knowing that despite what he’s said, he’s still injured. You could make him reopen the stitches and you don’t want that. Slowly lifting off his cock and groaning when you let him fill you again. Sedately riding him as you press your lips to his.

He groans into your mouth, letting you ride him slowly and he caresses every inch of skin he can with one hand. His lips kissing along your neck and he hisses when you turn your head to kiss him again. His tongue slides against yours, his cock twitching inside of you when you clench around him.

Your moans are breathy and light as he twitches inside you. Breathed into his mouth while you kiss him back. Gorging yourself on the feeling of his tongue taking control and making you wetter and wetter every time he flicks his tongue against yours.

He’s in no rush for this to be over and he’s glad that he seems to have stamina. He’s not rushing to cum inside of you. His hand trails down your stomach, finding your clit, and he groans when he feels how wet you are. Slicking up his fingers, he rubs your clit slowly, not wanting you to cum just yet but wanting to hear you moan.

Whoever he was in a past life, David can make a woman feel amazing. Your back arches slightly when he starts to rub your clit. Pushing your tits up and you moan his name again. He's amazing and you fall even more for your mysterious man.

When you arch your back, Dave ducks his head down to take your nipple into his mouth. He sucks and bites while his hand continues to rub your clit. His eyes closed as he breathes you in, enjoying how you sound, how you smell.

It's easy to slip into the fantasy that Dave is yours. That he always has been and this is just a lazy day that you are making the most of. You whine when his teeth scrape over the sensitive bud of your breast and you breathe out an order. "More." You beg softly, gently pulling his hair again, taking care of the bandage that should be able to be removed in another week or so.

He doesn’t deny you, sucking harder on your nipple and he groans when you tug harder on his hair that isn’t covered by the bandage. He can feel your walls fluttering around his cock and he hisses when you grip him inside of you. “You’re so tight.” He murmurs into your skin as he switches to your other breast.

"You're thick." You moan softly, closing your eyes as he continues to ravish your breasts and you grind down on his cock. It's so perfectly erotic, building you up to a wonderful tension in your belly. "Fuck, Dave, I'm going to cum." You warn him, knowing that you are close to cumming.

He groans, his stomach clenching at the familiarity of the name falling from your lips and it feels so right. His name, you sitting on his cock, being here. It feels like it’s meant to be. “Do it.” He pleads, rubbing your clit a little faster as you rock on top of him. “Cum for me.” He begs against your breast.

​​He makes it so easy for you to cum, rubbing your clit like he knows your body inside and out. Your stomach clenches and you curl your toes when your body locks up in pleasure. Crying out again as your cunt soaks his cock with your orgasm.

Dave hisses against your skin as you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it baby. Shit. I- you feel so good.” He grunts, his fingers working your clit for a little bit longer until he pulls his hand away and grabs your hip, rocking you on his cock. “Fuck. So pretty. So good to me. Taking me so well.” He grunts, bracing his feet on the floor so he can thrust up into you.

When he takes over, all you can do is hold on. You feel how assertive he used the strength he has that has been regaining. Moaning as he works you through your orgasm to the point of overstimulation from the way his cock is hitting inside you. Making you feel like you’re going to cum again.

Dave grunts, jaw clenched as he leans back against the sofa, trying to work you through your orgasm while seeking his own. He thrusts up into you a half dozen more times before it’s too much. His cock twitches as he paints your walls with his hot seed, groaning when he feels you clamp down on his cock again, your hands gripping the sofa behind his head. “Oh my God.” You squeal as you grip him and he pants, head tilting back and eye closing at how good he feels.

You collapse against his chest and kiss along his shoulder as you catch your breath. Giggling quietly from the sheer euphoria of the orgasms and enjoying the slightly salty taste of his damp skin. “Well, we got our workout today.” You tease.

Dave chuckles, cupping your cheek to bring your face to his. His lips pressing against yours while he stares to soften inside of you. “And worked up an appetite. Are you hungry, sweetheart?” He asks, knowing you did most of the work to get both of you off. “I can make you something.” He nudges his nose against yours while his hand slides down to caress your back.

Since he has been here, Dave has started helping you, however he can. He’s a surprisingly good cook and has made several meals for you. “If you’re hungry.” You press your lips to his again. “I can eat.”

He nods, his fingers caressing your spine. “I make a mean sandwich.” He teases, kissing along your jaw. “Go clean up. I’ll get the sandwiches made.” He winks and you shift off of his cock. He will clean himself up in your downstairs bathroom. He shifts to stand up from the sofa, wincing slightly at the ache in his shoulder. He’s pushed himself but he doesn’t care. It was worth it.

**** 

The next two weeks is just a constant cycle of eating and fucking. It’s like the two of you cannot get enough of each other. There are tender moments between the more amorous ones, like the time you had your phone playing music and Dave wanted to dance with you, right there in the kitchen. His staples are removed, his stitches dissolved and he has a temporary prosthetic eye in place underneath the eye patch. You are completely in love with him and it’s obvious he feels the same way, although no words are spoken. “Hey babe, I’m home!” You call out, dropping your bags at the door and looking around for Dave.

Dave puts the finishing touches on the piece he’s been working on for a while. His therapist advised that he paint or draw, see if he can recall his memories while also doing some physio with his hand and arm. He has paint on his shirt but he’s proud of his work. He looks up from the kitchen table and stands, making his way out to help you with your bags with his good arm. “Hey sweetheart. Let me help.” He insists and carries the bags he can manage into the kitchen for you.

“Hey.” You drop a kiss on his cheek and smile at the way he just insists on helping. “How was your day?” You had stopped by and picked up the grocery order on the way home and now it’s just you and him for the weekend. “Get some painting done?”

Dave nods, “yes. I- I want you to see it.” He says, “I painted it…for you.” He confesses, knowing he isn’t the most skilled artist but something seemed to have ignited within him to paint something good enough to give you. He guides you over to the table where the art is still drying and turns to you, “it’s for you. How I- how I feel about you.”

It's beautiful. Not something you would see hung on a national museum's wall, but one that you know is completely from the heart. It's a painting of you. You bite your lip, eyes misting up as you look at him. "I- this is gorgeous." You murmur breathlessly, reaching out and cupping his cheek. "I don't know what is going to happen, but I feel something- a lot - for you." You whisper. "Dave Doe, I fell in love with you." You smile at the use of the generic last name, but your heart knows him.

Dave chuckles and leans in, gripping your waist to pull you closer. “I love you.” He murmurs, feeling like the words are a little hard to get out even though it’s what he feels. Something within him wants him to hold back his emotions, shut them down, but he shakes that off. “I don’t care what happens. If I don’t get my memories back…I have you.” He reassures you, “and you have me.”

“I want you to stay.” You admit softly. “Memories, no memories, I love you.” You promise, aware that you have to seem crazy to some, but you know this man is the man you are supposed to love. Leaning in, you kiss him softly. “I want to make love with you.” Since that first time, you had slept in the downstairs bed with him until he was climbing the stairs to your bedroom. He had never gone back to the in-law suite.

Dave nods, nudging his nose against yours. His hand finds yours as he ignores the groceries and guides you upstairs, his gait is better, more confident. He feels powerful despite his recent limitations. Opening the door to your bedroom, he turns and grabs your waist, pressing his lips to yours without another second to waste.

You are addicted to Dave. Reaching for the hem of his pullover shirt, you lift it over his head and quickly kiss him again. “I love you.” You promise softly, caressing the scars, older ones sprinkled in with the new ones that tell you he had had a dangerous life.

He grabs the hem of your dress, lifting it over your head to expose your underwear and he loves how beautiful you are, how relaxed you are in his presence. Something he knows deep down wasn’t normal with his previous life. He walks you backwards towards your bed, his hands sliding up your back to unclasp your bra and he drags it down your arms to expose your tits. “I want to taste you, baby.” He confesses, throwing your bra across the room as he gently pushes on your chest to get you to lay down.

You moan softly, nodding as you spread your thighs apart. Settling against the pillows and watching as he starts to undress. “You are so sexy, Dave.” You compliment him a lot, but you never lie to him. You find him wildly attractive.

He flusters slightly at your compliment, still unsure of himself after losing his eye and the scars that cover his skin. He shrugs off his shirt and pushes down his jeans along with his boxers to expose his body to you. He groans when you squeeze your breast, your eyes watching him as he kneels on the bed. His hands push under your ass, tilting your hips as he leans in to slide his tongue along your folds.

Dave doesn’t use his mouth often, preferring his hands on you, but when it does - it’s magical. Your gasp of his name echoes around the room and your hips would buck up if he didn’t have a grip on them. Your hands slide down to your tits, palming them. “Fuck baby, fuck, I love you. Love that tongue, love your cock, love everything about you.”

His tongue flicks over your clit and he groans when your hand lets go of your breast and your fingers slide into his hair. He loves when you pull on his hair. He grinds into the sheets as he flicks his tongue over your clit. His fingers squeezing your ass as he tilts your hips higher. His tongue slides down to push into your weeping cunt, his nose pressing against your clit.

Dave turns ravenous, licking into you like a snack cup, making you whimper while he works you over. Your chest heaves and body shakes as his tongue curls deep inside you and the pressure against your clit is increasing. Looking down, you watch him, clenching around his tongue when his eye meets your gaze.

Dave groans, his tongue pushing deep inside of you. "That's it, baby." He murmurs when he pulls away for a second, his hand sliding from under you to pull your folds apart with his fingers, his lips wrapping around your clit and his fingers slide down to push two thick digits inside of you.

“Ohhhh fuck, Dave.” You moan, closing your eyes in pleasure. Your hips roll down and you love how thick his fingers are. They are almost as thick as his cock, but not quite enough. Your walls clench down around his digits and he groans against your clit.

He loves the way you moan his name. It might not be his actual name but it feels so right. He groans and curls his fingers deeper, wanting to feel you clamp down on his fingers. He wants to feel you cum.

He’s not a selfish man, Dave will spend hours between your thighs if it’s what you need to cum. You love that about him. “Oh fuck, baby.” You whimper. “You are so fucking good, I love that tongue.”

Your heels dig into his shoulders but he loves it. He hisses into your cunt and he groans when you tug on his hair again. He sucks on your clit a little harder, fingers pumping in and out of your weeping pussy. He wants to beg you to cum for him but he doesn't want to pull away from your clit.

“You’re so good.” You whine, rocking your hips up. “So good, so good!” You cry out. “Oh god, Dave!” You scream out, body locking up and jerking in pleasure as your orgasm slams through you. “Oh shit! Oh shit!”

He fucking loves when you cum. His eyes closing as you clamp down on his digits. He hums around your clit, working you through it as you soak his fingers. His other hand grips your hips to keep you still so he can make sure you're boneless on the bed before he fucks you.

You love how fucking thorough he is. Love how he just gives you pleasure until you are spent, demands it of you. Making you whimper and moan some more before he decides you’ve had night and his tongue slows down and his fingers start to slowly pull out.

Dave withdraws his fingers, kissing your mound before he turns his head to kiss along your thigh. "So good, baby." He murmurs, shifting to kneel between your legs, his damp fingers wrapping around his cock to pump himself as he watches you recover from your orgasm.

“I need you inside me, baby.” You beg, sliding a foot along his thigh, ready to prop it up onto his hip so he can sink deep inside your cunt. “Fuck, you are so goddamn handsome and mine.” You purr possessively.

He nods, shifting closer, and he looks down at you, a soft smile on his face as you call him yours. "Yours. Like you're mine." He murmurs, notching his cock at your entrance, and he pushes inside of you with a groan. "All mine." He grunts, shifting to hover over you on his elbows, and he leans in to press his lips to yours.

You don’t rush him, feeling the emotional weight of the moment as you wrap your arms around him. Giving into the kiss and closing your eyes while your feet hook behind his back. “All yours, baby.” You promise when he is pulling back to smile at you. “Forever.”

He groans at the news, loving the way you take him, accept him. All of him. Even the missing pieces. “Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw when he starts to move inside of you. Slow. He’s in no rush. He wants to savor this moment with you; the emotional climax before you reach the physical one.

“I love you too.” You whisper, giving him a sincere promise. You don’t care what his background is or what he’s done in his forgotten past. You love him. Even the strangely dark parts of him that he can’t explain.

He rocks into you, his hand finding yours to grip it against the pillow your head is resting on. His fingers tangle with yours while he kisses along your neck. No more words are exchanged as he rocks into you, breathing mingling as his lips hover over yours.

You pant quietly into his mouth, absorbing every thrust of his hips and taking him with an eagerness that cannot even be explained. It’s as if this is your wedding night and you are consummating your vows.

Dave groans, his tongue tangling with yours when he leans in to kiss you. He shifts his weight over to his other side so his free hand can caress you, squeezing your breast.

You moan his name into his mouth, arching up into Dave's touch. Rolling your hips with his steady pace and loving how this has turned into love making. Expressing yourselves with your bodies.

Your legs lift higher on his hips and he groans, pressing his lips against yours over and over. His fingers pinching your nipple but not too rough, just enough to stimulate you. He kisses along your jaw and down your neck, sucking on the skin above your pounding pulse.

"Dave, I love you." You moan, stroking his back and encouraging him with your moans. "I love you so much. So- fuck, so happy you washed up on my beach. Came into my life."

He smiles against your skin at your words, "me too. Fucking - fucking lucky to wash up on your shore. You saved me. My angel. My gorgeous angel." He murmurs, shifting his hand up to your cheek, caressing it before he leans in to kiss you again. "Want you to cum for me, baby." He murmurs, his hand letting go of your cheek and he snakes it between you to rub your clit.

“Oh fuck.” Dave has learned your body, knowing exactly what you need to cum and he’s a master at making that happen. “I love you.” You moan, pressing your lips to his desperately as you fall over the edge, clenching down around his cock.

Dave hisses into your mouth when you clamp down on his cock. He loves it. He loves you. He groans and works you through it, thrusting a half dozen more times until the heaviness of the moment hits and he falls over the edge with a groan of your name. His hot seed paints your walls and he squeezes your hand, your name a gasp from his lips.

The aftermath is always so beautiful, Dave collapsing against your body and panting as he tries to recover. You stroke his back, boneless beneath him. “Fuck, you are so incredible.” You moan softly.

He kisses along your neck, "no. You are. A fucking angel. I love you." He rasps, closing his eyes as he breathes you in and begins to soften inside of you.

You lay there, basking in the warmth of his affection and sigh. Everything is perfect and you hope that it never changes. “I ordered dinner before I got home.” You tell him quietly. “It should be here soon.”

“I amend what I said. You’re a fucking goddess.” He murmurs, pulling out of you and he kisses down your body. Flicking his tongue over your nipples, he continues his journey down your body until he’s settled between your legs again. “Reckon I can make you cum again before the food arrives?” He asks, raising his eyebrows as he pushes your thighs further apart. You nod and moan when he leans in to slide his tongue through your creamy folds. Your moan makes him smile and he knows this is where he belongs. 

**** 

Dave kisses your neck as you stand at the stove, making pancakes for breakfast, and the coffee is brewing. “Have I told you how fucking sexy you are?” He asks, sliding his hands along your hips. “Dave.” You giggle, trying to focus on flipping the pancakes when the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it.” Dave kisses your neck and smacks your ass before he makes his way through the house to the front door. He opens it with a smile still lingering on his face. “Dave?” A woman gasps and he frowns, “uh, kinda. Do I know you?” He asks and she shakes her head, tears in her eyes. “I’m your wife.”

Dave frowns, pain slicing through his head as his knees buckle from the flood of memories slam through him. His entire life flashing back into place and he groans, feeling her rush forward to touch his shoulder and he remembers her name. “C-Carol.” 

