#and once i made sense of the chart

[yarnoverhook]

[La Résilience] Cowl

[squeiky]

METAL SONIC X CHAOS ZERO!!!

IN ALL THE CHARTS I COULD FIND!!

Some of the charts got repetitive, so i cropped it.

NOTES: there may be someee minor inconsitences as sometimes id change mind my across one chart to another.

If you want an expliantion for ANY of my choices here, please ask! I am starving for conversation about this relationship- so please please please ask my questions- or just tell me your own ideas! Idk! Communicate! Your words and thoughts are not dumb!! They are very important to me and must be shared!!!

Also, some more of my thoughts + notes after the cut:

-----------

I think my favorite charts are the first two, since the first one was pretty thourghough and easy to get whilst also including intresting and unique questions to the relatio ship dynamic. the second one i added a bit of character interaction so its really cute, and thats practically why i like.

---

I particularly like the touch chart, as i really had to consider wthe physicality of these two, and the custom model was fun to make (look they're even holding hands haha). It was a bit tricky considering i had to figure out what touches where welcomed and what weren't based on previous canonical interactions, and my own theories/speculations.

---

Oh, to explian the "lends clothes" and "borrows/steals clothes", i always found the neat detail of Neo Metal Sonic's wardrobe possesing a kind of.. arm warmer/bell sleeve? As well as its pants(?) Being a bell bottom.

Without the belt/butt cape, it does make metal sonics limbs somehwhat resemble the sillouette of Chaos' body, so obviously- i just figured that Chaos, if he were to wear any clothing, would probably be stolen by Metal Sonic since it already seems to be fond of that particular look that Chaos naturally has.

--

Oh, and Metal and Chaos being somewhat organized is due to thier jobs and enviornment they grew up in. Eggman, being the opposite of Sonics carefree, chaotic attitude, would likely prefer more cleaner, organized or "controlled" enviornments. Thus, i feel that Metal Sonic may have picked up a few tidying or cleaning habits that were a cause of eggman simply teaching or implimenting features in his bots to prefer the "clean up" of "dirty" or "messy" areas.

For chaos, i do recall reading something (perhaps on the chao wiki) of him purifying the Altars water and keeping it relatively clean from debries and such. Furthermore, having to be sole guardian of little children chao, the altar and the master emerald, requires a lot of responsibility and- if anyone has worked with children before- it can get very messy very quickly. So its mere speculation, but i do think Chaos would have picked up many cleaning habits as well, as well as cooking/harvesting skills due to him having to take care of large batches of critters.

Surprisingly, for a creature named "Chaos", the name only truely applies to the singular instance in which he is "Final Chaos" (as thats likely what the echidnas called him during and after that time.) Turns out, Chaos is way more controlled and responsible than chaotic and carefree.

So to segway, out of the two, Metal Sonic would be way more chaotic considering its nack for stirring up trouble (CD, Sonic Heroes, Chaotix.. ect) for the heroes, as well as it not really having major responsibilites outside of its purpose to "destroy sonic" and occasionally obey whatever task eggman requires of it.

Thus, is why in the driving promps, i title it "a speeder".

---

To explain the "Cognito Egro Sum" (aka. I think therefore i am) and the "infinty symbol" for the ages, er.. Metal sonic is a robot, and Chaos is an immortal being. If your being technical with it, you can say they're both relatively young, considering Chaos chao can't age and are often stuck in the form they were hatched in- despite the fact that chao do infact change as they age-

One can consider the idea that Chaos, for all intensive purposes, looks and probably is pretty young- if we apply chao logic to him.

Though one will argue "but Chaos is ancient" which is true, but his case is similar to Shadow's as he was trapped in that Master emerald for... millions of years............. so, similarly to how shadow was stuck for 50 years yet remains a teenager both inside and out, Chaos- for whatever age he was before he got trapped, probably still thinks and acts like that, as well as Tikal. Except now they probably need a LOT of therapy.

^hence why i put chaos's sleeping habits as "sleeps poorly" and "sleeps to little". In hindsight, being trapped in a emerald for thousands of years, with your freind of who's father killed your entire* family and burned your house (altar) down and tried to steal your most precious item (master emerald) and being the girl whos stuck with your freind(?) who killed your entire bloodline and basically genocided your entire community- stuck with him for THOUSANDS OF YEARS- is.....is going to require a lot of therapy.

So y'know, bad sleeping problems. Also probably why i depict Chaos hugging a lot + being affectionate, since being deprived your community that is entirely reliant on the concept of "caring, loving, and nurturing one another" (cause.. the opposite of that means chao will basically die upon reincarnation), for thousands of years is... a good recipe for touch starvation and a need for attention.

^hence why chaos is also on the attention side of some charts.

----

^ just conintuing off of that previous statement, i did move Chaos closer towards "extrovert" in the "extrovert or introvert" prompts, as since Chaos, unlike Metal Sonic, deals closely with many chao, and often is surrounded by a crowd of them, i do believe that Chaos would have to atleast gain some energy from social interaction in order to surivive that every day, without burning out.

----

The whole "who talks more" thing is kind of funny because, technically, its metal sonic (see Sonic Heroes + Sonic Free riders) who has more lines than.. Chaos's total of zero!

Meaning that, if anything, the "he said no pickles" meme would probably mean that Metal Sonic would be at the counter whilst Chaos is sitting in the back.

Though, compared to MANY other characters, these two are practically dead-silent, and would most likely rely on non-verbal ways of affection than verbal.

---

Oh and the "ethical v. Immoral thing" where i emphasized that chaos was "neutral" was because by compsring him to "chaos chao", theres a dark side, good guy side, and then neutral. Considering Chaos's history of amazingly goodwilled to horrendously incidous, one can conclude that he practically in the middle in terms of ethics or morality.

Metal sonic is definetly on the more immoral side, though i wouldnt put it all the way, as i do have considering enviornmental aspects to its behavior (such as well.. being a badnik, and being constantly exposed to eggman's immoral behaviors). So, other than like, unnesecarily abusing animal freinds in CD, and throwing a ship probably full of people at sonic (Sonic heroes) there aren't many instances in which Metal Sonic does something completely immoral and unjust- without any context regarding eggman ordering it too, or simply it just doing its job as a badnik.

However those actions are prettt bad on its own- though compared to... killing out an entire species... drowning thousands of people in a city and attempting to kill eggman with a giant laserbeam... and to whatever hyjinks eggman gets up too...

Its actions seem.. relatively small (though not obsolete.)

So like, theres not going to be many issues regarding "metal sonics gotta be a good guy"/ "i can fix him🥺" mentalities, since its kind of hard to do that, when you have a kill count of a 100+ whilst Metal Sonic is still on the "i'm needlessly harming animals, and threw a boat"...

Then again, i like to think the leiniency allows for them to work on themselves together, rather than tear eachother down or hate eachothers guts.

---

Transgender - both for my headcannnon, but also a refrence to it literally going "i transformed myself with my own hands" and well, i cant resist a pun/play on words now can i?

Agender- chaos dont have.. genders.

However, i thought this would change when introduced to concept of feminine and masculine models of the ancients in frontiers, but looking at Chaos, he doesnt resemble either one very much (tbh, in Sonic Forces, his model actually looks more akin to the fem version, than the pointy and sharp masc ones) and looks more akin to that of the children, if anything.

Plus, being masculine or feminine isnt really and indicator of gender anyways.. so like..???

So what? Does Chaos, gender? NOPE! Chaos isn't an ancient (thats his ancestor) and is a mutated chao. Chaos are genderless, or atleast out of that particular binary.

If Tikal showed up one day and started calling Chaos a "he/him", its likely that Chaos could've just.. adopted that. Assigned pronouns by random. Amazing.

So agender, as i can't think of anything else.

---

Sexuality -idk. Look, i dont consider whomth one likes. The knowledge of my characters, or other characters sexualites comes upon me in the way preists suddenly hear the words of their gods.

I dunno, until suddenly i know. Thats just how it is.

---

Ending it here cause im hungrt and cant think of anything else to chat on.