You gasp, dropping the spatula from the doorway to the kitchen when you hear the strange woman announce that she is his wife. Not wanting to believe that it could be true.

Dave feels sick. The memories of the things he’s done. The people he’s killed. The coldness in his veins. Carol knows about it all and he knows you’d hate him if you knew his background. He also remembers Molly and Alice. His girls. He can’t abandon them. His heart is torn between wanting you and pushing you away. You’d be better off without him. You deserve better. He straightens his back just as you walk in and Carol looks between you, immediately realizing what’s happened from the look on your face. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere. I couldn’t get hold of Resnik or the team to track you down. I’ve been trying to find you.” Carol chokes, “the girls…we thought you were dead.”

"He- he had amnesia." You choke out, looking back and forth between the pretty woman - his wife - and Dave. Your Dave was not free, he has a wife - maybe even kids. The idea makes you sick to your stomach and you wish you had been stronger to resist the attraction between you. "He- he washed up on the beach in front of the house. Badly injured." You explain, looking down at the spatula dumbly.

Dave wants to pull you into his arms, kiss you and tell you it’s gonna be okay but he’s a bad man. He’s a murderer and he’s married with kids. He can’t stay with you. He has to go home and back to his old life. He swallows harshly, “I need to go home.” He chokes out, hating how your face immediately scrunches up and your eyes start to water. “He needs to come home to his daughters.” Carol says, reaching out to rub his arm and Dave nearly recoils from her touch. He doesn’t want to go home with Carol. He wants to see his girls.

“I-I know.” You nod quickly. Of course he has daughters. He has a family, a life that doesn’t include you in it. “I- I’m sorry, please give me a minute.” You turn and race up the stairs. Needing to hide your tears and to pack the clothes you had bought for Dave, along with all of his things that have been mixed in with yours.

He watches you go and he swallows down the words he wants to say. That he wants to stay with you. That he loves you. He can’t though, he has to go home and figure out his life. “You have no idea how much effort I’ve put in to find you. I was expecting a body to bury. Not a fucking cheater.” Carol hisses and Dave turns to look at her, “I didn’t remember you. I lost my goddamn memories.” He growls, annoyed at his wife. One that he hasn’t loved for a long time before Robert tried to kill him.

Carol snorts, not believing the convenient lie that would absolve him from his part in the affair. 

“So what? You just happen to shack up with the woman who found you?” She gestures to his eye patch. “You can stop playing your fucking games David, you can fool her, I’m smarter than that.”

Dave scoffs, “it’s not a fucking game. She helped me when I was nearly dead. She saved me.” He hisses when he hears you coming down the stairs. “With her pussy?” Carol rolls her eyes at her husband. His face softens when he sees you and Carol notices that, huffing at the way he looks at you. He has never looked at her like that.

You had cried while shoving everything in a bag and grabbed his medical records. Drying your eyes, you know they are still red rimmed as you come down the stairs with the bag on your shoulder. “He- his medical records are here. His rehabilitation. His appointments for the glass eye.” You can’t look over at Dave, you know you will cry again, so you brace yourself and look into the unhappy face of Dave’s wife. “I didn’t- it- I’m sorry.” You whisper. “He really didn’t remember anything. And the police couldn’t find any record of him. He didn’t- it’s my fault. Blame me. Don’t blame him.” You hold out the records for her to take.

Dave shakes his head, “it’s not your fault. It’s mine. My past…it caught up to me.” He confesses and reaches for you to pull you into his arms. He breathes you in and pulls back a few seconds later to kiss your forehead. He wants to tell you he loves you but he knows that won’t help you at this moment. He steps back, turning his head so he doesn’t have to look at your face as he braces himself to leave your home. “Thank you. For everything.” He says when his eyes finally meet yours. You nod, your throat tight with emotion. Carol grabs the bag from you and touches her husband’s arm. “Let’s get you home.” She says, emphasizing the word. He nods, trying to commit your face to memory before Carol clears her throat and he steps back to exit your home, the place he came to call home.

The door clicks closed and the house is silent, mournfully so. Leaving you to absorb the fact that Dave - who really was Dave - is gone. And you didn’t even get his last name. Choking out a sob, you don’t care that the pancakes are burning or that the bacon is getting cold. You don’t care about anything, your heart is breaking, bleeding out of your chest. The man you love is gone.

**** 

“Daddy!” “You’re home!” The girls rush up to Dave and he kneels down, wrapping his arms around them and kissing their heads. “I missed you.” He murmurs into their hair, pulling back a second later. “Daddy! You have an eye patch.” Alice points out and Molly giggles, “you look like a pirate.” Dave chuckles, “yeah. Daddy had an accident and he’s sorry he wasn’t here but he is now. I love you. Both of you. So much.” He murmurs, hugging them close again and he hates how he’s had to leave you but his girls need him.

Carol stands back, watching the girls with their father and she’s still suspicious. From the looks of the folder, it’s true that he had amnesia, he didn’t remember her or the girls. But she still isn’t happy with the way Dave had looked at you. His heart was in his eyes and despite knowing all his secrets, accepting him for who he is, having his children - he never looked at her like that.

****

Dave tries to settle back in at home but it’s hard. He isn’t the same man. He doesn’t go back to work for the DIA. He can’t. Robert is still out there and he doesn’t know if he knows Dave is alive. It’s been a few months that Dave has been home and he can’t stop thinking about you. The television is playing some show Carol likes and he isn’t paying attention to it. Carol notices. She’s picked up how distant her husband is. He doesn’t touch her, he doesn’t kiss her. He is a different person. He isn’t the killer she knew when she married him. He’s softer…not as rough. Not the man she desired. 

“You thinking about her?” Carol asks without warning, making Dave turn to look at her. “Who?” He asks, trying to act indifferent. She says your name, “I know you love her. The way you looked at her…you never looked at me like that.” She murmurs and Dave opens his mouth to try and protest but she stops him. “I don’t want you here if you don’t want me.” She says and Dave shakes his head, “but we are married.” Carol scoffs, “Dave. Don’t be ridiculous. You might not have died that day but you changed. You’re not the man I married. Go back to her. I never expected to lose you to a nurse…another agent maybe, but not someone…nice. Go back to her and if you want to come home, I’ll let you come back. You need to decide what you want. I don’t want a half marriage.” She confesses and Dave is speechless. He never expected her to be so selfless. “I need to decide.” He agrees, knowing he will be selfish, leaving his wife and his girls but once he decides, he will figure everything out. He knows he needs to see you again.

You hum to yourself, to your stomach as you work on the cake you are baking. Your life has been changed by Dave. You had discovered that you were pregnant after he had left and there was never a doubt in your mind if you were keeping the baby. It was the last piece you had of him, even if you planned to never let him know that he had a son or daughter with you. You couldn’t do that, even if you wanted to, you don’t know his last name. Pouring the last of the batter into the pan, you turn to place it in the oven and set the timer.

Dave shifts from one foot to the other, his bag on his shoulder and he takes a deep breath before he rings the doorbell. You don’t answer right away, opening the door several moments later and his eye widens as your head peaks around the corner. “Hey sweetheart.” He murmurs, his heart pounding in his chest.

You freeze, eyes wide when you see Dave and you immediately look behind him. Hoping that his wife isn’t here too, “what are you doing here?” You demand. “You can’t- Dave, you can’t be here.”

“I left her. Carol…she told me to come see you because I wasn’t - she knew my heart wasn’t with her. She wanted me to come back and if I returned to her, then she’d accept me back. If not, she would accept that too. She doesn’t want a ghost as her husband. I came back because I- I love you. I can’t stop thinking about you, baby.” Dave chokes, his chest tightening as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Dave- you have a family.” You whisper, guilt flooding your entire body as you straighten up and step through the door, showing him the rounded belly that houses his child. “I’m- we’re fine.” You caress your stomach. “I love you and I know that you need to be with them. They had you before I did.”

Dave’s eye widens at the sight of your round belly. He gasps and his hand reaches out towards you until he lowers it. “Baby…you’re - Jesus. I left you - you’re - shit.” He chokes and shakes his head. “I have my daughters but Carol - I don’t love her. I love you. Please. Let me - I want you. Shit. Our child.” He can’t believe you’re pregnant.

“What’s your last name?” You ask softly, reaching out and taking his hand so he can feel the baby. “I didn’t think to ask that day and you never came back.” You start to tear up, having missed him every day since he walked out your door.

“York. David Anthony York. I was born April 2nd, 1975.” He tells you, wanting you to know everything about him. He has to tell you the dark parts, his past. You deserve to know. His hand caresses your bump and his eye widens when he feels the kick. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” He asks, not caring either way, he wants a healthy baby.

You smile softly. “It’s a boy.” You tell him, remembering the day you had seen the very obvious boy parts on the screen. “I know you have girls, but hopefully you would be happy with a boy?”

Dave smiles, “I’d be happy with either. A healthy baby. But a boy…our boy.” He murmurs, wanting to kiss you but he refrains, knowing you might not want that. “God, our boy.” He says softly, his heart pounding and he caresses your stomach.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask softly, afraid of waking up and finding this to be a dream. You would be completely heartbroken. “I have every intention of raising this little boy on my own. You don’t have to give up your life for me.”

“I’m not giving up my life. I died that day. The person I was died. You saved me. Gave me a new life. Baby, I need - I need to talk to you. I need to tell you what my life was. You need to know everything. Can we sit and talk?” He asks, adjusting his bag over his shoulder.

“Of course we can.” You nod and motion towards the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee?” You ask. “I’m drinking herbal teas these days, but I’m assuming you still like coffee.” You have a few muffins from your last batch, having started baking as a hobby during your pregnancy. It’s nesting you can only assume. “We can talk in the kitchen. I have a cake in the oven.”

“That sounds good, sweetheart.” Dave says as sets his bag down, following you into the kitchen. You start on making him a cup of coffee and he sits down at the kitchen table, watching you with a soft smile on his face. He’s missed you. So much. You set the cup of coffee down, still remembering how he likes it, and he admires the muffin you put in front of him. “Cake smells delicious too.” He says, “have you been working?” He asks, curious how you’ve been coping.

“I picked up a lot of shifts.” You nod, stirring the tea as it infuses with the hot water. “Practically lived at the hospital the first month.” You shoot him a guilty look and look back down at the cup in your hands. “Being here was….hard.” Despite having lived here for years before Dave’s arrival in your life, he had managed to ingrain himself into every corner of the home, expecting to see him every time you walked into a room. “I’m back to my normal shifts now. Because of the baby.”

“You need to be relaxing.” He tuts, “you should be resting, not rushing around a hospital.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of the coffee. “I’ve missed you. So much. I didn’t - I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“How are your girls?” You ask softly. “You have more than one, obviously. What are their names?” You’ve missed him too, but you want to know if he really is prepared to have them live in a split household. “I was thinking about you too.” You admit softly.

Dave reaches for your hand, “they are good. I have two. Alice and Molly. They have picked up that something has changed. Molly asked me why I’m so sad. Carol heard it. That’s why- I think that’s what pushed her to send me away.” He confesses, “I don’t - I don’t want to rock their world but what good am I as their father if my heart and mind are miles away?”

You feel your heart break and mend all at the same time. Squeezing his hand gently. “Dave, I-“ you are interrupted by the sound of another man’s voice. The same man who had come to visit you just days after Carol had come to take him away. “I knew I would find you here, Dave.” Your head turns to find Robert McCall standing in the doorway of your kitchen. You hadn’t even heard him come in. “That was a mistake.”

Dave stands up immediately, cursing himself for not having a gun. He hasn’t held one since before the accident. He shifts to stand in front of you, “McCall. I’m guessing you’ve come to finish the job. I get it. Just - just not here. Not in front of her.” Dave pleads slightly, holding his hands out in front of him.

You stand up, moving in front of Dave as Mr. McCall points the gun in his hand at the man you love. “Please. Don’t do this.” You murmur softly. “He's a good man. He’s- we are having a baby.” You remind him, caressing your stomach. “He has two daughters. Don’t leave them without their father.”

Dave looks at Robert over your shoulder before he shifts to stand in front of you again, “can I at least say goodbye?” He requests and McCall nods. Dave turns around to face you, his hands immediately cupping your cheeks after you stood up for him and he presses his lips to yours. A kiss to tell you thank you for everything, to say he’s sorry. A kiss to tell you how much he loves you. “I love you. So much. You’re everything. You and my children. I- tell our boy his daddy loved him. Don’t lie and tell him I was a good man because I’m not. I’ve done horrible things and they - my past - caught up to me. I love you.” He murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours as he breathes you in.

You start to cry, tears streaming down your cheeks and you can’t help it. You turn to Robert. “This man dances in the kitchen with me.” You sob. “He- he paints and he listens to music with joy and love. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” You are begging for his life, but you would do it. “If you kill him, you will have to kill me first.” You declare. “Are you willing to kill an innocent woman? Her baby inside her?”

Robert stares at you for a moment before his eyes flick over to Dave. He doesn't look like the man he knew. Gone is that hardness in his gaze, the tension in his jaw. He looks like a man who wants to live but is willing to die for his family. The Dave York he knew would never sacrifice himself for anyone. "Don't kill her. Kill me. I - fuck - not her. Me." Dave begs, stepping in front of you again. Robert narrows his eyes, assessing the man in front of him. He raises his gun and you scream but Dave shoves you back, his hands shaking slightly, and that's when Robert lowers the gun. "You've changed." He observes and Dave nods, "I don't - that isn't me anymore." He confesses, "I just want to be with my family." Robert tilts his head, "and you will. If I hear a goddamn word about you being back in the circles, you're a dead man. I will kill you without hesitation and you won't know when it will happen." Robert threatens and Dave nods, "understood." Robert looks over at you, nodding his head, "be safe." He orders and spins on his heel, heading down the hall. You gasp after a few seconds and Dave spins, running his hands over your body. "Are you okay?" He asks, needing to reassure himself that you're safe.

“I’m- I’m okay.” You assure him shakily and cling to him. Trying to steady your breath as you run your own hands over him. You had thought he was going to be killed and you couldn’t live with that. “I- I can’t- he was going to kill you.” You whimper, tears spilling over your lashes again. “I couldn’t- I love you.”

Dave reaches out to wipe your tears away with his thumbs, "don't. He - he's gone now, baby. You're safe." Dave doesn't know that for sure but he won't waste time worrying about Robert coming to kill him. He has already lived more than he ever planned to. He could've been killed that fateful day he washed up on shore. "I love you. I love you." He repeats, leaning in to kiss your lips, his hands cupping your cheeks as he closes his eyes and relishes the fact that you are safe.

“I want-“ you close your eyes and lean into his kisses. “I want you to stay.” You admit quietly. “I want you to stay with me and the baby. It’s selfish and I shouldn’t want it, but I do. I want you to stay.”

"I want to stay. I don't want to go back to Carol. She knows that. The girls...we will share custody and Carol can have the house. I want to be with you. Our son. The girls. My family." He chokes and kisses your lips again. "Let me - I need to feel you." He murmurs, his body burning from the adrenaline and the emotions.

You nod, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Anything you want.” You promise softly. “I’m yours, Dave.” You start to unbutton his shirt, also desperate to make sure he is really there. “Wait.” A thought crosses your mind and you pull back. “Have you- um- since you’ve been back with Carol-“ you don’t want to risk the baby’s health if he’s slept with his wife.

Dave shakes his head, "no. I have been sleeping in the guest room. I haven't touched her. I couldn't. Not when - not when you were all I could think about." He confesses, his hands sliding down to the hem of your shirt but he doesn't move to pull it over your head, not without you saying yes.

“My body has changed.” You warn him softly even though he would be aware of that since he has a wife and children.

He scoffs, "yeah. You're even more fucking beautiful." He says and you let him lift your shirt over your head. He sighs, shifting to kneel down in front of you, his hands caressing your belly. "Hi buddy. It's daddy. I'm here. I'm sorry it took me so long but I'm home." He murmurs, leaning in to press kisses to your stomach.

You bite your lip, running your fingers through his hair gently. Watching as he coos to the child you had created together. “I love you so much, Dave.”

He looks up at you, his hands sliding lower to your leggings. “I want to taste you again.” He murmurs, pulling your leggings down along with your panties. He leans in to breathe you in, nose buried in the curls at the apex of your thighs after he ducks under your belly. The leggings around your ankles as he nuzzles your sex with his nose.

“Dave.” Your eyes widen slightly and you grab onto the back of the chair. You hadn’t expected him to be so eager he couldn’t wait for the bedroom, but maybe you should have. He’s always been eager for you. Now, your belly is big enough that you can’t see him and you whine softly. “I need you, Dave.”

He nudges your legs apart with his shoulders, tilting his head so he can slide his tongue through your folds with a groan as soon as your tangy arousal hits his taste buds. His hands find your ass, keeping you stable and tilting your hips so he has more access to you.

You moan loudly, aware that there could be anyone to hear you, maybe even Robert if he had not left. You don’t care, let him hear. Dave’s tongue carves a path through your folds and you whimper his name again, clenching around nothing.

Dave groans when you moan loud enough to echo in your small kitchen. He hisses when you rock your hips down and his cock presses against the zipper of his jeans. He smacks your ass playfully, working your pussy over his face while you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Fuck baby.” Your head rolls back in pleasure. “Missed you so much. Fuck, I missed you. So much.” You whimper, tugging on his hair slightly. “My fingers and vibrator weren’t enough. Could never replace you.”

Dave groans at your confession, wanting to see that sometime, and he can feel how close you are with the way you’re tugging on his fingers. “Need you to cum for me.” He rasps as he pulls back for a moment. “Want to feel it. See it.” He pleads and resumes sucking on your clit.

You are so sensitive. So sensitive from the pregnancy. Whining softly, you feel the tension building in your core and it’s only a few short sucks to your clit later that you are cumming. Crying out his name, your thighs tremble and you rely on his strength to keep you upright. “Dave! Fuck! Dave!”

Dave loves the way you cry out his name. It sounds so sweet from your lips. “That’s it, baby. So perfect.” He murmurs, caressing your thighs as you recover from his onslaught. “I love you.” He declares again, kissing your belly and his cock is pressing against his zipper.

“Dave, I want you inside me.” You murmur, voice thick with pleasure. “On the table.” You decide, reaching down for him. “I can’t wait for the bedroom.”

He knows he should insist on the bedroom but he feels just as desperate to touch you. He shifts to stand up, carefully spinning you around and grabbing your thighs to lift you up onto the table. It shifts slightly and he reaches down to unbuckle his belt, hands fumbling as he tries to take his hard cock out of his jeans.

“You have me, baby.” You lean back on the table on your elbows and look up at him. “I’m all yours and you’re mine.” It’s humbling to know that he chose you, he put aside his life- his entire being-to be with you.

Dave leans in to press his lips to yours, loving how you so easily give all of yourself to him. He’s done terrible things in his past life and you don’t judge him. He grips his cock, pumping himself a couple of times before he notches the head at your entrance, his eye flicking up to your face to watch you as he pushes into you with a groan.

It’s different now that you are pregnant. Your walls are more sensitive, clenching down around him while your head rolls back on a moan. Hes thicker, that’s the only explanation for how fucking good he feels inside you. “Dave…..” you whimper. “More, baby, I need you.”

He doesn’t deny you. His hands caressing your body, and he squeezes your breast as he starts to move inside of you. “I’ll give you what you want. Whatever you want.” He vows, rocking into you with a groan. “So fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs, “full of my baby.”

You love him. You moan his name, loving how he is grinding up into you. Loving that he is here. With you. You know that things will need to be worked out, details seen to, but he’s with you. Hopefully Carol won’t deny him time with the girls. “Your baby.” You caress your stomach and smile. “You claimed me.”

Dave shakes his head, “you found me. You saved me. Shit baby. You - you’re a goddamn angel and I don’t deserve you. The things I’ve done…I don’t deserve you.” He pants, leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth, wanting to hear you cry out with pleasure.

“You deserve the world.” You insisted, crying out when he bites down on your nipple gently. “Baby, baby, I’m going to cum, you’re going make me cum!” You squeal, reaching down and rubbing your clit to give you that extra stimulation you need.

He bats your hand away, wanting to control your pleasure, and he hisses when you clamp down around him. “That’s it baby. Take it all. Cum for me.” He pleads, watching your eyes squeeze shut and you hold your breath as you start to clamp down around his cock. “That’s it baby. Shit. You’re so tight.” He hisses as you squeeze his length and soak him. “Shit.” He pants, trying to rock you through it and it’s been months since he came. He refused to have sex with Carol. He is pent up and it doesn’t take more than a half dozen thrusts for him to push deep and paint your walls with his hot cum.

You whine at the feeling, loving how he fills you up. Riding out your high, you watch his face. Enjoying the way his brow smooths out and his face contorted in pleasure as he rocks himself through it. “Soo good, baby.” You mumble thickly, smiling lazily. “Feels so good.”

He leans down to kiss you, mindful of your bump, and he nudges his nose against yours, “love you.” He whispers, his hand caressing your bump and he sighs when you kiss his chin. He knows he’s made the right decision to come back to you. 

**** 

“Girls. Girls. You gotta wait for them to cool down.” You chuckle at Alice and Molly trying to grab one of the freshly cooked cookies from the tray. “You’ll burn your fingers.” Dave tuts as he walks into the kitchen, your son, Anthony, in his arms. “He needs feeding, babe. I’ll deal with the cookie monsters.” He says, coming over to you to slide the baby into your arms. The girls squeal when he growls and rushes towards them in the kitchen. “Cookie monsters.” He playfully growls and they squeal, running into the living room. “They will be back before too long.” You chuckle, taking your breast out to feed the baby. “And before they are, I gotta tell you something…the divorce is final. As of this morning. So there’s something I want to do.” Dave reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small box. “You saved me. In so many ways. You saved my life. You saved my morality. You saved me from a job that nearly got me killed. You’re my angel and there isn’t a single day that I don’t thank God for you and our family. Will you let me make an honest woman of you? Marry me?” He asks, opening the box to display the diamond ring inside.

Your eyes widen in surprise, sure that despite divorcing Carol, Dave wouldn’t want to get married again. You were fine with that because you know what you mean to him. “Dave….” holding your son, you can’t fall into his arms but you immediately nod. “Yes! Yes, of course baby, I love you so much.” You promise, tears slipping down your cheeks.

He grins, leaning in to kiss you. After a few moments, he pulls back to take the ring out of the box. He slides it onto your left hand after you shift the baby over into your elbow and he looks down at the diamond on your finger. “Beautiful.” He murmurs, his eyes flicking up to you. The girls rush back into the kitchen and their eyes widen at the ring on your finger. “Oh it’s so pretty.” The girls coo. They were cautious at first, upset at mommy and daddy living apart but they have grown to love you. Dave grins, looking at his children before he looks at you and winks. No longer a killer, you saved his life and you saved his soul.

[7s3ven]

ATHENA’S GIRL. luke (pjo) / pt 2

trailer > part 1 > part 2

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… Chaos endures on the trio’s trip to Camp Half-Blood and Luke learns that Y/N isn’t as tough as she projects herself to be. Upon finally arriving at camp, Y/N is met with a pleasant surprise when Athena claims her on the spot.

“Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you. I see you changing from how I've designed you. Have you forgotten your purpose?"

Warning : LONG chapter

—

Athena had one goal in life; to create a dazzling warrior who would be worthy of calling themselves her golden child. She moulded her kids into the people she wanted them to be but they often strayed from her ideals, only disappointing her. Perhaps her biggest success in life was designing Y/N.

She was such a brilliantly bright teenager with a natural knack for fighting, using her prior learnt skills from numerous sports classes (all compulsory at her school). Athena liked to call Y/N her pride and joy. Or, she would’ve if she didn’t notice the fondness forming between Y/N and a certain Hermes son.

Y/N lay asleep on the train, resting her head in a pillow she had found in one of the compartments. Luke and Chris sat across from her, impatiently tapping their feet.

“Psst.” Luke whispered, nudging his friend, “You wanna check out the food cart?” Chris turned to stare at Luke, slight frowning.

“She told us to stick together.” He muttered back, gesturing over to Y/N who was quietly murmuring in her sleep.

“She’ll be fine. We’ll be quick anyway. By the time she wakes up, we’ll be back.” Luke reassured Chris, ushering him towards the door. The two Hermes boys silently shuffled out of the small room and walked down the hallway, following the smell of food.

Y/N turned on her side, resting her head against the back of the plush seat. She groaned, half conscious yet still half asleep. Everything was a blurred daze as she slipped back into an unconscious state, ending up in a barren desert.

The H/C-haired girl looked around, confused and a little shaken. She quickly pinched her arm and winced when she felt a twinge of pain. “Where am I?” She whispered to herself, yet her voice echoed.

The sand beneath her feet rumbled and twirled around her, forming a hurricane. Y/N panted in panic as grains of debris threatened to hit her eyes. She turned her head to shield her face until the sand finally dropped to the ground again, revealing a beautiful and grand hall.

The walls were pure white with delicate golden details. If Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d think this was what first class would have looked on the Titanic ship. Or what was portrayed in the movies, at least.

“Do you like it, my dear?”

Y/N spun around at the sound of a silky, feminine voice. A tall woman sat on a marble carved throne, resting her elbows on the sides. She smiled at Y/N. Her skin was pale, almost ghostly looking, and her brown eyes held warmth within them. She brushed a lock of long, shiny raven hair aside.

“I know how much you wanted to see the inside of the Titanic.” She spoke again, crossing one leg over the other. “Come closer, don’t be shy, my love.” She beckoned Y/N forward.

The H/C-nette slowly stepped towards the goddess. “Who… are you?” She asked when she finally stood not a meter away.

“I’m your mother, dear.”

The more Y/N looked at the woman, the more she saw their similarities. Although Y/N’s hair wasn’t as glossy as her’s, their sharp facial features still held the same stony gaze and their heights reflected one another.

“Why am I here?” Y/N carefully asked, her eyes darting around to stare the crystal chandelier.

“I’ve been watching you, my love. You’re a wonderfully talented girl gifted with such academic skill.” The deity let a small laugh slip past her red lips, “But I must warn you, do be careful on what you choose in life. Not everything is as it seems.”

Y/N sent her mother a confused look. She could decode complicated English written in her beloved books but she couldn’t understand what the goddess was telling her.

“You are still a young girl, Y/N.” Finally, Athena rose. She stood before Y/N in all her beautiful glory. “I understand that the topic of love may plague your mind and hide your true goals from you. But is it worth choosing a boy over high education and your academic studies?”

Y/N was slowly piecing everything together. “Is this…” She spoke softly as she trailed off, “Is this about Luke? Because I don’t like him. Not at all.”

“I didn’t mention a name, dear. You came up with that one on your own. Don’t let a boy cloud your judgment, especially not a Hermes son. They are as tricky as they are mischievous.”

Athena pulled Y/N into a sudden hug that seemed a little too tight to be friendly. Y/N struggled to breathe while Athena rested her chin on her daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t forget the lessons I’ve taught you.” She whispered, “I designed you to be perfect and I’ll be damned if I let a Hermes boy of all people ruin my greatest achievement.”

She spoke so gently but there was a dark edge to her voice; a twisted and wicked side to her beauty that Y/N had failed to notice before. “If you ever forget your purpose, I’ll be sure to remind you.”

Her voice faded as Y/N’s dream began to disappear. Her surroundings floated away like watercolour paint bleeding into thick paper until Y/N found herself sprawled on the couch and Luke and Chris nowhere to be seen.

She groaned as she sat up, her groggy eyes stinging from the bright sun. “Ugh, where did they go?” She muttered to herself as she peeked through the door. She yelped when something suddenly crashed. The floor shook and the train came to an abrupt halt.

“Attention passengers, we seem to be having a few problems with the engine. It’ll be up and running again in at least an hour.” The conductor chimed through the speaker.

Y/N cautiously opened the door, coming face to face with Luke. She frowned as she pulled the pair of demigods inside. “You can’t sneak off like that!” She hissed, “We’re not in vacation, you know that, right?”

“Relax, writer. We were just getting by food.” Luke handed her a squished sandwich, “Besides, I don’t think there’s any monsters on this train.”

“Yeah, but they’ll be close to catching up. We have to keep moving.” Y/N locked the door and closed the blinds, concealing what she was about to do next. She picked up her spear, which seemed to take the form of a weapon at the most convenient times, and smashed it into the window.

The plastic glass broke away in shards, falling to the ground. Luke and Chris gaped at her. “Let’s go.” She demanded, picking up all her stuff.

“Remind me never to mess with her.” Chris mumbled to Luke as they jumped out the window. They stayed low but everybody on the train was too busy gossiping about the engine to notice a trio of teens run into a forest.

“It feels like we’re walking in circles.” Luke groaned while Y/N huffed in annoyance.

“That’s because you are. You’ve been walking around that tree stump for the past ten minutes.” She snapped. The group had sat down to rest and Luke took it as his chance to get on Y/N’s nerves again. He chuckled.

"Camp shouldn't be too far." Chris said, looking around. Though, he wasn't too sure. He was merely saying that to calm Y/N's nerves.

"We should keep moving. Better safe than sorry." Y/N stood up, forcing Luke to finally stop circling around the stump.

"But I'm so tired." Luke complained, whining like a man child.

"Well, I guess you'll have to accept being a dragon's snack then." Y/N snapped, furrowing her brows in frustration. Luke and Chris shared a look.

"She's in charge." Chris exclaimed, not wanting to be the tiebreaker. Luke groaned but begrudgingly followed after Y/N.

“As long as we follow the train tracks, we should be fine.” Y/N piped up.

“That’s going to be hard then.” Luke pointed up ahead where the tracks mysteriously disappeared. All that was left was a singular stick of wood. “The monsters are becoming smarter.”

As if on a cue, a shrill laugh cut through the tense forest. Y/N’s head darted up to see a woman with large, eagle-like wings. Her sharp eyes landed on Y/N first. “Just who I’ve been looking for.” She uttered with a piercing voice. She dove below the trees, outstretching a clawed hand to grasp Y/N. Luke quickly stepped in front, swinging his sword at the harpy.

“Give me the girl and I’ll let you be on your way.” The harpy chittered, clumsily landing and circling around Y/N. Luke followed the actions of the monster, narrowing his eyes.

“Why her? If anything, I’m the most valuable member here.” Luke quickly replied. On the sidelines, Chris brandished his sharp sword, watching the harpy carefully.

“Oh, you don’t know what you have in your possession, my dear boy. She’s not merely a girl. She’s valuable.” An unsettled grin pulled at the harpy’s lips. “Just give her to me and I’ll”- The creature was cut off by Chris slicing one of her wings. Luke leapt forward as well, expertly cutting her in places he knew wouldn’t kill her solely to torture her.

“I’m finishing my quest so unfortunately, I can’t give you her.” Luke spat as the harpy tried to dodge his swift attacks.

“What if I told you Hermes would finally see you again?” Her words made Luke freeze. He stared at her in shock, lips parted like he wanted to say something.