[shomatoriashi]

12/01/24; 06:41pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you steal a kiss from them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

always known to fall asleep during the daylight hours, you decided to be a good girlfriend and allow sylus to get some much needed rest.

but of course, sharing a living space with luke and kieran provided double the challenge for you. throughout the day, it seemed like your main mission involved preventing the twins from making too much noise-

or from blowing up the whole mansion in general.

their laughters and overall abundance of energy was wearing you down, and it got so bad that you decided to set them off on a scavenger hunt you had made up on a whim, just to get some peace and quiet. once they were out of the house and roaming the streets of the n109 zone, you let out a sigh of relief, heading back to your shared bedroom. now in the confines of your sanctuary, you shut the door behind you while letting out a gentle huff.

trailing your gaze towards the bed, you smile upon seeing sylus still resting comfortably in bed. the comforter covered the lower half of his body, and you could feel your heart pounding in response to the sight of his perfectly sculpted chest and how it lay bare for your eyes alone.

it didn’t matter how many years you’ve spent together with sylus. without fail, your abdomen would always erupt with butterflies at the sight of his beauty. as if caught in a trance, you step closer to the sleeping man, heart already racing with anticipation at what you were about to do.

you stand over your lover, admiring the tranquility of his sleeping face when you heed your heart’s desire and lean your face down closer to his, pressing your lips against sylus in a gentle kiss.

“hn, i was wondering when you’d come back to me.”

sylus’s rich voice catches you off guard, and you gasp in response, feeling sylus open his eyes before placing a large hand behind your head, keeping you still before crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. the tip of his tongue traces at the border of your lips, and you steadily began to lose all of your senses the moment you open up to him, allowing him to slide his tongue in and get a taste of you.

sleep had long since evaded sylus when he keeps you close to him, taking advantage of your newfound privacy as he quickly morphed your simple kisses into something much more passionate.

zayne had locked himself within his office once more-

and you felt incredibly disappointed in the fact that he was still working despite it being his day off.

however, you did your best to forgive him in such situation, since he was someone who saved lives with his profession.

you just wished there was something you could do to help with easing his stress.

as the hours went by, you look at the clock to see it was already 7pm, with no signs of zayne coming out of his office anytime soon. letting out a sigh, you figured you could help your boyfriend destress by ordering some good takeout for dinner. not in the mood to cook, you figured it was fine to treat yourself to some of your favorite takeaway while sharing it with zayne. with your orders placed and paid for, you hesitantly walk toward his office and give the door a series of knocks.

“it’s unlocked, honey.” zayne’s tired voice was heard coming from behind the door, and you could feel the heat travel up your neck at the sound of his affectionate nickname for you.

with a sheepish grin, you enter his office, your greeting for him settled at the tip of your tongue, yet something stops you. your eyes take in the sight of zayne, dressed comfortably in a grey sweater as his eyes poured over the various patient charts settled on his desk. his reading glasses remained settled against the tip of his nose, and his hair appeared messier than usual, like he had been running his hands through them throughout the day.

a compulsion was felt coursing through your veins, your heart and mind both telling you that you needed to kiss him at this very moment. for some reason, zayne looked incredibly alluring to you, and you found yourself falling in love with him all over again.

you take gentle strides toward zayne, calling out his name while in an almost trancelike state. zayne meets your gaze and acknowledges you-

only to let out a gasp when you suddenly crash your lips against his. the shock he felt lasts for a mere second before he responds, moving his lips slowly as he slots his lips against yours, kissing you back with just as much passion.

when the need for air proved to be too much, you were the first to pull away from him, feeling embarrassed when zayne gives you a knowing smile. “i apologize, had i known you had missed me so much, i would have spent more time with you.”

you could only manage a series of stutters in response to his sweet words, earning a sweet chuckle from him. grasping at your hand, he places a lingering kiss at the back of them, “forgive me?”

you shake your head, getting rid of your nervousness and smile, feeling zayne place you on his lap. being closer to him now, you allowed your hands the pleasure of running through his soft strands of hair, “of course i forgive you. i always do because you’re a good man who saves lives for a living.”

a rich chuckle escapes from zayne as he takes off his glasses, leaning into you with another smile on his face, “i suppose you do wish to be spoiled after all.”

and when zayne suddenly surges forward, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss, you allowed the rest of the world to melt away-

not even caring that your dinner had already arrived, since all you could taste and feel was zayne.

your losing streak with kitty cards would be your tragic end-

you were certain of it as xavier seemed to have all the luck on his side.

from getting the optimal amount of kitty cards and their matching cups, his score kept climbing higher and higher-

leaving you sobbing in the dust as you struggled to keep up.

even with the various power ups you tried to use to help with lowering his winnings, none of them seemed to be enough.

currently, you were on your last round of kitty cards with xavier, leaving you pouting at your hunter boyfriend as he kept giggling sweetly at you, holding his cards above his lips to help with hiding his smile in hopes of easing the blow of your incoming loss.

“hehe, s-sorry, but your pouting face is so cute… you’re so adorable.” xavier tells you, clearly enjoying his winnings so far-

and admittedly, you felt the tiniest bit petty-

actively ignoring how much your heart was racing at the sight of xavier’s smiling face.

yet xavier seemed to bask in your annoyance, still chuckling lightly as he waited for you to complete your turn. letting out a grumble of his name, you cross both arms across your chest and tell him, “wipe that grin off your face, it’s not funny that you’re so lucky right now…!”

yet your words simply make xavier chuckle even more at you, no longer using his cards to hide his smile as he laughed at you. you let out a huff, wishing to wipe that cute smile off his face when you lean across the table to press an unexpected kiss against xavier’s lips.

your boyfriend lets out a surprised sound that was a mix between a gasp and a grunt, making you smile against his lips while deepening the kiss, not stopping until you were certain that xavier would be left speechless. knowing that you had successfully swallowed the rest of his laughter, you pull away from him with an almost smug expression on your face.

now, it was your turn to giggle at xavier, watching as his cheeks take on a rosier hue, actively blushing as he kept touching at his lips. finally registering the sounds of your laughter, xavier tosses aside his cards and allows the colored teacups to fall to the ground the moment he lunges at you, with his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

“no fair… you cheated.” it was xavier’s turn to pout when he presses you closer to him.

feeling playful, you stick your tongue out at him-

only for xavier to respond by leaning down to kiss you once more, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that had you seeing stars by the end of it all.

there was something achingly beautiful when it came to witnessing rafayel complete a painting he had been working on for nearly weeks on end.

and you were lucky enough to be the closest to him when these moments struck-

where you allowed yourself to bask in the beauty of rafayel’s radiant gaze, his eyes looking over the completed canvas with a sense of noticeable pride coursing through his veins.

there also seemed to be a glowing aura that surrounds him, making him appear so wonderful and oh so breathtaking that your heart would ache in response to witnessing something so ethereal.

filled with love for him, you step into his studio, calling out rafayel’s name while he was in the midst of basking in his completed work. he hums and faces you, giving you a beaming smile while welcoming you with arms wide open, “hey princess-“

you stand closer to him, cutting him off when you leaned up against him before pressing a loving kiss against his lips. he stiffens momentarily in surprise, yet still, you continued to kiss him, filled with an almost possessive desire to claim him as yours alone.

yet instead of pushing you away-

rafayel responds beautifully to you, kissing you back while wrapping both of his arms around your waist to help with bringing you closer to him. a giggle was felt bubbling within your throat when you break off the kiss first.

“hey, why’d you pull away so fast?” rafayel’s pouting face earns yet another giggle from you, making you lean up to press a kiss against his nose. “truly, i don’t know what came over me. i just wanted to show you how proud i am of you… and… let you know how beautiful you are each time you finish a project you’re so passionate about.”

rafayel’s eyes light up with unbidden joy upon hearing your words, “oh now you’re just begging to be smothered in kisses! you better prepare yourself princess.”

the sight of your grinning face makes your lemurian lover crush your body against his, allowing him to kiss at your features, practically littering your face with his playful kisses as your laughter echoes throughout the studio.

end notes: i’ve been writing too much smut and figured there needed to be some much needed fluff with my fave LADS men as a palate cleanser 😅😅😅

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[5ummit]

AO3 Ship Stats: Year In Bad Data

You may have seen this AO3 Year In Review.

It hasn’t crossed my tumblr dash but it sure is circulating on twitter with 3.5M views, 10K likes, 17K retweets and counting. Normally this would be great! I love data and charts and comparisons!

Except this data is GARBAGE and belongs in the TRASH.