Chris was shoving everything into his bag, getting ready to make a run for it as soon as Luke was snapped out of his trance. He grabbed Y/N. “We have to go.” He said but Y/N was stubborn.

“You want me?” She asked, stepping forward with only her glowing spear in hand. The harpy’s eyes flickered to her and she harshly pushed Luke aside.

“Your confidence will be your undoing, girl.” The harpy hissed. “Can you even use that weapon?”

Y/N mockingly shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, I took down a dragon but maybe that was a lucky shot.” The harpy wasn’t able to react before the spear stabbed through her stomach. Realising she had made a terrible mistake of underestimating Y/N, all the monster could do was scream as she faded away.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked Luke, who was still kneeled on the floor.

He scoffed. “I’m fine. I didn’t need you to save me.”

Y/N stared at him in disbelief, “What? I was trying to help!”

“Yeah? Well, stop showing off. For the record, I’m easily capable of taking down a dragon and harpy too. You aren’t special.” Luke glared into Y/N’s eyes and she returned his harsh gaze, “Don’t let your arrogance cloud your mind.” The Hermes boy was so close that Y/N could smell his fading cologne.

She was the first to look away in annoyance. “I never said you couldn’t slay those monsters.”

“Yeah, well you thought it then!” Luke exclaimed as Y/N walked off, getting a head start.

“Dude.” Chris finally spoke, “I thought you were like a chick magnet.”

“I believe in being nice to women but her even breathing air annoys me.” Luke grumbled before he jogged after Y/N.

“Haven’t we already passed that rock?” Y/N questioned after an hour of walking.

“I’ve never seen that rock in my life.” Luke snapped back. Somewhere along the dull trip, he had gotten to the front and was now leading the group.

“We passed it on the train.” Y/N uttered as Luke’s gaze began to wander and landed on a nearby building. “And if the train passed it, then that means”- Luke cut Y/N off.

“We’re going the wrong way.” Luke finished. Y/N took a deep breath to calm her agitation. “The harpy must’ve been sent to confuse us.” Luke quickly turned to Y/N.

“You went the wrong way!” They shouted in unison, pointing and pinning the blame on each other. Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t blame me!” She exclaimed, slapping his shoulder.

“This is your fault! You walked off first!”

“And you kept walking! You idiot!”

“Don’t call me an idiot! You… you… manipulative, psycho bitch!”

“Are you sure you’re yelling that at the right person?!”

“No! I got it off Gossip Girl! Percy watches it!”

“Who is Percy?!”

Chris pushed his way between Y/N and Luke, shoving them apart. “Guys! It’s only an hour setback! We can get back on the train!”

“The train tracks are missing, genius!” Y/N turned on him.

“We’ll take another train.” Chris replied.

“The next train is in an hour!” Luke added.

“You guys fight and back each other up like a married couple! Make up your mind!” When Chris was getting frustrated now. Y/N groaned to blow off some steam.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” She said once she calmed down, “We’re going to catch the next train and we stay low until it arrives. Once we’re on the train, we go to our compartment as quickly as possible and we don’t leave until the train stops. Got it?” Y/N sternly stared at the two boys. They silently nodded.

“Don’t make eye contact with anyone.” Y/N warned, fiddling with the tickets.

“You’re going to rip them. Give them here.” Luke snatched the tickets from her, safely shoving it into his pocket.

“So, what about food?” Chris questioned, “We have to eat something on the train.”

“I preordered our meals. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“And you didn’t ask us? What if we don’t like it?” It seemed like Luke’s goal in life was to frustrate Y/N. And it worked every time.

“Train food is better than plane food.” She grumbled, “If you don’t like it then suck it up, you big baby. Nobody cares about your opinion.”

“You wound me, writer.” Luke quietly chuckled to himself, clasping his hands together.

“Train’s in forty minutes. We shouldn’t be out in the open.” Y/N dragged the two boys back into the shade, away from the burning sun. “We wait here. Don’t move.” Luke tried to walk off but Y/N was quick to grab him.

“What if we need to go to the bathroom?”

“Then be quick. Obviously I’m not going to follow you into the bathroom.” Y/N exhaled in agitation before grabbing her bag, pulling out a book.

“Is this really a good time to read, writer?” Luke asked, peeking over her shoulder. Y/N didn’t reply, which only provoked Luke to annoy her further. Chris was wildly shaking his head but the brunette swordsman only grinned.

“Hey, writer.” He poked her, “Moby Dick is a stupid author.”

Finally, Y/N looked at him again, giving Luke the attention he so desperately craved. “Moby Dick was the whale. The author was Herman Melville.” Luke’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment but he tried to sheepishly play his mistake off.

“I know. I was just tryna get your attention.”

Y/N turned back to her book, silently flipping the page. Chris held back muffled laughs and Luke subtly flipped him off.

The minutes passed like slow hours and eventually, Chris walked off to find a bathroom. Luke was left sitting next to Y/N, his knee bumping her’s occasionally. He clicked his tongue to a random quiet beat to entertain himself.

“Stop that.” Y/N demanded.

“Stop what? I ain’t doing anything, writer.” Luke innocently played it off.

“Stop existing!”

“Woah, I don’t wanna kill myself. Otherwise the girls at camp would be doomed with my charming looks.”

“Yes, well they’d be fine without your so-called wits. You thought Moby Dick was the author. Ha! A whale writing. That’d be something, Castellan.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

“You’re really mean, do you know that?”

“And you’re insufferable. Though, I doubt you know what that word means. It means annoying.”

“I’m not dumb, writer.”

“Moby Dick was a whale.” Y/N tauntingly reminded him with a pointed look which had Luke’s cheeks turning red once more.

“Stop bringing up the whale!” Luke exclaimed, groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/N looked away, victoriously smirking.

“The train is ahead of time.” Chris uttered as soon as he returned from the bathroom, “It’ll be here in ten minutes. Let’s get ready to board.”

As Y/N stood on the platform, letting the scorching sun beat down on her, she could feel a pair of eyes stare daggers into her back. She slowly turned her head, locking eyes with a tall Russian man. Almost too tall to be human. He grinned at her, showing off his sharp and pointed teeth.

Luke took notice of the slender man as well. “They know we’re here.” He whispered, subconsciously stepping forward to block Y/N from the man’s view.

“Are we sure he’s a monster or just a little creepy looking?” Chris butted in.

“Let’s get into our compartment as soon as possible. I booked one near the end so it’d be easier for us to get out if anything goes wrong.” Y/N muttered as she stepped onto the steel stairs. She handed the conductor her ticket and he examined it before letting her pass.

“This one.” She mumbled to the two boys. She shoved the door open and once all of them were tucked safely inside, she slammed it shut and locked it.

Luke and Chris watched in confusion as she searched the wall for something they couldn’t see. “What are you doing?” Luke questioned, a little confused.

“Compartments like these often have a door leading to the next one.” Y/N exclaimed, “These doors are able to be locked and unlocked but I don’t doubt a monster’s ability on being able to acquire a key. Oh, and close the curtains, will you?”

Chris was quick to do as Y/N said, grasping onto the velvet fabric and yanking it to conceal the window.

“You seem to know what you’re doing. Are you sure you haven’t run away before?” Luke said that in a joking tone but Y/N’s frantic actions to find the lock paused.

“I… uh… tried running away when I was ten. The orphanage wasn’t exactly the best place to live. But after spending what little savings I had, I returned because there was nowhere else I could go.” Y/N cleared her throat and shook her head. “But that’s in the past. I don’t regret it because I was able to see parts of the world that nobody in the orphanage could. And it was beautiful.”

“So how’d you end up in that private school?” Luke pressed on further.

“The school has a deal with the orphanage. Every year, one child is picked to study at the school. It’s like a scholarship, if you will. All costs, even lunch, are covered. And I knew I wanted out because I couldn’t stand being in a cramped room any longer. So I worked harder than everybody else and I studied overtime because I don’t accept defeat. I get what I want and that scholarship was no different.”

Luke let out a low whistle. “Impressive, writer. But I didn’t expect anything less from you.”

“I found the lock.” Y/N announced, “Do either of you have a key or a pocket knife or anything I can jam in there?” Luke handed Y/N a small pocket knife and she slightly smiled before harshly shoving the blade into the lock. “That’ll hold it.”

She collapsed on a squeaky mattress, her legs dangling off the bed. Luke could hear the faint sound of her back clicking.

“How long will this train take?” He asked as he sat down across from Y/N. Chris had already dozed off, sleep-deprived and exhausted. Y/N subtly shrugged.

“Maybe a day? I want to get off as soon as possible because that man creeped me out. Check the other wall, will you?”

Luke had no choice but to stand again and search the smooth barrier for a lock, running his hands over the wall and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Nothing.” He concluded. Y/N hummed, seemingly pleased.

“Meals will be delivered to us. In the mean time, avoid making interaction with anyone.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Luke hesitated for a moment before he spoke again.

“So… why’d you run away?” Luke was met with silence before he heard Y/N quietly sigh.

“The orphanage didn’t treat us as humans but rather as pests they had to get rid of. They were so happy to see me go to school because it meant they had to spend less time on keeping me in line. I was… a troubled kid. Now I know why. It’s the godly blood, isn’t it?” Y/N cracked open one eye to look at Luke, who nodded.

“You didn’t regret running away?” Luke questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He heard Y/N lightly laugh.

“I’ll never regret it because those were the best weeks of my life. I met people I had never seen before and I found comfort in knowing I’d never see them again. There was one girl who was like me, troubled and a little angry. We became best friends for the few nights we spent together until she had to move on.”

“What was she like?”

“Beautiful… and dangerous. She enjoyed starting fights. She was a little younger than me… with brown curled hair and pretty hazel eyes. Her name was…” Y/N trailed off, “Oh… well, I don’t remember now. That’s a shame.”

“Clarisse.” Luke piped up, “That was her name, right? Clarisse?”

Y/N stared at him with her lips parted. “Yes… that was her name. How do you know her?”

“She’s a demigod too. A daughter of Ares. She’s actually at camp as we speak, waiting for new kids to arrive so she can torment them.” Luke chuckled, turning his gaze to stare at the floor.

“You know, you aren’t as mean as you try to be.” He uttered after a full minute of awkward silence. Y/N’s eyes darted to look at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “I’ve met girls like you, writer. Girls who do everything to block people out because they don’t see themselves as someone a person could ever like. Those types of girls suffer a lot… don’t be like them, writer. Bring down your walls for even just a few hours.”

Y/N opened her mouth to reply but a shrill scream interrupted her.

“Hey! What happened to the rule of no one leaving?!” Luke shouted as Y/N rushed to the door.

“That doesn’t apply to this situation!” Y/N loudly retorted. Luke spared Chris a glance before he darted after the H/C-haired girl. She was already kneeled beside a woman, frantically shaking her and checking her pulse.

“What happened?” One of the train workers rushed over to see the commotion, his face paling at the sight of the woman’s blood staining the lush carpet below.

“She screamed and ran out of her cabin.” An onlooker explained.

“No pulse… she’s already dead.” Y/N whispered.

“Everyone, to your compartments. Do not move until we give the all clear!” The worker yelled, blowing his whistle harshly. Y/N fumbled around with something in the body’s pocket and Luke was quick to drag her away.

“Someone killed her, Castellan… a swift stab to her chest. Was it a monster?” Y/N breathed as Luke led her to a quiet corner. He shook his head.

“Monsters shouldn’t affect mortals. The mist covers them. This might be actually murder.”

Y/N shuddered. “Warn Chris.” She demanded while Luke furrowed his eyebrows.

“What are you going to do?” He questioned.

“I’m going to search for evidence.” Y/N up a large stolen key, “I wasn’t up until three in the morning solving true crime stories for nothing.”

•

Y/N carefully slipped into the woman’s cabin, her eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. She crouched down, looking underneath the messy bed. Below the rickety wooden frame lay a single pipette. Y/N reached out her arm, grasping onto it.

“Why would someone need this? Unless this lady was an arts and craft kind of person.” Everywhere Y/N looked, all she found were scraps of paper and an occasional book. “Oh, you deserved to be stabbed for reading this. What a monstrosity.”

Y/N wrinkled up her face as she pulled out a copy of Lolita. She threw it aside but a quiet clang caught her attention. A small brooch had fallen out of the novel and rolled across the floor, hitting Y/N’s shoe.

She crouched down and examined it, running her thumb over the letter H that was engraved in the rusty metal.

“What was this woman’s name?” Y/N grabbed the bags, looking for any kind of name. “Mia… not starting with H. This was left behind… and this pipette… it’s used for cleaning smoking pipes but I see nothing. She wasn’t a smoker.” Y/N shoved the two items into her pocket and quickly exited the compartment, coming face to face with the unusually tall man from before.

“It’s not safe to be lurking around.” He grinned, which gave Y/N no comfort.

“I was just leaving.” She muttered, letting him brush past her. He tipped his hat.

“As you were, miss.” He slinked away and something white fell out of his pocket. Y/N was quick to rush over and pick it up. “A pipette…” The man didn’t smell like the strong scent of tobacco that always seemed to trail after smokers. Y/N narrowed her eyes.

“Where have you been?” Luke stood in front of the door like an angry mom waiting for her kid to arrive home. “The workers called a mandatory meeting. They didn’t know you were missing, luckily.”

“Was there anyone who smoked a pipe?” Y/N asked, ignoring Luke’s previous statement.

“Uh, yeah. A male doctor. Why?”

“Did you get his name?” Y/N was relentless with her inquires.

“The worker called the doctor Harvard Armstrong.”

“Harvard? Like the university? Who names their kid that? That’s just sad.” Y/N scoffed her herself. “But it works.”

“What works?” Luke was sick of being left out of whatever Y/N was planning. He could practically see the cogs turning in her head.

“I found these in the woman’s cabin. Her name’s Mia.” Y/N threw her sad evidence onto her bed, “A brooch with an H on it and a pipette. This pipette is specifically for cleaning pipe cigarettes and Harvard and H match up.”

Chris lifted his brows. “Are we seriously solving this murder crime right now?”

Y/N tuned out his words. “There’s not many people who use a pipe these days. It’s rare to come across. And it was a stupid clue to leave, even under a bed. Is it safe to walk around the train?”

“Yes, but it isn’t advised- Woah, where are you going?!” Luke grabbed Y/N’s arm before she could walk away again. “Look, you may be half god but you’re also half human. You can die just as easily! Don’t go off and risk your life for some Mia lady you didn’t even know!”

“Then come with me, Castellan. What’re you afraid of?” Y/N shoved him aside while Luke glanced at Chris for help.

“Just go, dude. I’ll lock the door. Knock three times when you come back.”

That’s how Luke ended up trailing after Y/N in the deserted corridor.

“I can assure you, Mister Norman, that we are doing everything in our power to catch the culprit.”

As Y/N walked around a corner, she spotted the same sharp-toothed man talking with another staff member.

“Bullshit.” Norman spat and scoffed.

“Are you sure you aren’t the culprit, Mister Norman?” Y/N spoke up. Luke glared at her, trying to shush her.

“Miss L/N, this is a private conversation.” The worker uttered, “You shouldn’t even be out.”

“You’re Russian, right?” Y/N stepped forward, much to Luke’s dismay. “H… I found it in a book written by a Russian author. Isn’t H in the Russian Alphabet pronounced as N? Harvard… Norman. That was a tricky one you left. And the pipette. Very cunning to try and blame someone else. But Harvard Armstrong, the man you tried accusing, was in the room next to us and he never left until after.”

“You’re a nosy girl.” Norman grumbled.