I first noticed something fishy when I realized that Steve/Bucky – the 5th largest ship on AO3 by total fic count – wasn’t on this Top 100 list anywhere. I know Marvel’s popularity has fallen in recent years, but not that much. Especially considering some of the other ships that made it on the list. You mean to tell me a femslash HP ship (Mary MacDonald/Lily Potter) in which one half of the pairing was so minor I had to look up her name because she was only mentioned once in a single flashback scene beat fandom juggernaut Stucky? I call bullshit.

Now obviously jumping to conclusions based on gut instinct alone is horrible practice... but it is a good place to start. So let’s look at the actual numbers and discover why this entire dataset sits on a throne of lies.

Here are the results of filtering the Steve/Bucky tag for all works created between Jan 1, 2023 and Dec 31, 2023:

Not only would that place Steve/Bucky at #23 on this list, if the other counts are correct (hint: they're not), it’s also well above the 1520-new-work cutoff of the #100 spot. So how the fuck is it not on the list? Let’s check out the author’s FAQ to see if there’s some important factor we’re missing.

The first thing you’ll probably notice in the FAQ is that the data is being scraped from publicly available works. That means anything privated and only accessible to logged-in users isn’t counted. This is Sin #1. Already the data is inaccurate because we’re not actually counting all of the published fics, but the bots needed to do data collection on this scale can't easily scrape privated fics so I kinda get it. We’ll roll with this for now and see if it at least makes the numbers make more sense:

Nope. Logging out only reduced the total by a couple hundred. Even if one were to choose the most restrictive possible definition of "new works" and filter out all crossovers and incomplete fics, Steve/Bucky would still have a yearly total of 2,305. Yet the list claims their total is somewhere below 1,500? What the fuck is going on here?

Let’s look at another ship for comparison. This time one that’s very recent and popular enough to make it on the list so we have an actual reference value for comparison: Nick/Charlie (Heartstopper). According to the list, this ship sits at #34 this year with a total of 2630 new works. But what’s AO3 say?

Off by a hundred or so but the values are much closer at least!

If we dig further into the FAQ though we discover Sin #2 (and the most egregious): the counting method. The yearly fic counts are NOT determined by filtering for a certain time period, they’re determined by simply taking a snapshot of the total number of fics in a ship tag at the end of the year and subtracting the previous end-of-year total. For example, if you check a ship tag on Jan 1, 2023 and it has 10,000 fics and check it again on Jan 1, 2024 and it now has 12,000 fics, the difference (2,000) would be the number of "new works" on this chart.

At first glance this subtraction method might seem like a perfectly valid way to count fics, and it’s certainly the easiest way, but it can and did have major consequences to the point of making the entire dataset functionally meaningless. Why? If any older works are deleted or privated, every single one of those will be subtracted from the current year fic count. And to make the problem even worse, beginning at the end of last year there was a big scare about AI scraping fics from AO3, which caused hundreds, if not thousands, of users to lock down their fics or delete them.

The magnitude of this fuck up may not be immediately obvious so let’s look at an example to see how this works in practice.

Say we have two ships. Ship A is more than a decade old with a large fanbase. Ship B is only a couple years old but gaining traction. On Jan 1, 2023, Ship A had a catalog of 50,000 fics and ship B had 5,000. Both ships have 3,000 new works published in 2023. However, 4% of the older works in each fandom were either privated or deleted during that same time (this percentage is was just chosen to make the math easy but it’s close to reality).

Ship A: 50,000 x 4% = 2,000 removed works Ship B: 5,000 x 4% = 200 removed works

Ship A: 3,000 - 2,000 = 1,000 "new" works Ship B: 3,000 - 200 = 2,800 "new" works

This gives Ship A a net gain of 1,000 and Ship B a net gain of 2,800 despite both fandoms producing the exact same number of new works that year. And neither one of these reported counts are the actual new works count (3,000). THIS explains the drastic difference in ranking between a ship like Steve/Bucky and Nick/Charlie.

How is this a useful measure of anything? You can't draw any conclusions about the current size and popularity of a fandom based on this data.

With this system, not only is the reported "new works" count incorrect, the older, larger fandom will always be punished and it’s count disproportionately reduced simply for the sin of being an older, larger fandom. This example doesn’t even take into account that people are going to be way more likely to delete an old fic they're no longer proud of in a fandom they no longer care about than a fic that was just written, so the deletion percentage for the older fandom should theoretically be even larger in comparison.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the author of this "study" KNEW the data was tainted and chose to present it as meaningful anyway. You will only find this if you click through to the FAQ and read about the author’s methodology, something 99.99% of people will NOT do (and even those who do may not understand the true significance of this problem):

The author may try to argue their post states that the tags "which had the greatest gain in total public fanworks” are shown on the chart, which makes it not a lie, but a error on the viewer’s part in not interpreting their data correctly. This is bullshit. Their chart CLEARLY titles the fic count column “New Works” which it explicitly is NOT, by their own admission! It should be titled “Net Gain in Works” or something similar.

Even if it were correctly titled though, the general public would not understand the difference, would interpret the numbers as new works anyway (because net gain is functionally meaningless as we've just discovered), and would base conclusions on their incorrect assumptions. There’s no getting around that… other than doing the counts correctly in the first place. This would be a much larger task but I strongly believe you shouldn’t take on a project like this if you can’t do it right.

To sum up, just because someone put a lot of work into gathering data and making a nice color-coded chart, doesn’t mean the data is GOOD or VALUABLE.

[sagelasters]

scientific study on the void state

For decades, people have thought sleeping is a momental period or pause where both the body and mind is asleep. When I stopped remembering my dreams, I recalled seeing just pitch black in my sleep, and I never thought much about it until I started getting into the void and loa in general. It’s strange how my mind remembered those moments of nothingness and pure darkness, they were briefly short but I came to the conclusion that every single one of us has been in a void state. Whether or not you remembered it, maybe you do, maybe for a split second you were enveloped in pitch blackness till you woke up. Most of us brush off these strange phenomenals, but here’s the real question: Is it possible to be aware in your sleep? The answer is yes, our subconscious mind is fully awake even in your sleep. I think one of the most interesting scientific experiments I’ve read was an interview in 2022, it explores the ‘objectless awareness’ in our sleep. 

There were about 38 participants in the experiment, in which they were given a word to mentally spell and then they were interviewed based on that specific spelling. This is to measure participant’s memory accuracy, just to make sure they didn’t fabricate or make up any descriptions in the experiment. When participants pass the first round, they are given a survey if they have experiences of being conscious in their sleep. The result is that some participants recalled to lack any bodily sensations or imagery, one person reported that they lost the sense of being ‘themself’ but they identified as a ‘light’ or ‘orb’. Another person reported that after being in the state of nothingness, they were shaken up and brought to another ‘dream scenery’. Others recalled that their thoughts were completely non-existent in this state and they are aware of being ‘transitioned’ to what they called the ‘black spot’ and ‘nothingness state’. 

The chart summarizes what the participants experience in their sleep, the ‘nothingness phase’ seems to be the middle ground between regular sleeping state, to hypnagogia (transition between being awake and sleep, you experience sleep paralysis and muscle jerks in this stage). Most participants were unable to recall what happened after they transitioned out of the ‘nothingness phase’. The following is what they said:

Participant 1

"So, this sensation of nothing was letting me know that I was still in a dream, because I made the comparison to, I cannot feel any of my limbs. So, I know that I’m not just in bed right now with my eyes closed. Because none of my body’s there."

Participant 2

"I no longer have an idea of a body.. a dream body at that point. And then I [emphasis] became or was this just like this little ball of light, […]. So like I knew that the sphere of light was ME, but also like the light that was around the sphere was me, […] Once I become the sphere, you are asking if I have any body perception? I do not have any at that point […] having a dream body is just completely gone."

Participant 9

“And then, and then all of a sudden, there was just nothing I could not, I’ve gone from, from my body, I guess. And I’ve had other bodies before and this felt very, very, very different where I did not like there was no dream body, no dream scene. No, no ANYTHING. It almost seems like a form about a body. But it almost seems like you are, you are caught between, caught between somewhere where you are trying to get in and the physical, you are, you are somewhere else. […] And so, so I was able to feel that I guess.” 

Participant 8

“It’s more like I was the void. ”

Participant 12

" It’s just total darkness. And you…, there’s very little difference between you and what’s around you. ”

Well didn’t that blow your mind away? This probably raises more questions on more phenomenal that modern science has no idea about, considering the fact that we just discovered our sense of awareness is still on even in our sleep. 

Citation

Alcaraz-Sánchez A, Demšar E, Campillo-Ferrer T, Torres-Platas SG. Nothingness Is All There Is: An Exploration of Objectless Awareness During Sleep. Front Psychol. 2022 Jun 10;13:901031. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2022.901031. PMID: 35756253; PMCID: PMC9226678.

[astrojulia]

Asteroid Fay (4820) in the Natal Chart

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The asteroid Fay (4820) gets a lot of fairy stuff when you see posts about this asteroid, but I don't see it that way. I may be tripping on this analysis, yes, but let's go. It was named after a pilot, Fay Gillis Wells,a woman. If it is hard to come by in those areas these days, imagine back then. So I see it more as the feminine authenticity, the part that was repressed from you when you were a child because it wasn't adequate, that part of you that only many years later you realize was killed because they didn't believe in it. Much like Tinkerbell when they didn't believe in her. It's a part of you that was repressed not by your fault, but by others. The fairytail that was killed when you were a girl. I di this analysis focusing more on why it was named that way and it trajectory than just thinking about what Fay means. So, in the end, I just tried to have some fun doing this post, sorry.

Fay in the Signs

The sign where Fay is reveals the flavor and tone of your feminine authenticity—the unique, often misunderstood part of yourself that might have been repressed by external expectations or societal norms. Over time, rediscovering this part of you brings empowerment, healing, and the ability to honor your authentic self in ways that were once denied.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Aries: Your boldness, confidence, and pioneering spirit may have been stifled, perhaps through discouragement of your natural leadership or independence. Others might have seen your fiery self-expression as "too much." Rediscovery reawakens your fierce courage, rekindling a sense of personal initiative and the ability to unapologetically pursue your desires. You become a trailblazer in reclaiming what was once suppressed.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Taurus:Your connection to sensuality, material values, and the comfort of stability might have been dismissed, especially if practicality or frugality was overly emphasized in your upbringing. This repression may have made you doubt your worth or feel disconnected from physical pleasure and abundance. Rediscovery brings a deep, grounded connection to nature, beauty, and your self-esteem, allowing you to fully embrace a life of richness and contentment.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Gemini:Your curiosity, communication, and intellectual playfulness may have been silenced or undervalued. Perhaps others deemed your ideas frivolous or dismissed your need for learning and sharing. Rediscovery empowers your voice, sharpens your wit, and brings the confidence to express your thoughts freely. You reclaim your role as a dynamic storyteller and bridge-builder.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Cancer:Emotional vulnerability, nurturing instincts, and your deep sensitivity might have been undervalued, leading you to suppress your innate ability to care and connect. Rediscovery allows you to embrace your emotional intelligence and honor the power of your nurturing side. You reclaim the strength that comes from authentic emotional expression and your ability to create a safe, loving space for yourself and others.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Leo:Your creativity, self-expression, and natural magnetism may have been stifled, perhaps by others downplaying your talents or shaming your need for recognition. Rediscovery reignites your inner flame, allowing you to shine without apology. You step into the spotlight with confidence, celebrating your unique gifts and inspiring others to do the same.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Virgo:Your practicality and perfectionism may have been emphasized at the expense of your softer, more creative side. Perhaps you were pushed to focus on being useful and efficient, leaving little room for personal exploration or emotional ease. Rediscovery brings balance, allowing you to serve others while honoring your own needs. You reclaim the grace of self-care and the joy of embracing imperfections.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Libra:Your authenticity in relationships, harmony, and aesthetic appreciation may have been repressed, perhaps due to societal or familial pressures to conform. You might have been discouraged from asserting your individuality or desires for fear of upsetting the balance. Rediscovery empowers you to create beauty and equality in all areas of life, fostering relationships that honor both your needs and those of others.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Scorpio:Your intensity, transformative power, and deep emotional truth may have been buried, perhaps because others found them intimidating or "too much." This repression may have left you feeling disconnected from your own depths. Rediscovery brings fearless authenticity, allowing you to dive into the shadows, heal, and emerge as a beacon of resilience and empowerment.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Sagittarius:Your adventurous spirit, love of freedom, and thirst for knowledge may have been dismissed or restricted, leaving you feeling trapped or misunderstood. Rediscovery reignites your passion for exploration—whether through travel, philosophy, or learning. You reclaim your right to seek the truth and expand your horizons, living a life of bold authenticity.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Capricorn:Your ambition, discipline, and authority may have been repressed, especially if others placed limitations on your aspirations or doubted your ability to succeed. Rediscovery empowers you to take ownership of your goals, aligning your sense of responsibility with your authentic purpose. You emerge as a figure of self-determined success and leadership.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Aquarius:Your eccentricity, innovation, and visionary ideas may have been shunned, particularly if they challenged conventional norms. This repression might have left you questioning your uniqueness or feeling isolated. Rediscovery allows you to embrace your role as a trailblazer, bringing originality and progressive thought into your life and the world around you.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 Pisces:Your sensitivity, spirituality, and imaginative nature may have been dismissed as impractical or unrealistic, leaving you feeling unseen or undervalued. Rediscovery reconnects you to your intuitive gifts and the dreamlike essence of your soul. You reclaim your ability to inspire and create from a place of deep emotional and spiritual authenticity.

Fay in the Houses

The house in which Fay resides in your natal chart indicates the specific life area where your feminine authenticity may have been stifled, often due to external pressures or unmet validation during formative years. Over time, this placement illuminates the process of reclaiming your suppressed self, allowing you to thrive authentically in this domain of life.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 1st House: Repression here may have stifled your sense of self, physical presence, or how you express your individuality to the world. Perhaps you were made to feel you didn’t measure up in appearance, personality, or confidence, leaving you hesitant to assert your true identity. Rediscovery empowers you to embrace who you are unapologetically, cultivating self-confidence and owning your presence with bold authenticity.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 2nd House: Your self-worth, personal values, or relationship with material security may have been suppressed, possibly by others imposing their priorities on you or undermining your sense of value. Rediscovery helps you rebuild a strong relationship with abundance, teaching you to honor your unique talents and to trust in your inherent worth. You learn to create a stable, fulfilling life on your terms.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 3rd House: Your voice, ideas, or intellectual curiosity may have been dismissed or stifled, leaving you hesitant to speak up or explore freely. Perhaps you felt your thoughts weren’t valued or that learning was too rigidly structured. Rediscovery brings liberation, allowing you to express yourself confidently, connect meaningfully, and embrace your inner storyteller or thinker.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 4th House: Family dynamics or early home life may have restricted your emotional truth or sense of safety. You may have been discouraged from exploring your vulnerability or made to conform to familial expectations. Rediscovery allows you to nurture yourself deeply, reconnect with your roots on your own terms, and even break generational patterns to create a home and foundation that truly supports your authenticity.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 5th House: Creativity, playfulness, and romantic self-expression may have been overshadowed by pressure to be serious or productive. Perhaps your innate talents or joys were dismissed as frivolous. Rediscovery rekindles your passion for life, helping you reconnect with your inner child, celebrate your unique creativity, and find joy in authentic self-expression and love.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 6th House: Service, routines, or health-related responsibilities may have overshadowed your authentic self. Perhaps you were expected to sacrifice your individuality for the sake of duty or perfectionism. Rediscovery teaches you to balance responsibility with self-care, crafting a meaningful and sustainable lifestyle that honors your uniqueness and supports your well-being.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 7th House: In close relationships, you may have suppressed your individuality, feeling overshadowed or compelled to conform to others’ needs. Rediscovery empowers you to create partnerships that are equal and fulfilling, where your voice is valued. This placement helps you strike a balance between connection and autonomy, fostering relationships that reflect your true self.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 8th House: Deep emotional or transformative power may have been buried due to fear, shame, or external repression of your intense nature. Perhaps you were taught to hide your vulnerability, sexuality, or capacity for profound change. Rediscovery brings courage to explore your depths, embrace your shadows, and emerge with a greater sense of empowerment and authenticity.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 9th House: Your thirst for knowledge, spiritual exploration, or adventurous spirit may have been dismissed or discouraged. Others may have sought to limit your vision or impose rigid beliefs. Rediscovery reignites your passion for freedom and learning, encouraging you to embrace your personal truth and explore the world with openness and wisdom.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 10th House: Your public role, career ambitions, or sense of purpose may have been restricted, perhaps by societal expectations or self-doubt. Rediscovery aligns you with a career or legacy that reflects your true nature and aspirations. You find the courage to step into your authority and pursue a path that feels authentically meaningful and impactful.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 11th House: Your individuality within groups or your visionary ideas may have been suppressed, possibly because they challenged norms or went against the grain. Rediscovery helps you find your true community—those who support and celebrate your unique contributions—and reconnects you to your ideals and dreams for the future.