“Yeah… and I just don’t like your vibe altogether. This is your’s, right? Your next reaction will confirm it.” Y/N tossed the brooch high into the air and smiled as it neared the floor. Norman was quick to catch it, holding it close to his chest as if it were a sacred treasure.

Y/N winked, “Bingo.”

Norman quickly turned tail and tried to run but the train worker was faster, practically tackling him to the ground.

“You just solved a fucking murder crime in under an hour.” Luke said, astounded. “How did you know it was even him?"

“As I said, I didn’t like his vibe… and it was a gamble anyway. I took a lucky guess.”

•

“I can’t believe she solved a murder with only two pieces of evidence.” Chris whispered to Luke as they strolled through the woods towards camp.

“Again, I can hear you.” Y/N turned to glare at the boys, “I haven’t disappeared or suddenly gone deaf.”

“Dealing with a deaf you probably would’ve been easier.” Luke cheekily smiled as he spoke his mind.

“Ugh.” Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes. “I can’t stand you.”

“Then sit on my face.” Luke mumbled but it was loud enough for the other two to hear.

Chris choked on air while Y/N spun around bewilderment. "What?" She seethed in shock. Luke battered his lashes like he had done no wrong.

"What? I didn't say anything." He played along, much to Y/N's annoyance.

"You weirdo." She muttered, "How far is camp? It's getting dark and I don't really want to be a harpy's midnight snack."

Chris pointed at a tree on top of a hill that stood not too far away. “At least two more minutes.” He said. Y/N was relieved to finally step past the tree and into the temporary shade it gave her.

“It seems people are already waiting for you.” Luke mumbled under his breath as he spotted the small crowd of demigods standing behind Chiron, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl the oracle wanted Luke and Chris to retrieve.

“She doesn’t look like anything special.” A pretty blond with glossy lips whispered to the equally stunning group surrounding her.

A golden haze began to form the moment Y/N paused in front of Chiron. The golden mist swirled like the sand in Y/N’s dream, forming a majestic looking owl that loudly cooed and flew high into the sky. It dived back down, exploding into golden glitter that rained down on Y/N like heavy pieces of hail.

“Welcome Y/N, daughter of Athena, to Camp Half-Blood.”

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303 @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @luvvfromme @y0urm0m12 @mochi-lover26 @annispamz

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - A Simulation

author note: ... so this got out of hand and ended up being over 6500 words x-x really curious to see how you guys like it and react to the twist. i'm so anxious if you guys will enjoy it that i can't even right my usual rambly A/N!!

characters: Idia Shroud x GN!Reader, Ortho Shroud (Platonic)

Thump. Thump. Thump. Slam.

You sighed.

The sound of quarrelling which, through Ramshackle’s thin walls, sounded like it could be happening right next door to you.

The sound of a quiet but stern lecture, a voice full of authority that would not stand being questioned.

You rolled over in bed and checked the time on your phone. 7:00 am. On a Saturday. You groaned and rolled onto your stomach and buried your face in your pillow – not the best quality but comfortable enough – as Grim snored, spread out at the foot of the bed. You were pretty sure he could sleep through a hurricane.

Just why had you agreed to allow the NRC Tribe to stay here, again? Perhaps it was masochism?

But that didn’t do Vil any justice. He had warned you that tenacity was Pomefiore’s thing.

The morning after Vil had grandly declared that he had moved in was… Something. The best way you could describe it was that it played out like a fever dream. You had hoped it was, actually. You kept pinching yourself, hoping you’d wake up any moment. Of course, you didn’t.

You had woken the next morning to Vil knocking on your door. He was rather insistent, as he didn’t leave even when you ignored his knockings in favour of burying yourself further into the warm comfort of your bed. Finally, you dragged yourself out of bed and ripped open the door, glaring bleary eyed at Vil, who stood looking annoyingly immaculate for so early in the morning.

“I’ve prepared us some breakfast. I see you need time to get ready, but please do hurry. I have a schedule to keep.” Vil informed you, not even waiting for your response as he turned on his heel and walked down the hall. You grumbled and slammed the door shut, reeling both from the early morning veiled insult and the fact that somehow Grim had slept through it all, still snoring away peacefully on your bed.

You readied yourself as quickly as you could but took an extra few moments to smooth out your appearance more than you usually would. You’d be sitting opposite Vil Schoenheit after all, and you could really do without his comments this early in the morning.

You walked down to the lounge to see that Vil had indeed set the table up for breakfast. Mismatched bowls filled with yoghurt, berries, and some sort of… Seeds? A jug of orange juice also sat on the table, just enough for one glass each, along with a heartier jug filled to the brim with water. You had to admit, you hadn’t had such a healthy, well put together breakfast since you got there. Most days you had to forgo your breakfast entirely in order to stop Grim terrorising the school population before first period began. If this was Vil’s charm offensive, you could get behind it.

“This was the best I could do with your dorm’s… Limited implements,” Vil sighed as he drizzled a modest serving of honey on his own bowl of yoghurt before pushing the honey container towards you, “I would have brought my blender but I wasn’t if Ramshackle had running electricity.” Vil commented dryly, “does Crowley not ensure you have the needed facilities to live adequately? That man is shameless.”

Now this was a conversation you could get behind.

“Crowley doesn’t ensure anything ever.” You grumbled as you drizzled some honey onto your own yoghurt bowl under the watchful eye of Vil. The amount you put must have been satisfactory because he didn’t say anything, only began to mix his spoon in his own bowl.

“The prize money from the SDC would help change that. You could get yourself better kitchenware, maybe some more soft furnishings…” Vil began, and you rolled your eyes as you munched on some berries. Nice segway.

“Not interested.” You responded bluntly, although Vil didn’t seem too surprised by that. He picked up the orange juice jug, pouring you a glass first before filling his own, as manners would dictate. “Why are you so against the NRC Tribe staying here? You only stand to gain from doing so. Whilst there may be a bit of disruption, I’ve assured you that I would keep disruption to your routine to a minimum. I must say… I do find your stalwart refusal a little odd.” Vil stared hard at you now, and you tried not to visibly squirm from the intensity that he was studying you.

It seemed that all your efforts to not bring attention to yourself were doing the exact opposite in this situation. Vil found your behaviour odd, and Ace and Deuce had also found your behaviour odd when you didn’t attend the Pomefiore ballroom when you were requested to do so. It was rather annoying, actually, how all your hard work to be as unnoticeable as possible was turning out to be fruitless.

But if there was one thing you could rely on for a believable defence, it was the inherent selfishness of the Night Raven College students (and arguably, staff).

“Why should I go out of my way to help you? Regardless of what you offer, it sounds like a pain. I have to accommodate seven extra students? On top of all the trouble I get from Grim anyway? Sounds like a drag. Plus I enjoy having my own space.” You quipped back, your expression indifferent.

“Hmph. It seems like you fit in here more than you think.” Vil shot back sassily, an elegant eyebrow raised at your open self-centeredness.

All throughout breakfast you and Vil had an unproductive back and forth where he tried to gain some ground on getting the training camp to go ahead in Ramshackle. It was exhausting, but you managed to hold out long enough that breakfast was over and there was no reason to stay at the table any longer, for either of you. You were just leaving the lounge when there was a energetic knock on Ramshackle’s main doors. You sighed, wondering why someone else was now knocking on your door, but for all you knew it could be Ace and Deuce, wanting to walk with you to class. That reminded you that you needed to get Grim up too. Reluctantly, you walked towards the entrance, pulling one of the creaky doors open.

“Bonjo—”

You slammed the door shut.

“That was rude. Rook is here to walk with me to class. He also is delivering my blender.” Vil scolded, having followed you partially to the entrance, obviously predicting that it was Rook. You groaned loudly regardless of this, bumping your forehead lightly against the entrance door’s old wood. You had to deal with Rook Hunt now too? This was getting out of hand.

Grudgingly, you pulled open the door again, not bothering to mask your expression of displeasure as you stared at Rook, who stood with his usual enigmatic smile on your doorstep, with a blender tucked carefully under his arm.

“Ahh Trickster! How delightful your disgruntled expression looks first thing in the morning! Magnifique! Like a raging storm cloud threatening the blue skies! And Roi de Poison, as radiant as ever! Like the brightest of suns in comparison! Oh, how I wish I could burn this image into my mind forevermore!” Rook enthusiastically sang, and it was as if you could feel your mood plummeting in real time.

“Oh give it a rest…” You muttered under your breath, having to duck out of the way as Vil breezed past you and grabbed the blender off of Rook. “Yes, that is quite enough of that, Rook. There is no cloud on this earth that could threaten my shine.” Vil commented, disappearing back into Ramshackle to no doubt deposit his blender in the kitchen. “Of course not, beautiful Vil!” Rook eagerly agreed.

Now why were you catching back handed insults from both Pomefiore housewardens?!

You grumbled under your breath about this, but Rook didn’t seem to mind or care. He continued to smile at you, watching you with those ever-observing eyes.

“You seem agitated, Trickster! But might I say, you do look beautiful this morning. A fine colour to your cheeks and a wicked glint in your eye! I see that your shared breakfast with Vil has done wonders for your complexion and spirit already.” Rook continued, managing to look harmless and sly at the same time. Quite the feat.

How exactly did he know that you had breakfast with Vil?! Had he been watching you? You cursed internally, swearing to yourself that you’d buy some thick curtains for Ramshackle out of your next allowance. But knowing Rook, that wouldn’t be enough.

Instead, you glare at Rook and point a finger at him, which he watches with glee, as if he is enjoying the situation. “Stop talking.” You say firmly, and he holds his hands up genially, not at all offended at your shortness. In your opinion, Rook Hunt was a whole valid reason on why you didn’t want the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle.

“Rook, it’s time for us to go. I don’t want to be late.” Vil declared as he strode out of Ramshackle, and you had to agree with Rook in that the run down exterior of Ramshackle didn’t take away from Vil’s shine in the slightest. It was quite amazing, and also kind of irritating. “You should leave shortly too, being late would be unbecoming of a dorm Prefect.” Vil sniped over his shoulder at you as he began to leave with Rook. Rook gave you a hearty parting wave, “farewell, Trickster! I do hope to be sharing a dorm with you soon!”

Not at all ominous, thank you Rook.

“And don’t forget about Grim.” Vil called, not even bothering to turn towards you as he continued on in the direction of Night Raven’s main school building.

Oh, damn it. Grim! You rushed back upstairs, on a mission to get Grim out of bed and out of Ramshackle before you were late and Crewel chewed you both out again.

After that, Vil was a semi-permanent fixture at Ramshackle. He would return in the evenings, no doubt after running the NRC Tribe ragged during practice, and then he would put you through your paces. He’d critique most of the things you did, and it wasn’t like his words of advice were unhelpful, it just didn’t help that they were delivered with the trademark Schoenheit sass. More often than not you were left reeling because he delivered his flyby judgments with such poise and poison, you were suddenly gaining a new appreciation for poor Epel.

Eventually you relented and agreed to allow the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle until the SDC, but under very strict conditions. You would be receiving Vil and Rook’s share of the prize money if they won. You were not to be disturbed under any circumstances by the members of the NRC Tribe, and they were strictly forbidden from entering your bedroom. Groceries would be provided for the duration of the training camp. You also made it clear that you would not be responsible for any shenanigans that Grim pulled off during their stay, so not to even bother pestering you about it. And lastly, you would not be attending the SDC.

It was a difficult decision for you to make, but you realised that with Vil hounding you about allowing the NRC Tribe to stay, you were perhaps interacting with Vil way more than you potentially would during book five’s story path. A foul thought crossed your mind, Vil overblotting because negotiating with you had eaten into his preparation time for the SDC. At least with these conditions, you effectively minimised your role in book five to pretty much nothing, and if book five’s story decided to run its course like normal, then it was nothing to do with you.

Vil had stared at you with a knowing look when you first came to him telling him that you would agree for the training camp to go ahead, but his face slowly fell into a judging frown once you got to the end of your conditions.

“You don’t want to see your friends perform at the SDC? You do realise this is one of the biggest events of the school calendar? There might not ever be another opportunity for you to witness such a spectacle, let alone one that your friends are performing in. Not to mention… They’ve been working so hard.” Vil questions you, his tone almost scolding, and his eyes wrought with curiosity as to why you’d be so callous to the two who you’d known the longest since arriving here.

You kept your expression indifferent, giving an excuse that loud spectacles weren’t your thing. You did feel bad that you would miss Ace and Deuce’s big moment, but there was no way you could allow yourself to get dragged into a potential overblot situation again.

Of course, all of that felt meaningless now, considering that they weren’t even complying with the conditions that you had set out.

You could vaguely hear Ace complaining to Deuce about having to be up so early despite Vil technically giving them the morning off, whatever that meant. You hoped that the voices would eventually die down and you could get a couple hours more sleep, but the banging, thumping and voices went on and on. You even attempted to pass sometime by playing around on some mobile games that you had downloaded, a guilty pleasure that was a temptation too hard to resist when Crowley gave you the phone. But the noise never abated, and with a disgruntled sigh you got out of bed and decided to get ready for the day.

It felt weird being on campus so early in the morning on the weekend. It was mostly empty, which you assumed had to do with most students forgoing breakfast to sleep in, although there were a few early risers milling around campus. Some were heading towards the gates, likely heading out to town, whilst others made their way to the many other facilities that Night Raven had to offer. You yourself had decided to visit the mystery shop on a whim, thinking you could pick up a snack or two for during your breaks at the library.

You were walking up the path towards the shop when some… Large boxes came floating out the door… You stopped in your tracks, blinking several times. Were you that tired that you were seeing things now?

“Sorry Prefect, I don’t want to accidentally bump you!” Said a chipper voice coming from behind the boxes, startling you and making you hop out of the way. Behind the boxes was one Ortho Shroud, and suddenly the floating made sense. Not so much the boxes, though.

“Ah, my brother got a little caught up yesterday and forgot to do his usual food order, so I came to the mystery shop to pick up a few supplies to tide us over!” Ortho told you as he saw you eyeing up the boxes in his arms in confusion. He floated towards you where you stood off the path, and gently placed the boxes down, and they were nearly as tall as you were! Just a few supplies?!

“What are you playing?” Ortho asked enthusiastically, and you belatedly realised that you had one of the mobile games you had downloaded open on your phone, and muscle memory made you want to close it down immediately, but Ortho’s big, excited eyes made you feel too guilty to do so.

“Oh, uh… It’s just a game I downloaded, I don’t know much about it…” You fielded awkwardly, hoping to brush the topic away but Ortho only floated closer to get a better look at the screen.

“My brother plays that one too!!” Ortho gushes with glee, the sudden burst of elation catching you a little off guard. Really? This didn’t seem like Idia’s type of game… You swear you vaguely remember him saying he wasn’t that into dating sims… Although, you did suppose this one wasn’t a conventional dating simulator at the very least.

“But what happened to your screen?” Ortho asked, ripping you out of your thoughts, his head tilting to the side curiously. Now that did make you lock your phone to attempt to hide your shamefully cracked phone screen. Kalim, that’s what happened, you thought dryly. “Oh it’s nothing,” you said quickly, “I just had a small accident with it. It still works just fine!”

“Let’s get my brother to fix it!”

Oh no.

Ortho was beaming at you, eyes sparkling at the idea. You could feel your heart sinking.

“Oh no, no. I wouldn’t want to bother him! It’s totally fine, I promise!” You said hurriedly, hoping to derail the idea and make a quick escape, but it seemed like the idea had already firmly taken root in Ortho’s brain.

“It wouldn’t be a bother! My brother is really good with machines, he’ll get it fixed in no time! Plus, you two can talk about that game together! I’m sure he’d love to know there was someone else on campus who likes the same game as him!” Ortho encouraged.