∞ ₒ ˚ °𐐒 12th House: Subconscious fears, societal expectations, or hidden pressures may have stifled your spiritual and intuitive gifts, leaving you disconnected from your inner world. Rediscovery invites you to embrace your sensitivity, delve into your dreams, and unlock the hidden wisdom within. You learn to trust your intuition and honor the depth of your soul’s journey.

Fay Aspecting Planets

Sun: Your core identity is tied to reclaiming authenticity. Challenges help you grow into self-expression.

Moon: Emotional vulnerability and healing are central. Rediscovery nurtures your emotional truth.

Mercury: Your voice and ideas reclaim confidence and clarity after past suppression.

Venus: Self-worth and relationships evolve as you rediscover your value and beauty.

Mars: Assertiveness and passion emerge as you embrace your authentic drive.

Jupiter: Personal growth and wisdom come through rediscovering your true nature.

Saturn: Early restrictions transform into strength and discipline in reclaiming authenticity.

Uranus: Rediscovery liberates you to express your unique, rebellious side.

Neptune: Creativity and spirituality guide you to reclaim your authentic essence.

Pluto: Deep transformation and empowerment are key to rediscovering your true self.

Rising: Your journey of authenticity is visible to others, shaping your public image and first impression. Challenges push you to embody your true self confidently.

Midheaven: Your career and public role reflect your journey of reclaiming authenticity. Rediscovery aligns your purpose with your truest self, inspiring others through your professional and personal legacy.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

[sturniqlo]

RAPPER!CHRIS x SINGER!READER

*.✧ get to know rapper!chris and singer!reader ✧.*

both sfw and nsfw

rapper!chris who listened to singer!readers entire discography after he met her

singer!reader who played hard to get to see just how much rapper!chris wanted her. and also because she knew about his history with girls. plus, she has a bit of trouble committing to anyone (but they both hooked up once before they started dating)

rapper!chris and singer!reader who are each others plus one to any and every event

rapper!chris who gets a chain with singer!readers name or initials on it

rapper!chris who eventually gets a tattoo of singer!readers' kiss mark. it's a total surprise for her once she had gotten back from a quick trip to nyc

rapper!chris and singer!reader who aren't afraid to show each other off. always posting each other on thier social media, pointing each other out at their shows, and mentioning each other during interviews and songs

rapper!chris who loves to go rough but will often times take it slow and soft to feel her and take his time with her

rapper!chris and singer!reader who love to do interviews/videos together just for fun. like BuzzFeed CELEB, ELLE, WIRED, and GQ. even when they're not promoting anything

rapper!chris who will publicly call out anyone who makes a rude comment about singer!reader or mentions her in a song that rubs him the wrong way

singer!reader who loves going to visit rapper!chris in the studio whenever he is recording. always brings him food, snacks, drinks, or anything he asks for

rapper!chris and singer!reader who love to make silly little songs together that don't make sense at all and never release them, however one time chris accidentally posted one of the songs and it accidentally made the charts for how silly it was. (it was about the lunch they had, had that day)

rapper!chris who is in awe of everything singer!reader has ever accomplished. he teared up when she won her very first grammy, was over the moon when her song went platinum in a week, went to every. single. show of her tour no matter what state or country it was in, he was there

rapper!chris who goes to every. single. show of singer!readers' tour no matter what state or country it's in, he's always there supporting her

singer!reader who always senses when rapper!chris is taking candid pictures of her

rapper!chris who puts singer!readers' moans into one of his songs and ends up putting it in his album with her consent of course

rapper!chris and singer!reader who are both so utterly in love with each other and everybody else loves them that they broke twitter the day they announced their engagement

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮★

an: not claiming this as my own idea! i know there as been several writers who have done this au before! anyways, i'm so excited to write for these two i love em already ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

masterlist | join my taglist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The clinic waiting room reflects the silent turmoil of your existence. You sit in the rigid plastic chairs and stare at the wall. Your mouth still tastes of bile. Only minutes ago, you were in the bathroom, spewing up your guts. It’s as if you’re own body is trying to convince you of reality. You don’t need this test, idiot, you’re fucked. 

When your name is called, you follow the dour nurse to a room. She goes over your chart and your reason for coming. She puts the clipboard in the plastic pocket mounted on the door and shuts it behind her as she goes. 

The doctor is thirty minutes behind. She gets you a stick to pee on and takes blood to send to the lab. The first test comes back positive but the second will take longer to process. It doesn’t matter. It’s really just repeating what you don’t want to hear. You are pregnant. 

The detached treatment has you feeling even more dejected. You’re given a stack of literature at the front desk before you go. You toss it in the bin by the building entrance and trod on.  

It isn’t just the child, it’s the father. You know deep down it can’t be your husband’s. It’s been too long since you... did that. As much as you want to lie to yourself, you can’t. All that’s done so far is dig the hole deeper. 

So, you don’t have much of a choice. You can’t afford it. Not financially, physically, or emotionally. An innocent child doesn’t deserve to be dragged into the mess you’ve made. 

First, you need to leave. You already have a plan. You’re packing your bags as soon as you get home. Wendy said you can crash for a while. You’ll have to figure it from her couch. Once you’re settled, you’ll go to another clinic and do what needs to be done. 

It isn’t the baby. Your marriage was already over. It just hurts. It’s not acceptance, it’s giving up. You can’t fix this. You tried so hard and it just didn’t work. The wasted time if worse than the wasted effort. 

A car honks but you barely notice. There's always someone raging in the streets. It comes again, shorter than before, and an engine whirs up to the curb, sliding in between two parked cars. The silver paint glares in your vision. 

“Hey,” the window rolls down, “how’d it go?” 

You stagger and face Steve Rogers as he hooks his elbow over the open window. You shake your head, “Excuse me?” 

“I was right.” He says. It’s just a fact, not smug. Just a statement. 

“Stop. Please. Leave me alone. I told you--” 

“You can’t run away from me.” He clicks free his seat belt and opens his car door. Before he can get out, you’re on the move. He catches up to your easily. “It’s mine.” 

You splay your fingers in frustration and keep walking. Please, just go. “No, I’m married. It’s up to me and my husband.” 

“I know you haven’t been fucking him.” His language has you skidding to a stop. You turn to him, aghast. “I can smell it. For a few days after.” 

“It would be more than a few days ago,” you snap. 

He scoffs, “yeah, it would be.” He stares at you and your heart flips.

“Have you—have you been following me?” 

He doesn’t answer, just looks back at you. He doesn’t need to say it. You know. 

“How long?” You hiss. 

“Look, that night...” he begins. 

“No. That night nothing! It’s over. One night and it’s not going to be the rest of my life. Alright?” 

“I’ll take care of you and the baby. Your husband won’t be happy to know that you and I--” 

“He’s not going to know, Captain.” You snarl. “He can’t know. Alright? This is a mistake but it can be undone. Got it? So go and live your superhero life while I scrape the barrel.” 

“You’re going to leave him anyways so why are you doing this?” He asks. His tone is so fucking annoying. As if it’s all so easy. 

“How do you—oh my god, oh my god. Please, back off.” You put your hands up and take a step back. 

“You can’t just get rid of my baby,” he follows you as you fall back into step. 

“Go.” 

“No, I won’t let you.” 

“I’m begging you--” 

“Just like you did that night. I know you didn’t forget.” He grabs your arm and pulls you around to face him. “You can’t. It was the best night of my life and you just disappeared. I can’t let you go again.” 

“Let go of me,” you wriggle in his grasp. 

“I’m trying to help you. I’m telling you that you don’t need to do all this. I can help with the baby. Please.” 

You stare up at him defiantly and tear away from him, “I don’t need you to save me. That was my first mistake. Thinking that a man could ever do that.” 

You turn and stomp away. He calls your name but you keep going. You can’t look back. You’re terrified. Deep down you know if he doesn’t follow you then, he will find you later. This whole time he’s been playing your shadow and you never even knew it. 

[starmosaics]

Many Rohinis are known for being in the public eye and having an infectious presence— whether it’s good or bad, eyes are on them, but from my observations and my own personal experience along with having loved ones with Rohini placements, most of us feel like we’re playing a part.

You can find Rohinis sometimes unknowingly play into someone’s projections or fantasies of them, other times they’re entirely aware. This may leave the Rohini native feeling alone and misunderstood because of their tendency to show people what they want to see, not who they actually are within. I feel like people tend to have this “idea” about Rohinis that can be so far off from the reality that at times the Rohini native may unconsciously absorb whatever that idea of them is. The Moon is receptive meaning it is constantly receiving stimuli and is sensitive to its environment; it can be easily influenced. Rohinis also receive a lot of passivity, jealousy and anger from people when they don’t match that person’s idea of them. However you perceive a Rohini to be, in worst cases the Rohini can mirror it back to you as we know the Moon reflects.

Marilyn Monroe for example had a Rohini Sun and was either loved or totally loathed by the public and had this reputation for being this beautiful and sensual actress. She often publicly portrayed herself as this innocent woman with a teasing presence that made men go crazy for her, yet she had a very sorrowful and vulnerable side that not many people got to see.

She was known for something called “The Marilyn Monroe Effect” where she would alter herself into a persona which caught people’s eyes. Essentially, Marilyn was wearing a mask. She was a character perceived as a sex symbol by the male gaze.

In her journal entries, Marilyn wrote about loneliness. Bette Davis also said she could sense Marilyn’s loneliness when asked about the actress as she and Marilyn starred in a film together.

Another example is Rohini Sun Priscilla Beaulieu who was 14 when she met her future husband Elvis Presley who was significantly older than her. She was heavily idealized by Elvis and was deemed to have an innocence that Elvis favored. Elvis claimed that he could “train her anyway he wanted.” He ended up doing exactly that; molding her into his fantasy wife, treating her as if she was a doll. He made her dress a certain way, he made her wear makeup and told her to dye her hair and she willingly did out of love for Elvis to embody being “the perfect wife”. Once again, here’s an example of a Rohini playing a role and being shaped by those surrounding them. She also had a lot of Elvis’ fans show disdain towards her as she was dating one of the biggest stars at the time.

In the 2023 film “Priscilla” directed by Sofia Coppola, based on Priscilla’s book “Elvis and Me”, it dives into Priscilla’s backstory. The director perfectly depicts how lonely Priscilla was standing beside Elvis. Many of the scenes within this film show Priscilla being alone in a large empty house.

Rohinis often put their best foot forward to show the world and those they love much like Marilyn and Priscilla did and as a Rohini Sun myself, I can heavily relate. It would make sense for people with this nakshatra in their charts to do such since Rohini is Lunar in nature and the Moon has a mysterious and deep side; being selective as to what you present to the masses (Moon rules masses). There’s a very soft, vulnerable and somewhat melancholic side of Rohini that they possess.

It’s a very vulnerable thing to unmask and show the real and raw unfiltered self when you’re idealized by others or expected to show up a certain way, and it can be a very isolating feeling to not feel understood by anybody which is a very familiar phenomenon to those with Rohini placements. When people don't grasp your nature, thoughts and feelings, it can create a profound sense of isolation, making you feel alone even when surrounded by others, which is what I meant by in an earlier post about how Rohinis may feel alone in a room full of people. To be unknown or misunderstood is to be lonely.

[auroras-zenith]

what doesn't kill you // part 5

you had your whole life planned out for you; start an agency with your best friend, scale the charts and make japan your bitch. but when a tragic accident leaves you incapacitated and out of a job, you find you just need to start fresh. you cut ties–and for two years, you've all but disappeared. until they need you again and come knocking at your door.

bakugo x retiredpro!reader

prologue ✧ previous ✧ next

"Where are you going?"

You stilled. Your instincts were alert as ever, and yet, you couldn't whip around the way you might've had you not been in this stupid wheelchair.

"I can't tell you that." You said quietly, ears trained on who you knew to be Jirou behind you.

But turning would give her the impression that this was up for debate–and it wasn't, so you kept your head facing strictly forward.

"You won't get far."

The scoff that escaped you was angry at the surface, but mostly just hurt below that. "Who'll stop me? They don't want me anymore, Jirou."

You refused to cave, but your shoulders wilted inward slightly at the admission. "My own partner can't look at me anymore."

Her footsteps were quiet as she moved to your desk, picking up a picture frame containing an old photo of you and Bakugo.

"He's just–"

"Processing? Yeah. Shoto said the same thing. And Izuku. And Kirishima. Along with pretty much everyone else we know." You mumbled scornfully. "But you want to know what Katsuki said?"

"Nothing. He's said nothing."

She sighed, staring at your happy faces. She set the photo down.

"Fine." Moving to the door, you assumed that she was leaving.

You returned to packing, a new weight on your shoulders as you did so. "How'd you find me?" You had to know before she left.

"The same way he'll find you, the minute he comes to his senses." She shrugged, making her way to your kitchen. "I'm going to have Chamomile! You want some?" She called.

She wasn't leaving? "Wha- no?" You mumbled, confused.

The clothes in your hands were set down and forgotten once more as you hurried to make your way to her–cussing as the bulky wheelchair refused to move the way your legs used to.

"How's that? And how did you get in?" The wheels turned clumsily as you entered the room, finding her sitting on your counter next to a boiling kettle.

Purple eyes followed you, unreadable as they seemed to analyze your every move.

"You were the fourth ranked hero of Japan, L/n. You think the hero commission doesn't know where you live? I'm the nineteenth ranked hero. You think I can't get a key made?"

That... was a fair point that you had not thought of before.

Would he really change his mind?

Not that that was the point. The point was of course that you now had a new problem to consider.

"But I'm not fourth anymore. I'm just a crippled civilian, as far as the commission is concerned. As far as anyone is concerned. Once I move, their information will be outdated." You challenged with a frown.

The kettle began to whistle loudly. "I can't tell if you really believe that." She said with a shake of her head as she poured her water. "Just because you're out now doesn't mean they'll stop keeping tags on you. The only people they don't have their little hooks sunken into are the people who fought to have them removed."

Hooks of your own were being shot straight into her back–except they were more like daggers because she was so doing this on purpose.

"Dude, if you know how I can get my info wiped, just tell me."

A white cup was in her hand as she turned back around. You fought the urge to flinch.

That was his cup.

The one only he was allowed to drink out of. The one that he had gotten you a couple years ago as a gift to himself. The one that he left here for all the late nights and early mornings the two of you would need a warm glass of tea to stay awake together.

You shoved the thought away, fighting to stay present. Deal with the more important issue.

"You can't." She looked apologetic.

"Wait- what?"

"You can't." She repeated, turning back around and adding her sweetener and milk to the tea. "It... it takes rank."

Oh. Right. Rank. Rank that bestowed authority. Rank like being the fourth prohero of Japan. Rank you no longer held.

You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath. The world was making it very hard for you to run away.

You were both silent for a moment.

"You have plenty of money."

The words were quiet. Tentative. Testing the waters and offering another option.

"You don't need to work another day in your life. You have no need for hero work anyway."

Your head was shaking no before you were conscious of it. "I can't stay here Jirou." Voice shaky, it was your turn to turn away.

A loud sigh echoed through the room.

The silence that followed it was louder.

"I know."

The ceramic cup made a quiet clink as it was set on the table. Next thing you knew, warm arms enveloped you as she kneeled before you.

This time, the silence was not so abrasive. Rather, soothing.

"I'm going to get you out of here." She whispered gently in your ear, not breaking the embrace. "I'm so sorry this is happening to you. And I really, really wish that you could stay. Wish that we could've gotten to know each other better."

When she finally pulled away, the warmth she'd brought stayed with you. Her hands continued to rest on your arms as she backed away just far enough to look you in the eye.