Ah. So that was what this was about.

Book six had Ortho really encouraging Idia to share his gaming interests with the other students at Night Raven. Considering that the Ignihyde chapter was the next in line after book five, it did make sense that Ortho was taking this coincidence and running with it, considering you had just made it a thousand times easier for him to do so by just happening to like the same game as his beloved brother.

… But how were you supposed to say no to those eyes?! How were humanoids allowed to have such heart wrenching eyes?! It wasn’t fair.

You chewed on your bottom lip in indecision. It would be useful to get your phone screen fixed, even to stop Vil’s sassy barbs that he kept firing at you whenever he caught sight of it (something something “your belongings are a reflection of you” something something, blah blah). And this was Idia you were talking about here. He would probably freak out as soon as Ortho brought you to his room, fix the phone as quickly as possible and kick you out. Win, win?

“Okay, sure.” You relented, watching as Ortho lit up even more at your positive response. You swear you saw his hair get brighter. “But I can’t stay for long, I have other things planned for today.” You stated firmly, giving yourself an escape plan if needed. Ortho still seemed delighted regardless, moving once again to pick up those ridiculously large boxes he had been carrying. You followed suit, picking up the box from the top of the pile, much to Ortho’s surprise.

“It’s okay, I can carry them!” Ortho assured, but you shook your head, adjusting your grip on the box. It was a little heavy, but nothing you couldn’t handle. “Nah, I can’t let you carry them all by yourself. Besides, this is the least I can do if you’re going to fix my phone for me.” You remarked casually, beginning to walk with Ortho towards the Hall of Mirrors.

“You’re very kind, Prefect.” Ortho hummed, seeming quite taken with your courteous gesture.

The walk to the Hall of Mirrors from the mystery shop wasn’t long, and as you stepped through the Ignihyde mirror, you realised that you’ve never actually really seen the inside of the Ignihyde dorm. Sure, the game lets you buy Ignihyde backgrounds such as the entrance and the lounge, and you can get Idia’s dorm room as a background on his birthday, but other than that, the Ignihyde dorm has largely been a mystery compared to the other dorms. You had no idea what to expect.

It was… Very white. And shiny. Kinda made you wish you had brought a pair of sunglasses. The hallways were deserted, and you felt like you stood out like a sore thumb. You suddenly started to feel uneasy about the whole thing.

You followed closely behind Ortho as he led you to Idia’s dorm room, not trusting yourself not to get lost. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, even with the boxes he was carrying partially obscuring his view.

“Ortho, are you sure this is okay?” You asked, unable to hide the unease in your voice. Ortho didn’t stop, continuing to float along the hallways and making turns where necessary. “Don’t worry, Prefect! It’ll be fun! We’re almost there!” He insisted, and you very much felt that you and Idia were about to be in for a very unfun time. Ortho suddenly turned and opened a door that you would have missed if it wasn’t for him, as it blended into the wall so well.

“Idia, I’m back!” Ortho announced, floating in nonchalantly. You followed awkwardly, managing to bump the door closed behind you and place the box you were carrying on top of the other ones that Ortho had left by the wardrobe.

You took a moment to glance around the room. It wasn’t… As messy as you thought it would be. Wow, the background you can buy in the game really doesn’t do it any justice. That or Ortho cleaned up.

“Ah Ortho! Come check this out! I finally beat the final boss in that boss rush and got some cool new— Gah!!”

Idia had swivelled in his chair to look at Ortho but saw you instead and almost tumbled straight out of it with the way he flinched backwards, face morphing into terror. You gave him a small smile and waved awkwardly, but that only seemed to make it worse.

“I invited someone over!” Ortho stated cheerfully as Idia ducked behind the high back of his chair to avoid being seen. Rather fruitlessly too, considering you could still see his characteristic flaming hair.

“I-I can see that, Ortho! W-w-why did you invite an extrovert into my room?!” Idia complained, trying to keep his voice low but not really succeeding. The interaction was so odd to watch that you wondered if you should leave but settled for looking away instead. Ortho didn’t seem bothered at all, smiling at Idia like nothing was wrong.

“This is the Prefect from Ramshackle! I ran into them at the mystery shop, and they helped me carry our shopping back! Wasn’t that kind of them?” Ortho rambled on, floating over to his brother. Idia seemed to pluck up the courage to peek over his chair to get a better look at you, prompted by Ortho’s words, but when you looked back towards him, he shot back down in his chair, the ends of his wispy hair turning bright pink.

Wait, was he blushing?

“B-but Ortho…” Idia stammered out, but it seemed that Ortho had no mercy for him today.

“The Prefect’s phone screen is broken, and I told them that you could help fix it!” Ortho piped up over Idia’s stammering, his smile taking no prisoners, “you can help them, right Idia? Something so simple won’t even take you ten minutes.” Ortho encouraged, beaming smile still on his face.

Talking tech seemed to kick Idia out of his fluster somewhat, and you could hear Idia’s back thump against his chair as he opened one of his desk drawers and started rifling through it. “Tch, typical normies with no protection on their device, then crying when it gets bodied. So noob coded…” Idia muttered under his breath like he’d forgotten you were right there as he finally found what he was looking for, pulling the kit he was looking for out of his drawer and placing it on his desk.

Ouch.

He pushed his keyboard back, assumedly making space to him to work. “Gimme. The quicker I fix it, the quicker they leave, right?”

“Prefect isn’t a normie! They play the same game as you!” Ortho retorted and you cringed, as you sincerely hoped that wouldn’t get brought up into conversation before you could leave. But apparently, Ortho had taken it upon himself to defend your honour from his brother. Lucky you.

“Show him, Prefect!” Ortho compelled you, and you would almost find it funny how he was basically strong-arming Idia to have an interaction if it didn’t involve you. You sighed internally, powerless to Ortho’s big eyes, and walked slowly towards Idia’s desk, loading the game up on your phone. You held it up, arm outstretched so you didn’t get too close and give the guy a heart attack.

“It’s this one. I don’t play much, but this is the game I play the most. I at least make sure to login every day to get the bonuses and stuff…” You mumbled awkwardly, not actually understanding why you felt so awkward either. It wasn’t like it was a big deal. But suddenly your phone was snatched from your hand, and you were startled to see that Idia had grabbed it.

“You play this too?! I’m so into this at the moment. How far are you in the story? What cards do you have? Who is your favourite? Ugh, this screen totally kills the vibe. Hang on, let me just…”

You blinked in surprise as Idia rapidly fired off multiple questions about the game at you before putting your phone on his desk and hunching over as he got to work. It was like he was a completely different person. You knew it was the case that he could become very lively when he got to talk about his hobbies and interests, but seeing it happen in person was… Truly something. You looked between him and Ortho, with Ortho looking absolutely delighted about the interaction, and gesturing for you to take a seat on Idia’s bed whilst he worked.

“Oh, uh… I’m not very far in the story, I cleared the prologue but that’s about it. I don’t get the chance to play often… I don’t get many chances to roll the gatcha either, I never have any currency…” You answered. You didn’t really know any of the characters well enough to say what cards you had or who your favourite was, so you kept quiet on that.

“Sounds like you’re still in noobville. I’ll teach you how to play, but first I have to… Whee hee hee…” Idia volunteered, his voice pittering out as he got more entranced on working with your phone. The room lulled into silence, and you began conversing with Ortho instead, random giggles and mumbles from Idia in the background as you and Ortho chatted. Midway through one of your conversations with Ortho you noticed that Idia had been working on your phone for way longer than ten minutes. Now, you had no idea how long it took to replace a phone screen, you were no engineer. You also factored in that Ortho could have just been bigging up his brother’s ego when he said it would only take him ten minutes, but did it really take that long to fix? It felt like you had been in here way over an hour…

Ortho was projecting some clips of his favourite video games when Idia finally swivelled around, brandishing your phone with a manic grin.

“The freshly refurbished Prefect Custom Gamer Deluxe! I replaced the screen and reinforced it so it won’t break again but still has high grade touch screen sensitivity. I upgraded the battery to a larger capacity model so that you can game for longer, and of course a 2TB memory card. The original memory was awful, where did you get it? Sam’s bargain basket? Kek.” Idia gushed about your newly juiced mobile, fully in his element, “I didn’t know what your preferred colours are, so I didn’t add any custom lights. Blue’s good, though.” He commented, and that is when he finally caught you blinking at him, staring rather blankly.

“… Did you get any of that? Sigh, noobs OTL…”

You didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you quickly snapped yourself out of vacant stare and quickly spoke, “I think so… It means I won’t have to delete anything to update my games anymore, right?”

That seemed to be enough, because he was smiling that startingly sharp toothed grin again. “Exactly.”

The room fell into silence again, with Idia seeming to realise that he’d burst out into a rave about his interests. He held out your phone towards you awkwardly for you to take, and you stepped forward quickly to take it, but Ortho was faster.

“Show the Prefect your cards on the game you both play!” Ortho insisted cheerfully but forcefully, clearly not willing to let this interaction between you and Idia ends just yet. You don’t know if it was because it was a game, or because he had been suitably warmed up from the tech talk, or Ortho’s wide, eager eyes. Maybe even a combination of all three, but either way, Idia agreed.

“So… Uh… Did you hear all the aggro online about what’s happened?” Idia muttered as he waited for his game to boot up. It booted up a lot faster than yours usually did. Is that what he did to your phone? If so, you weren’t going to complain.

 “Can’t say I have…” You answered honestly, and Idia scoffed lightly under his breath. “Oh right. I forgot you’re a casual.”

Why did it sting when he said it like that?!

Idia spent some time giving you some tips on free ways to get in game currency so you could roll on the gatcha more, and even recommended some social media accounts you could follow to get information on future events so that you could plan your resources and gatcha rolling accordingly. It was… Pretty helpful, actually. It was oddly nice to just chat innocently about a hobby for once, instead of constantly having to have your guard up in case someone tried to screw you over.

Idia made you boot up the game on your own phone (which you were pleasantly surprised to notice loaded up just as quickly as his own) and took a look through your card collection. He wasn’t impressed (“do you even statgrind?”) but gave you some advice regardless on who your best cards were and the more effective way to power them up, so you didn’t get locked out of the story when you progressed.

“Now show them your cards, Idia!” Ortho suggested yet again. You hadn’t missed his thrilled expression as you and Idia had been chatting, realising that he was likely delighted that Idia was talking to someone in person for once. But he was being awfully pushy about Idia showing you his card collection, even when the conversation didn’t need to be facilitated by him…

The tips of Idia’s hair went bright pink yet again, and you couldn’t resist raising a brow. What was he so embarrassed about? They were just cards, right? Idia tucked his chin in, turning his screen away suddenly. “I-I-I don’t know, my collection is pretty a-average…”

“No way! You have so many cards, show them!” Ortho tugged on Idia’s arm, with Idia trying to hide his phone in his lap, “or I’ll just project your cards for the Prefect to see!”

Idia sat up straight, looking very panicked at Ortho’s oddly specific threat. “O-okay, okay! Let me just…” He tapped away at his phone, and you had no idea what he was doing, but eventually he turned the screen back to you, showing you his card collection in all its glory.

Wow. He had tons of SSR cards. Even some UR cards… By the look of it, he seemed to only go for the ultra-rare cards of the same characters, so they must be his favourites. You looked at his card collection, nodding appreciatively and making a comment here and there, but otherwise you didn’t really have much to say. Idia’s hair was still tinged pink, and even his cheeks had an awkward half blush for reasons that escaped you.

Out the corner of your eye you saw Ortho staring at you rather insistently, as if he was urging you to keep the conversation going. Just why were you allowing yourself to be exhorted by this kid? Clearly, Ortho Shroud’s powers of compulsion know no bounds.

“Who is your favourite character?” You blurted out, hoping that would satisfy. To your surprise, Idia’s hair burned brighter, the pink flaring up at your question.

“O-oh, um… I-i… I can’t show you, because of… You know, all that aggro online…” Idia mumbled under his breath, looking down at his lap. What was up with him?

Either way, now your curiosity had been piqued.

“Tell me about the drama.” You asked, although you supposed it came out sounding more like a demand. Idia looked up at you suddenly, staring at you for a long moment, “… a-are you sure? It’s pretty long…” He mumbled, and you nodded anyway. Perhaps this would finally satisfy Ortho and then you could make your exit.

Idia’s demeanour entirely changed again, his elbows landing on his knees and he leaned towards you, his hands caging his phone. “This has been big news in the community. Like, God tier discourse. Everyone has come together to try to figure out what is going on, scrubs and tryhards alike. People have been mining the data files, I’ve tried hacking the serv—”

“Wait, wait, wait!” You stopped him, waving your hands to get him to slow down, “tell me what happened before you talk fandom dramatics.” Idia rolls his eyes but acquests.

“So a couple of months ago, something happened to the game. I’m not talking a limited time event or anything like that. I’m talking one day, every logged in for the next daily login period, and a character was missing.” Idia informed you, and you raised your eyebrows at this.

“Like, gone?” You questioned, and Idia nodded, frantically enough that his wispy hair bounced a little. You scratched your cheek, finding yourself slightly intrigued in this despite just doing it to get Ortho off your back. “I don’t think I follow what you mean…” You admitted, almost a little sheepishly, “how can a character just be gone? Wouldn’t you still have their cards?”

Idia, to his credit, didn’t seem to be bothered by you not following, only nodding along eagerly with your train of thought. “Right? But that is where it gets even weirder…” Idia begins to tap at his phone again, changing the filters on his card collection before turning the screen back towards you again, “because the cards are still there, but the character is missing.”

The sight was eerie, almost ominous. You deduced this character must be one of Idia’s favourites, considering how many cards he had, all maxed out. It made sense why he was so invested. But the cards themselves, they were…

Empty.

The cards were still there, in his collection. The background of the cards was still visible, even the other characters that appeared in the art were still there. But the character the card belonged to? Gone. Just an odd, inky smudge left in their place.

“That’s…” You couldn’t finish your thought, finding yourself at a loss for words at the bizarre, oddly chilling sight.

“Right?!” Idia hissed, really getting into the conversation now.

“Surely it must be some sort of event, right? Something to do with the story?” You tried to reason, and Idia shook his head wildly.

“That’s what we all thought, at first! Maybe they were springing some big event on us that none of the info trading accounts had managed to dig up. Sure it was a bit early for a Halloween event, GG developers, but it wasn’t like that hasn’t happened before.” You nodded along to Idia’s logic, this was exactly what you had assumed. The creepy feel of the cards definitely gave a Halloween vibe.

“But the official game pages never posted anything about it. And they weren’t responding to comments or messages about it either. So, we started to wonder if it was an update gone wrong, or a bug, and the devs were going to patch it. But still, we heard nothing from any official channels.”

You were staring at Idia, transfixed by this odd phenomenon. You’d never had anything of the sort happen in any of the games you had ever played, that’s for sure.

Idia’s cheeks flared a little pinker as he continued, “I-i have every one of that character’s cards, so I was able to check that it wasn’t just one card that had the issue, it was all of them. Other players reported the same issues, so that’s how we knew it was a game wide issue. The devs finally issued a statement, some vague BS about how they would be troubleshooting some issues with the game but not exactly what they were trying to fix. I personally think the devs have no clue what’s going on. Which is stupid, who doesn’t know what’s happening with their own software? Is it amateur hour over in that studio…” Idia finished, starting to mutter under his breath.

You mulled all this information over. Wow, clearly fandom drama in Twisted Wonderland was way more over the top than in your world.