"But I'm here to help you. You just have to trust me, okay?"

Could you really do that? In your current state? When you had just lost the person you had trusted most in the world and the scars were still so fresh?

You stared at her, searching for any sign of dishonesty or reason for mistrust in her eyes.

"Okay." You decided when you found none. You could.

a/n: sorry i missed the update yesterday 😭 ily all 🥺

taglist: @floverisland @biancatomlinson @rosaryia @highlandhyena @sarashu @rednicotine @emmaiscool22 @your-mum3000 @whoreforfictionalmen18 @sikuthealien @thefirst-ofus @harryzcherry

permanent tags: @phtmmsqrde @pikachuzhc @stabbygabyy @frosted-flakes @didibanini

[northopalshore]

🌸 Composite chart observations: romantic relationships 🪼 ♡ 🪼

‿︵‿‿︵‿‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿

╭──────────.★..─╮

In this post, I will be writing down some observations I made in composite charts between romantic partnerships. ***Contains mentions of s*x***

╰─..★.──────────╯

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊⋆ ┊ .┊

┊ ⋆˚        

✧. ┊    

⋆ ★

⋆

Aquarius (8° scorpio) rising/uranus in 1st house

Both of you are very comfortable with each other in the sense that you have found your best friend as well as a lover! People will often think you aren't a couple or even each other's type but what they don't know is that you love each other more than anyone/anything else in the world. You might surprise a lot of people, perhaps you come from starkly different backgrounds but somehow, you are together! You both will feel understood in the relationship. It gives me that 'us against the world type' type of vibe.

note: if you have aquarius rising & uranus in the 1st house together, then you may as well act very touchy, close or romantic in public because uranus in aquarius is like rebelling the rebel so to speak. You will not act like the sign you have in the 1st house if you have uranus there i.e changing the norm of how it usually is. Aquarius here becomes softer, emotional & clingy .

9th house stellium

The focus of your relationship is learning & growth. Both of you expand each other's horizons in the relationship. Your relationship could open many doors in your life. You may come from different countries, and are constantly sharing your thoughts, perspectives and philosophies with your person. You will love to talk & have debates in your relationship. You will love to travel together, your relationship could involve you having to travel a lot. You will both teach each other many new things. You could also act like teachers to the world/be actual teachers.

Part of fortune in the 8th house

You will most likely be together for a very long time i.e get married! You will both help each other heal from past trauma or fears. This is a very healing relationship. You might also receive a lot of wealth together. You will transform each other in this relationship. Whoever you were before this person will completely change after being in this relationship.

Pluto conjunct ascendant

Your entire identity will change in this relationship. You will never be the same person you once were. You could seem like a very intense, obsessive, possessive & s*xual couple.

Moon (29° leo) in 5th house

Both of you will have a lot of fun in the relationship. A lot of romance, spontaneous dates, creativity will prosper. You may feel like kids in love, a youthful romance. You could also focus a lot of your energy & feelings towards art. Perhaps you'll collaborate on something? Children could also be involved, both of you will love the idea of having kids together. S*x can be very playful and emotional. You will feel very connected to eachother during the act. You could also.. prefer to not use protection.

Fama in 1st/7th house

You could be a very popular couple, people will notice you more when you are together. People will know you as "Your person's partner". People will look up to your relationship and how you act together.

10th house stellium

A lot of your focus can go to your career in your relationship. You could very much work with your partner. You will be a very popular couple. Your relationship is very public. It could borderline a work relationship too. A power couple.

Neptune conjunct ascendant

You could very much prefer to keep your relationship private. You will both deliberately make efforts to keep the things that happen within your relationship just between each other.

Groom sextile MC

The relationship might benefit the husband/man in their career. Their work plays an important role in your relationship. They could be very career oriented/ have a public presence. They could also be very prideful of your relationship. Your relationship will boost their reputation in a way.

Briede in 4th house

The wife/woman may be a stay at home wife. They could focus a lot of their energy into homemaking, taking care of children, cooking etc.

Boda trine sun

If they are married, they had a very public wedding. Their wedding may be very well-known within their family i.e standing out from the rest of their family's previous marriages. Iconic wedding. They will both see each other as marriage material.

Boda trine moon

Their wedding may have been very memorable to them as well as their family members. There could have been a lot of crying during the ceremony. Both parties felt very connected to each other.

Boda in 1st house

They may have/will marry quite quickly. Both of you couldn't wait to get married, either that or you had to get married quickly i.e to catch a certain date you like/brings prosperity. The wedding might have been quick too maybe a little rushed or the actual event is very short.

ex: In vietnam, you have to see a sort of pyschic that will tell you lucky dates to get married on. Sometimes it's just 1-2 weeks from when you visit them!

Chiron (12° pisces) in 10th house

You might get a lot of backlash for your relationship. People may dislike seeing you together. Your career will both suffer, or you'll suffer because of your career. People could hate your relationship. Your career will cause a lot of problems in the relationship. Perhaps it will cause you to be separated often i.e one person working in another country/state.

Jupiter(15° gemini) sextile uranus in 10th house

You could be a very popular couple. You may have a big presence on social media. You could experience sudden fame in the relationship. People just love talking about you and your partner. You could be seen as a friendly, unconventional couple. People think your relationship stands out. Maybe you'll find yourself talking about your relationship more than you initially expected.

Pisces 2nd house/2nd house ruler in 12th house

Money may come up as an issue in the relationship. Not necessarily in a bad way could just mean you both idealise money a lot, you could have unrealistic perceptions around wealth, beauty, food and luxury. You could spend a lot of money traveling, it makes sense if you are from different countries too, having to use money on long-distance travels a lot. Perhaps you could earn money through selling a fantasy, an image, an ideal or dealing with mental health issues. This makes me think of a couple that owns a getaway resort in the countryside, does reflexology or work as therapists. You could also be actors, artists or directors if it aspects the 5th house or has leo degrees. You could also sell/ spend money on weed, narcotics or alcohol lol.

Neptune in 12th house

You both may be very religious/spiritual together. You both could have sensed each other's presence waaaay before you met. Could have seen each other in dreams. You could learn more about spiritually, and strengthen your psychic talents/interests. You will be very connected to each other's spiritual side. You could also feel like you can't be separated from this person. Could be a karmic soulmate/relationship. Your relationship might also prove to be confusing at times. They might have misunderstandings around each other. Open communication is very important if you have this in a composite chart with someone.

Union (26° taurus) retrograde in Sagittarius 11th house

You may have met online before meeting physically. There could have been a time gap between the time you initially see/meet each other vs first face to face meeting. This is because you could come from different countries. Taurus makes me think that you were both at home when you first interacted/were introduced. But it could also be at a mall or restaurant or any beauty related event. You can check your union persona chart or my post about it here for more information. You could also meet face to face with them at their home/ a restaurant/a beauty event later.

Eros in leo/leo° 7th house

You could be very freaky together if you know what I mean. S*x is very hot, animalistic even. It's also very romantic, both of you know/want to pleasure each other and only each other. You can both be very possessive of eachother. You could also have a breeding kink lmao. You both want people to know that only you can give your partner this type of pleasure.

Venus conjunct mars

This is a very passionate relationship. S*x, love, and intimacy are highlighted. You could feel like your partner is a great lover. Great s*x. You could feel feverish, or obsessed with each other. You might share a lot of kinks or favourite positions. You both can feel like the other person does it exactly like you wanted.

Venus conjunct Juno

The other person might fit the description of your future spouse & how you meet completely. This might as well be your future spouse! Both parties feel like they are made for eachother romantically. Both might feel like they've met the one!

Venus conjunct MC

Your romance/relationship is very public. People that work with you will all know about your relationship. This is also a power couple placement to me.

Mars (19° libra) in Scorpio

You both work very well together. Both of your energies are on par. You are very possessive of your partnership. Definitely are intense and loove getting down and dirty. Can be very obsessed with eachother's presence.

Sun (4° cancer) in Scorpio

You are both very connected to eachother spiritually, physically and emotionally. Both of you will be very focused on how your partner feels, always making sure they are loved and protected. You are also seen as very private with eachother. Keeping the things that happen in the home between the two of you.

‿︵‿‿︵‿‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿

***disclaimer: entertainment & educational content only, reader discretion is advised***

Thank you for reading⁠ ♡

@northopalshore

Meant to be used in romantic relationships only, please do not use on unconsenting individuals (celebrities, one sided crushes) Delulu is not the solulu!!