“That’s really… Wow.” You hummed, which you thought summed up the situation quite well. You were pondering over it, eyes back on your own phone as you opened your card collection back up. You guessed you hadn’t noticed because you hadn’t rolled any of that specific character’s cards in the gatcha. You were kind of grateful, actually. It probably would have given you a fright.

“Uh…” You heard Idia hum, and you looked up at him, seeing him watching you with an apprehensive expression, “I have something to show you, if you want to… See… But you might find it weird…” He said slowly, his posture more hunched than before.

“Oh, okay?” You nodded, waiting for him to continue. You wondered if you were making him uncomfortable and had overstayed your welcome, considering Idia was starting to become more withdrawn again. His social battery was probably starting to go flat. You’d leave after this, you decided. Maybe quicker, if he was going to show you something really weird.

“The character is gone from the game’s cards, but they still appear in promotional materials that were posted online. Do you… Want to see?” Idia asked hesitantly, and whilst you found the way he asked the question a little odd, you had no reason to decline.

“Sure, why not? I feel like I’m invested now.” You smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back, only turned his gaze to Ortho. “Ortho, can you project the promotional art?”

“Easy! Searching promotional art… Loading… And, done!”

… … …

You felt your blood run cold instantly and you couldn’t stop the look of petrified horror that froze upon your face.

Projected onto the muted walls of Idia’s bedroom, in crystal clear clarity, was the promotional art of the character that Idia had been telling you about, just as he had asked Ortho to do. There was no inky smudge replacing their appearance, and they were posed rather dramatically, the norm for promo art. But something about it had your heart stopping in your chest and your hands trembling in your lap…

The promotional art…

The promotional art looked exactly like you.

[ask-cracked-dome-lab]

🌀

Once all the work here is done, it's quite boring...

//Looking for anons, please.

[kinardsevan]

headcanoning that whenever Evan and Tommy start bickering over something stupid (like leaving the cap off the toothpaste, or someone leaving socks in the middle of the floor), Tommy just pulls out fake mouth static. The first time he does it, it catches Evan so off guard that he starts laughing, and any time after that, when he does, it always breaks up the tension.

After a particularly rough fight (Evan got hurt at work, unecessarily in Tommy's opinion), Evan pulls it out on Tommy. And as much as Tommy wants to keep driving his point home, he knows Evan is actually hearing him. Maybe he even pulls it out a few weeks later in reverse when he gets hurt during a fire and ends up with minor burns.

But somewhere in the mix of it all, fake mouth static becomes 'I love you'. To the point that when Tommy says it to him for the first time, he just mimics fake mouth static at Evan one morning over coffee. Evan is barely half-awake, still letting the caffeine wake his grouchy soul, and doesn't really make out what Tommy is doing. The ADD in his brain doesn't process it for couple of hours until he's fully awake. At that point, they're at Bobby's for a party. Evan is hanging out with Chim and Hen, and they're telling May about the flight into the hurricane while Bobby, Eddie, and Tommy are over by the grill having a very serious discussion about proper searing. Chim gets to the part about fake mouth static, and it suddenly dawns on Evan.

And of course, he can't just wait then. He walks out on the conversation, over to Tommy, and drags him inside, backs him up against a counter.

"What did you say this morning," he asks, fingers curled into Tommy's belt loops to keep him close. "Over coffee?"

Tommy leans into him, whispers fake mouth static into his ear.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Evan replies, and he leans back so he can see Tommy's face.

And then Tommy's eyes are on his lips, not necessarily because he wants to kiss him, but because he's nervous. And then he looks up at Evan, manages to find the confidence to look him in the eyes, and tells him directly.

"I said I love you."

And of course it makes Evan blush, because he feels the same way, but its the first time they've said it, and he's never really been in love with someone the way he is with Tommy. So he just wraps his arms around Tommy's waist and pulls him closer, says, "I *fake mouth static* you too," before kissing him.

And then of course, post-kiss, when they're hugging it out, nuzzling each other, Evan actually says it, love included. But any time after that, when it's just the two of them having a moment, needing to connect in the chaos, etc., it's always fake mouth static.

[dilfl0v3rss]

dad!connie making his kids speak spanish (it just popped up in my head idk😭)

“pop can i get five dollars f’lunch?” the back of your eight year old son, carlos’, head was instantly tapped (lightly) with a roll of newspaper as connie stood next to you in the kitchen while you cooked. “en español, hijo, o no obtienes nada.” your son wasted no time , rolling his eyes as he rubbed the all over his head. he definitely got his attitude from you. “owww papá. ¿puedo tener 5 dólares?” you giggled as you watched your husband dig through both of his sweatpants pockets for the cash, looking at the ceiling with his tongue poking his cheek while he searched. when he finally pulled out the bill he held it to his chest, keeping it from your sons reach. “dónde están tus modales?” carlos sighed, rolling his eyes once again before saying what his father wanted to hear. “ay dios mío…por favor”. he mumbled.

“que?”

“por favor, papá, tengo que irme.”

“aight good enough” connie says before tossing his son a twenty dollar bill. “desayuna en el camino, ya que te despertaste tarde. te quiero. que tengas un buen día, chico.” you weren’t fluent in spanish, but you understood a little of what your husband said, signaling you to join in. “i love you baby stay outta trouble.” the two of you watched your son walk to the door. “love you both. see ya.” you listened to carlos’ friends call for him to hurry up so they can walk to the bus stop together before he closed the door. connie’s arms wrapped around your waist as you flipped the heart shaped pancakes in the pan. “mi amor-” before he could even finish his sentence, you put the spatula up in his face. “go wake your daughter up. she has preschool to be at in an hour and a half.”

now it was time for connie to have an attitude. “mi corazón whyyyy. i hate when she’s all fussy in the morning. let’s give her another thirty minutes, yea?” your daughter, amayah, may only be four but she slept like an old man. you believed she can sleep through a hurricane, but god forbid she’s woken up when she doesn’t want to be. she’ll be crying all around the house for hours, and that is something your husband hated to see. he never wanted his baby crying. “she needs to be up now papi we talked about this. it already take too long to do her hair since she’s so tender headed, and i can’t afford you bringing her there late.” connie knew you were right, so without another word he made his way upstairs to his daughters room.

he cracked the door open and was delighted to see her already up, bonnet on the floor as she scratched at her head while sitting upright in the bed. “g’morning daddy. is mommy making pancakes?” connie adored her. she was the spitting image of you. same nose, same eyes, same everything. she was his little princess. “good morning mi vida. yea mommy’s making your favorites.” amayah slides out of bed, little nightgown swaying at her knees as she put her bunny slippers on. by the time you finished up breakfast the two of them were sat at the table, ready to devour the food you made. if there was one thing your kids got from their father, it was their big appetites. the three of them ate any and everything in site.

connie and amayah, of course, finished their breakfast first. going back up to her room to get her dressed while you watched your show on the couch. “you want the pink or the green one princesa?” connie asked as he held the different color dresses in his hand. “i wanna wear the greeeen daddy. and i want mommy to put a white bow in my hair.” amayah grabbed for the green dress, but was met with nothing but air as she watched connie pull it out of her reach. here he goes again. “español, por favor, princesa.” your daughter didn’t mind though. she actually loved conversing in spanish since it was something her father’s side of the family did often. she smiled as she replied to her father. “p-puedo ponerme el v-vestido verde hoy, papá, por favor? y, puedes ponerme un lazo blanco en el pelo?”

connie smiled as he handed his daughter her desired choice. “buen trabajo. papá está impresionado.” amayah smiled, giving connie a small thank you before letting him help her get dressed. when the two of them finally came downstairs, you seen that not only did connie dress her, but he made sure to comb and style her hair as well. it was in a nice bun with a white bow pinned at the front of it. “myah you look beautiful baby. give momma a kiss before you go.” you watched your daughter let go of connie’s fingers before skipping her way over to you before giving you a tight hug and kissing you on the cheek. “bye mommy. see you laterrr.” she said. connie, being the big baby he is, couldn’t resist feeling a little jealous.

“papa want a kiss too mommy” he says with a fake sad voice as he made his way in front of the couch. you rolled your eyes before giving your husband a small peck on the lips. which he clearly wasn’t satisfied with since he decided it’d be okay to grab your face and start kissing you as he would when y’all would be in the bedroom. as the two of you pulled away from each other you looked towards amayah who had a disgusted look on her face. “ewwww!!”

the both of you laughed as you lightly pushed connie off of you. “see what you did. get outta here ‘for you traumatize our daughter further.” connie sucked his teeth, getting up from where he was leaning to join hands with his daughter again. “let’s go princess. daddy don’t want you to be late.” and with that he and your daughter went to the front door. you watch him mouth a, “this isn’t over”, to you with squinted eyes before leaving the house. you rolled your eyes as you turned back towards the tv to finish watching your show. “i bet it isn’t” you sighed as you made your self comfortable on your spacious couch.

[swordoffrivolousthings]

The gods in PJO are not godly enough, in my opinion

I will start this rant by saying that this is only one of my problems with the PJO series. I understand why Riordan has humanized them, I know this is a middle school age book series. But I am older and I want to make them freaky and strange and kind of eldritch. With little to no explanation as for my choices.

ZEUS. He is the Olympian king of the gods, god of the sky, weather, law and order, destiny and fate and kingship. He is the law, as any king is. Every word he says is godly law, every little order will be followed. He is the king. So, he is stone-faced, made of marble, with no expression other than thoughtfulness and severeness (even if he sometimes isn't). His eyes are pure lightning, the hurricanes that ravage the world and the gentlest of summer rains. Most days, when he speaks of future events, they tend to happen that way, if not overruled by a higher power. His very presence is the ozone layer being brought down, heavy, tiring mortals and demigods out quickly. He treads lightly, with steps like gentle patters of rain, but his every breath is thunder.

HERA. The goddess of marriage, women, the sky and the stars of heaven, and the Olympian queen of the gods. Marriage, despite her own being something less than aspiring, is sacred. Couples that marry are under her protection, she still blesses their marriages. She sky shifts with her emotions, getting darker and night starting to fall. Her himation worn over her head, the only garment visible, reflecting the sky above. Her eyes, two bright stars, seeing something more than human perception can begin to understand.

POSEIDON. Olympian god of the sea, earthquakes, floods, drought and horses. His body is not, just from the corner of the eye, made of muscle, bones and tendons. Water, swirling and moving in the shape of a man, the odd strand of algae. Then you turn and he is barely human, but not saltwater. The waves seek and tug at his heels whenever he walks along the beach. His eyes, oceanic tectonic plates crashing, sending tsunamis to devastate the world. The air around him is salty, sea air clinging to his skin. Algae appear in his wake, reeking of the sea.

DEMETER. Olympian goddess of agriculture, grain and bread who sustained mankind with the earth's rich bounty. In her wake, every step makes a grain sprout, growing tall and healthy, and nothing can take it down. The seasons are slowly blooming and booming in her presence, the spring more verdant, the summer hotter, autumn plentiful beyond measure and winter always frigid. From behind her ears sprout oats and barley, always young and vibrant green, crowning her in the coming bounty. Her eyes are the colour of wheat, and when the wind blows the shadows in her eyes move with it.

ARES. Olympian god of war, battlelust, courage and civil order. He is war, bloody and cruel, senseless, personified. His very presence makes fights break out, indignities and betrayals happen. He is an oppressive force that bring the bravery out of the people, along with all the hate. If he stays long enough in one place, even Olympus, war breaks out, be it civil or not. This is why he never stays in one place too long. He is luting for blood, but war had wearied him. He will not do the same mistake twice, even in war. His eyes are the open wounds of soldiers, bleeding, infected, dying skin and rotting meat.

ATHENA. Olympian goddess of wisdom and good counsel, war, the defence of towns, heroic endeavour, weaving, pottery and various other crafts. Every tapestry and pot and garment worked by hand that is not up to her godly standard shrivels and turns to ash in her presence, obliterated by her beyond-human perfectioned craft. Towns are instantly protected when she is there, good grace and godly favour. War, like Ares, follows her. It is not kinder, nor is it bearable. Calculated, cold, some would argue that her wars are crueler, sadistic. Eyes like garment fiber and shattered pots, blood covering them.

APOLLO. Olympian god of prophecy and oracles, music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young. The sun, a power passed on, burns under his skin. It is the worst in the summer months, when the sun is more preeminent. His music, lighting every room in shades of enticement, is otherworldly, his voice, be it in song or word, is a mastery of perfection. From his hands, a single touch can be salvation or sickness. His arrows, silver for his twin, always strike true, no matter the target. His presence brings prophecies and fates to light. The power of the sun is in his eyes.

ARTEMIS. Olympian goddess of hunting, the wilderness and wild animals. She was also a goddess of childbirth, and the protectress of the girl child up to the age of marriage. Around her sprout forests, wild and untainted, a world where humans could get lost in and never be found again. Wild animals prowl after her, protectors and friends of her hunters. When the night is darkest, a power inherited, her skin lights up, a moon to shine in the dark of the shadows. Her hunters, her girls, are protected and her wrath is painful and cruel, like her domains, and they are recognisable by their golden arrows.

HEPHAESTUS. Olympian god of fire, smiths, craftsmen, metalworking, stonemasonry and sculpture. Beneath his skin flames are visible, a moving part of him, like tattoos. Every piece of metal he works with, no matter how briefly, turns into beatiful and powerful tools, an art all of their own. His buildings are steady and everlasting, the stone protected by his touch. His eyes, the hammer hitting metal, are coloured in such a way that they resemble statue's eyes.

APHRODITE. Olympian goddess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation. Born of sea foam and godly blood, the salt clings to her. Curls her hair and makes her glow, the power of the sea just under her perfect skin. Everyone finds something beautiful in the face of beauty. It is enchanting, a spell most can hardly exist. She is everything everyone could ever want, a goddess for everyone's taste. Yet her anger is born of the sea, a cruel and unforgiving sort of death. To make love dislike you is to lose it all in the blink of an eye. To disrespect a goddess means death.

HERMES. Olympian god of herds and flocks, travellers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy, language and writing, athletic contests and gymnasiums, astronomy and astrology. He speaks in languages long lost, and his travel notes are written in queer glyphs and writing systems. Sheep like him, without doubt. The souls of humans clash and itch to follow him when he enters a room, beyond willing to be taken to the underworld. The stars illuminate his path, a road he knows by heart but they don't care. They will guide him, no matter what.

DIONYSUS. Olympian god of wine, vegetation, pleasure, festivity, madness and wild frenzy. Vines grow from his footsteps, water and seawater and nectar and any other drink turn to wine in his hand. Where he is, the frenzied, happy and drunk follow, a retinue of people that enjoy and enjoy and enjoy. There is nothing not to like at first glance, and only at first glance. When one looks closer, the insanity begins. It is like sparks in his eyes, a nonsensical word past his lips. When you look closer at the people, there is no happiness in the thaws of madness.

HESTIA. The virgin goddess of the hearth and the home. It does not make her kind, because the gods rarely are. It makes her steady, the fire in the home that keeps the chill away from making itself at home. The fire that lights the way back home, sacred in temples and to extinguish it is to forsake her favour. Homes she has blessed are cozy, full of love, of safety. It does not make them fireproof.

HADES. The king of the underworld and god of the dead. He, king over bones and lost memories. His wife, unnamable, his presence like the heavy hand of time on mortal shoulders. Bones and skulls and the wispy whisper of the lost are his retinue. Half decomposed corpses his servants and valets and butlers. His name, scorned, is never said but on the eve of the winter solstice, when death is the surest companion. His eyes, dark but brittle as bone, promise something any other god can't understand.

PERSEPHONE. Goddess queen of the underworld, wife of the god Hades. She was also the goddess of spring growth. Her presence brings with it the smell of the first flowers of spring, little by little making the world greener. But her steps are always silent, always just a little far from the ground. She is a queen, death is her and her husband's domain. Of course she is ghostly, terrifying. Her perfume is of freshly dug earth and autumnal rain, the weeps of widows and widowers, the death of the young and elderly. Her name is unspoken, a curse when invoked. You will not hear her name on Olympus, in mortal mouths. Kore, Despoena, her titles are safe. Her eye is not benevolent, when it's attention is captured.

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) to think deeply about something

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

All rights reserved to their original publishers.

Now playing: Long Way From Home by The Lumineers

Chapter One: Forks, Washington

     Moving from Jacksonville, Florida, to the rainiest place in the continental U.S. wasn't an easy adjustment.

     Seeing your sister act like the walking dead was even more trying.

     All of it was because of that boy, who left her when things got hard. Mom only thought of "young love" and said "a little heartbreak builds character!"

     Phil thought Edward was an ass, but that Bella was being a little dramatic about her first heartbreak.

     Charlie and I shared a similar sentiment: Edward Cullen better not come back to Forks. If he does, I'll kill him.

     I'd get away with it, too. Charlie would shut down the investigation because he'd be glad the boy was gone and wouldn't hurt his daughter any more.

     I'd hurt him, especially but not limited to the fact that I wasn't quite sold about Bella falling down the stairs after she ran off. I don't think Edward pushed her, per se, but I don't think they told us the entire truth. Call it a gut feeling, or intuition, or whatever. I don't trust him or his family, aside from the good doctor. He's always seemed the most normal, from what I've heard.

---

     "Bella," I call, knocking on the door to her room. It was quit still, and I was waiting impatiently for her to answer. We had to go to school before we were late and got another day of detention.

     "Bella!" I shout, knocking on the door again. I hear some rustling and watch as the knob turns, only to find my sister with her pajamas on, her hair a mess, and looking like she had been through a hurricane.

     She blinked owlishly at me, almost like she was deciphering who I was.

     I sighed through my nose, trying to be sympathetic to her. I guided her to the bathroom and made her brush her teeth while I untangled her hair. In an attempt to keep it from getting ratty again, I braided it back tightly and wrapped put oils on the ends to try and keep it from frizzing up.

     "Sorry," she told me, staring blankly at the mirror. All the anger in my chest deflated, and for a second, I felt as hollowed out as she looked.

     Hollow, empty, devoid of soul.

     That's how she looked.

     Anger ignited in my chest again, but not at her. At her shitty ex-boyfriend who left her in the woods because he was a coward and couldn't break up with her properly.

     "Don't worry about it," I told Bella, "I'll get Charlie to write a note or something. I guess the driveway was extra icy this morning."

---

     The school day passed without much happening.

     Bella's friend Mike tried to get me to pass something on to her, but I couldn't hear what he said before Jessica pulled him away without a glance at me.

     I thought she was stuck up, but she wasn't a bad person.

     Lunch was subpar again, the cafeteria food being lukewarm at best and cold in the middle of the mashed potatoes.

     "I wonder if Charlie could threaten them into making the food better," I wondered aloud, poking at the food on my plate.

     Bella remained frozen in time, staring at the seat beside me as if she was waiting for someone to appear there.

     I sighed, shaking my head.

     I hummed to myself as I continued to poke and prod at my food u til the bell rang to get back to class.

---

     A few days pass.

     Nothing changes.

     Bella's still depressed and hardly living in the real world. She wakes up screaming from night terrors and Charlie's started to sleep in the couch so he doesn't have to get up from his bed anymore.

     I've started to develop insomnia, I think.

     I don't sleep until the early hours of the morning, since that's usually when Bella stays asleep, too.

     I'm awake from six thirty in the morning until two in the morning.

     My routine consists of waking up, getting dressed and ready for school, then getting Bella up and dressing her. It's about forty minutes allotted to each of us, and then an extra ten to get Bella's lunch ready and packed.

     I go to school with her, go about my monotonous but peaceful day, eat a silent lunch with my sister, finish my day, and go back home.

     When I'm home, I work on anything I didn't finish already. Sometimes I go in for work at the 24/7 diner at the corner of Wheatgrass and 74th, working the night shifts and getting home in time for Bella to stay asleep. I make my lunch from the food I got to take home from the Roy's Diner, I take a scalding hot shower, and I pass out for the four hours before I have to wake up again.

---

     Angela asked me how Bella was.

     She seemed like the only one that truly cared about my sister.

     Jessica was sour because she was ignored. Mike only wanted in her pants and was stringing Jessica along. And Eric was nice, but really only cared about the news paper and Angela.

     "Is she getting any better?" Angela asked me, sitting down beside me at the table I was reading at.

     "Not really." I replied, looking up at her for a minute. "Charlie's about to send her back to Jacksonville."

     "Oh," Angela said, looking sad at the news. "Is there anything I can do for her? I try to invite her out, but she never shows."

     I shrugged, "Not much to do. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make her drink."

     Angela nodded, her lips thinning for a moment before she got back up.

     She patted my shoulder before she left, and I immersed myself back into my reading.

---

     Working the night shift at Roy's was never boring. We got loads of interesting people here. Charlie called the diner "a drunk's dream." Sure, it was a little sleazy and a lot of greasy food, but it wasn't horrible to be in. If you ignored the obnoxious 70s disco decor.

     A duo of two men were sat in my section, both of them looking like hell.

     "Welcome to Roy's, I’m y/n. What can I get started for you?" I asked, my peppy customer service voice grating on my own nerves so late at night.

     They both had tanned skin in shades of bronze, and long, dark hair. One had it pulled up in braids down his back, the other's hair loose.

     "A Pepsi, please," the first man said, and he looked to the other boy, "Jared, what do you want?"

     Jared ordered a strawberry milkshake.

     "Be right back!" I told them, spinning on my heel and going to get their drinks.

     "How old do you think those guys in your section are?" Chelsea asked as I filled up the drinks. She was staring at the two I had just spoken to, and I shrugged.

     "Dunno, don't really care." I said, "They look grown enough, I guess."

     "Grown enough?" She parroted, laughing, "They all have to be at least twenty!"

      Again, I just shrugged.

     "Ugh, no fun." Chelsea said, rolling her eyes and disappearing into the back to go gossip with the cooks.

     "Here are those drinks," I said, setting them down before each of the boys. "Anything to eat?"

     "I want two number twos with lettuce, tomatoes, unions, and pickles, please, and a large fry." Jared told me, and I wrote it all down quickly. Two double patty burgers and a large fry was a lot to get down, but boys had large stomachs, I guess.

     Sam spoke next, ordering, "A number three with tomatoes and lettuce only, with a number four with everything and a large fry, please."   

     Spicy chicken sandwich with everything on it and a pulled pork sandwich, I wrote, then said, "Be right back, then."

      I handled my other tables until the food was ready, and I had to ask Kass to help me carry it all. When I set the food down, in front of them, they both thanked me and started eating. I grabbed their cups to refill their drinks, and when I was back to the table, most of their food was already gone.

     "You two sure can put food away, wow," I said, setting the drinks down again. Jared had ordered another milkshake, and a water. Sam still got the Pepsi.

     Sam smiled, looking weary but better. Color had returned to his face, and his eyes looked brighter.

     "We're growing boys," Jared joked, and I smiled.

     When they left, after ordering a slice of pie, I got a nice tip and a doodled wolf on the check.

---

     Bella went out with Jessica to see a movie, I think. I wasn't paying a lot of attention when she said it, I had a mountain of homework from physics and not nearly enough time to do all of it.

     Charlie found Bella's wallet and told me to go give it to her, so I went to Port Angeles to find her.

     I saw Jessica first, and she was watching in mute horror as Bella spoke to some strange man on a motorcycle.

     "Bella!" I yelled, people glancing my way as I stormed up to her to snag her by her arm and drag her away.

     For a moment, she looked hopeful, like she was expecting to see someone else.

     "Oh my god, you're stupid!" I yelled, dragging her back to my car. "Do you not think about anything anymore? He could have kidnapped you! He could have done worse!"

     "I just-" she caught herself, flinching, "I thought I knew him."

     "Good lord," I said, swearing at her for her recklessness, "I thought Charlie would have told you about stranger danger, but I guess not! Maybe it's time for a refresh!"

     Jessica trailed behind us as I berated Bella and lectured her over the dangers of strangers and dark alleyways and motorcycles.

     I folded my sister into the passenger seat of my car, ordering Jessica in the back seat.

     "But, uh, what about Bella's car..?" Jessica asked, staring at me.

      "I'll get it tomorrow. I don't trust Bella not to do something else stupid with it now." I huffed, reaching over to buckle Bella's seatbelt and peeling out of the parking lot.

     I dropped Jessica home safely and pulled into the driveway, marching back inside.

     "Your daughter has lost all her sense!" I told Charlie, "Dad, you need to tell her about stranger danger again before she gets herself kidnapped!"

     "Y/n, now wait a minute-" he started, glancing at the door as my sister came stalking in behind me.

     "Bella, you wanna tell me what your sister is talking about?" Charlie asked, and I huffed as she just sighed.

     She explained and got a stern talking to, but I wasn't satisfied.

     I started going everywhere with her, after that.

     When we weren't in classes, I was attached to her hip. Hell, I even started sleeping in her room with her.

     She still kicks.

     But the nightmares become less frequent when we have sleepovers every night.

     I make her take care of herself by doing it for her, forcing her to brush her teeth and wash her face as I do her hair in the mornings and at night, packing a healthy lunch for her, and forcing her to keep up with her studies.

     It's exhausting, but it's better than staying up until I cant anymore, and it's slowly getting me my sister back.

     And then Jacob comes back into the picture

     He and Bella are fixing up some old bikes. I have no interest in them, so I sit with them and listen as they talk.

     Sometimes I draw some still life pictures of them, sitting together and working.

     Sometimes I sleep.

     Sometimes I do my homework like a good student.

     Slowly, I started to trust Jacob with my sister. I started picking up more daytime shifts at Roy's, and I started to relax.

     The nightmares still happen, but they've gone down to about twice a week now.

     Sometimes she only wakes up crying, others it's the screaming again.

     But progress is progress.

---

     "Y/n, I sat a group of three in your section. Booth in the far corner, babe." Makayla told me as I passed the host stand.

     "Thanks, Mak," I said, hurrying to drop off my drinks to some travelers before going to my new table.

     Ryan comes barreling my way to drop some food off, and I spin around him to avoid knocking into him and his tray of food. I get to the booth in the back, seeing some familiar faces.

     "Hey guys," I smile, recognizing two of my favorite customers, "I haven't seen you two in a minute, how've you been?"

     Sam, who I learned later from Charlie, had been the one to find Bella after she was dumped in the woods by Edward. I didn't care if he knew who I was or not, not really, because I knew who he was. I couldn't do much for him, but showing my gratitude for saving my sister through the Family and Friend's discount was enough for me.

     "So busy," Jared complains, pointing an accusing finger at Sam, "He's had me doing chores for days and makes me take more if I don't do my homework! He's like my mom now!"

     Sam rolls his eyes as I laugh, reaching out to flick Jared in the forehead. The two of them have been coming to

     "You're working with me, I'm responsible for you. So sad for you." Sam says dryly, and I shake my head at their antics.

     "Strawberry shake and Pepsi?" I ask them, my eyes tuning towards their new friend.

     He looks rough, almost like Bella did. His long hair is pulled back in a hastily done bun, and his eyes are sharp and attentive. He looks at me oddly, his brows slightly drawn together and his eyes squinting slightly.

     "What can I get for you?" I ask him, an odd feeling rising in my chest as I meet his eyes.

     He's quiet for a moment before he takes a deep breath and orders a water.

     I nod, taking down his drink order and turning towards the kitchen.

     "Ooh, your friends brought someone new!" Chelsea crooned, coming to drape her arms over my shoulders as she watches me fill up the two cups in my hands. I roll my eyes.

     "Chels, why are you always back here when you're supposed to be doing your work?" I ask, dragging her towards the milkshake machine as I fill up Jared's strawberry shake.

     "I'm doing my side work! I got cut early." She says, smacking her gum in my ear. I cringe, reaching back to push her face away from mine.

      "Love that for you, girl, but get your smacking away from my ears, please." I told her, hearing her laugh as I add a cherry to the milkshake and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. She walks off to go finish cutting her lemons and I put all three drinks on the tray to bring them out.

     I set down the drinks and milkshake, turning the tray under my arm as I pull out my note pad to take down their food order.

     "Number three, no unions, large fry, and a chicken sandwich, unions, tomatoes, lettuce, with a large fry." Jared rattles out, and I jot it down quickly. I turn to Sam and notice a distinct lack of his friend beside him.

     "Chicken tenders and a large fry, number two and a basket of onion rings, please," Sam says, adding, "Paul will have the same as me, but without the onion rings and with fried pickles instead."

     I nod, writing it all down.

     "You want me to put a slice of pie in and bring it out later?" I ask, seeing Jared nod enthusiastically.

     "That'd be great, y/n, thanks." I again nod at Sam's words, turning away and hustling to the kitchen to put in their order.

     I service my other tables while the boys' food is being made, bustling around my section. I'm keenly aware of eyes on me, but I figure it's just someone waiting to get my attention so I can give them a refill.

     When their food is ready, I bring it out to Sam and his group.

     I set each of the baskets down before each of the boys, picking up their cups and going to get them refills.

     They each eat quickly, and every time I pass their table, my skin prickles.

     I try to see if it's one of them that needs my attention, but each time I look over, they're all engrossed in their food, or a conversation. Any time I look over, they're in tense conversation. I try and keep my distance so I don't disturb them, but I make sure to keep attentive to their cups and plates.

     I sigh after a while, deciding that I must be making things up. No one seemed to be looking at me.

     They ate quickly and I ran them their check. I was left with a good tip and a smiley face on the paper of the check beside Sam's signature.

---

     When I was finally cut to go home, I took a long shower and collapsed in my bed. When my eyes closed, I saw a picture in my mind's eye.

     Dark eyes framed by thick lashes. My vision slowly panned out, and I saw dark eyebrows. There was a slight wrinkle between them, like the person was frowning. Slowly, my mind put together a strong nose, then high cheekbones, full lips, and a strong jaw. Finally, I saw long, dark hair framing this handsome face.

     Slowly, I put a name to the face I saw in my mind.

     Paul.

     Why I was seeing Sam and Jared's friend, I had no clue. There was no denying that he was attractive, though. His angular face and sharp eyes made him look uninviting, but his sullen demeanor was softened by his full, almost pouty lips and well kept hair. His lack of facial hair made him look younger compared to Jared, who's scruffy chin made him look closer to twenty than to seventeen. The long, silky hair on his head had been messily pulled back, yes, but it served to make him look almost boyish, also.

     I was pulled out of my thoughts when my door creaked open, and I peeled my eyes awake to see Bella standing in the doorway. Wordlessly, I pulled back the blankets around me and scooted over. She shut the door behind her and fell into my bed, sighing as I reaching out to pull the blanket over her shoulders.

     I fell asleep shortly after, Bella's breathing steady almost immediately.

Word Count: 3157

Author's Note:

Hey guys!! This is my first fic ever! Please lmk what you think about it 🥰

Also, I plan to change some things about the story. I'm going on a mix of the books and movies, but I plan to change the timeline a little, change the logistics a bit, and make some of the characters a bit older because I don't like how literally everyone is like 16?? Anyway, I'll probably put out a chapter of all the stuff I change to get some feedback and stuff

All rights go to the original authors and publishers !