[aarchengel]

Making Her Mine

Summary: Rebekah compels Elena to reveal her feelings for you and now your trust is betrayed. Rebekah seizes this opportunity to warm up to you as she has always found you attractive. Hanging out with her escalates to a make-out session as you relish your newfound feelings for her...

Smut, angst, a lil' bit of fluff

Elena cheating on the reader, Elena slander

3K

A/N: This is the first time I've published smut. I hope it's fine (I know it's horrible) otherwise just forget this happened... do let me know if you liked it. Happy reading!

Rebekah Mikaelson X Fem!Reader

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Rebekah was dragging Stefan by the arm to the high school library and you trailed behind them, compelled to do as the Original said.

Elena, your girlfriend of two years, gasps and stands up at your arrival. "Stefan, Y/N..."

You shot her a confused look, not understanding why was she so shocked.

Rebekah shot at the brunette. "Did I say you could move?" Elena shot her an exasperated look as she slowly sat down and you moved to sit near her.

She circled you people and spoke loudly in her accented voice. "Class is in session. You know the rules. Answer my questions honestly. No disobedience, no one leaves. April, my sweet, take notes. That's how you get answers in this town."

Her gaze lingered on you, which made you feel nervous and fidgety. Sure, you didn't show it, but she was a thousand-year-old vampire who could kill you in the blink of an eye, who was currently eyeing you like a predator would do to its prey. "In the year 1114, my brother learned, thanks to yours truly, about a brother of vampire hunters with tattoos that grew with each kill. These tattoos revealed what, Elena?"

"A map" your girlfriend answered, looking down. "Which led to... Caroline?"

"A cure for vampirism."

"Perfect. So we're all caught up. Stefan Salvatore, the last time we saw each other, you had a vampire hunter. But in order to decode the map, you need the location of the hunter’s sword, which you got out of me by using some very dirty tricks. Assuming you found the sword, you also found the cure… and you’re all still vampires. Something went wrong."

She looked at April. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, you asked me to take notes."

Rebekah sighed. "Oh, I wasn't being literal, darling. But now that you mention it, a flow chart would be nice. Which means index cards and push pins. Go fetch." The teen left.

At that very moment, the blonde Original appeared oh-so-tempting to you. The way she exercised control over all of you made you feel hot all over. It has happened quite a few times before. But you were with Elena and you had no tolerance for cheaters. There was just something about Rebekah that has always piqued your interest, but then again, loyalty was the most important thing for you. No one else but Elena had a place in your heart all this time.

Stefan grew irritated and straightened up. "You're wasting your time. We don't know anything."

"So you just gave up? I thought you'd do anything to save Elena. Y/N?"

Suddenly, all eyes in the room stared at you. The tension was so thick, you though a chainsaw was needed to cut through it. You sensed something bad and grew antsy under their collective gazes. "Why are you all staring?"

No answer. "Guys...?"

Rebekah spoke again. "I'm missing something. What is it?"

No one spoke. "I asked you what happened. You have to tell me."

Finally, the younger Salvatore brother spoke. "Elena slept with Damon."

You whipped your head around to look at the mentioned brunette. Hot, white rage was all you felt thrumming in your veins. You were known for your calm demeanor and excellent control over anger, but it was getting really difficult not to claw the doppelganger's eyes out. "What is the meaning of this?!"

The doe-eyed Gilbert just looked down and spoke nothing. She knew how much your relationship meant to you. She knew that once your trust is betrayed, it's over. She knew that loyalty was the most important thing in the entire world to you. And yet she chose to disrespect you. It made you feel so pathetic. Another victim of the Petrova charm putty in the doppelganger's paws. What a bitch. Your eyes burned with hot tears, threatening to fall down. Your throat choked and tightened, making it impossible for you to say another word. No. You thought. You wouldn't shed your tears for a cheater. Tears are so precious; blood flows from the body, tears flow from the soul. Never in your entire life you had felt so insulted and betrayed. I am going to ruin them, you thought. No, I mustn't waste a moment of my life on these worthless assholes. You decided the latter was a better option. No one was as crafty and cruel as you when it came to revenge. You would be consumed by the fire of vengeance. God, you thought you sounded like you were going on a bloodbath. But that's the dark beauty of you...

You subtly took a deep breath and leaned back, your face a stone-cold mask in which even the most observant couldn't find a crack. You felt Rebekah's searing gaze in your bones. And in some way, it made you feel safe. And damn you when you didn't know why...

"So vampire Elena is a trollop who likes bad boys, but it doesn’t explain why sweet, loving, innocent Elena could be so heartless towards Y/N. How could she hurt her like that? Answer, please." The Original said, looking at Stefan.

He sighed as he spoke. "She didn't know it at the time, but she was sired to Damon."

Rebekah smirked. "A sire bond? That’s fascinating. And what do you think about that, Elena?"

Elena spat at her, "I think you’re sad. And bored. And in desperate need of a hobby."

It angered but didn't deter the blonde. She compelled the Gilbert. "You're hiding something. Fess up."

"I didn’t sleep with Damon because I’m sired. I slept with him because I’m in love with him," she spoke in such a way as if she were proud of what she'd done. That was the last straw.

"Fuck you." You spat with so much hatred and venom, that no more words were needed to convey the message: we're over. Then you spun on your heel and stormed out, carrying a kaleidoscope of emotions and the weight of Rebekah's lingering gaze.

You didn't know it at the moment, but you and Elena breaking up might just be the best thing that has happened to the Mikaelson...

It was nearly midnight, and you were at your house alone. You ate an entire tub of vanilla ice-cream, and now you were feeling guilty about it. You could have downed that bottle of Jack and Daniel hidden in your closet, but you decided you were not going to surrender to Damon's coping mechanisms.

Your room looked like a lowkey brothel, complete with silk sheets, roses, scented candles, and dim lighting. Hell, you were dressed in flimsy lace pyjamas, finding them extremely comfortable. But in your taste, it was a much-deserved self-care session.

Flipping through the pages of an erotic novel for the past hour, you got bored. It was so smutty, all the protagonists seemed to do was have sex. You grew irritated, your sex life was in shambles.

Suddenly, the bell rang. At this odd hour, you thought it would be Caroline stopping by with some ridiculously expensive cosmetics for a girl's night in, a not-so-subtle attempt of hers to comfort you. You might've hated Caroline at the moment for keeping Elena's secret, but you guessed you could live with it.

Every pore of your being protested when you rose, wrapped your robe around yourself and climbed down the stairs to open the door. The last person you were expecting to show up on your door was Rebekah Mikaelson.

Your heart skipped a beat. She looked so hot. Like get on your knees right now hot in those tight jeans and spaghetti top. For the first time ever, you could admire her classic, almost divine, beauty without any inhibitions or restrictions. For the first time, you really seemed to take her in. And gods, she was a sight for sore eyes. And damn you for wanting to bite that red lip and tear off her clothes.

You snapped out of it when she smirked. The look in her eyes made you weak in the knees. You knew that she knew of the effect she had over you.

You cleared your throat. "Rebekah, was an entirely unexpected surprise. How can I help you?"

She smiled. "Well, for starters, you could invite me inside..."

You knew it was dangerous. But you were so desperately praying for something to happen. You didn't care about the consequences. You wanted her so bad, you felt it in your bones, the desire running deep in your veins.

"Alright, would you like to come in?"

She looked surprised for a moment that you gave in so easily. But then she smiled wide and said, "I would love to." Then she stepped inside. Your heart hammered crazily in anticipation.

"Where shall I keep these?" She asked, holding up her arms. Then you noticed that she had a couple of bags looped in her arms. "I brought wine and something to munch."

You softened. "Oh, you didn't need to..."

"Oh, of course I do." She smiled softly.

You helped her with the bags to the kitchen. "Rebekah, this is a lot..." you began but she waved you off. You couldn't believe that an Original vampire was in your house in the middle of the night, who brought very costly wine and snacks to last an entire month. The blonde standing in front of you was the supposed nemesis of your friends, but what happened today was your defense.

"But why?"

"Well, that doppelganger bitch hurt you, and I was the one who meddled and you found out like this. So I guess I owed you one."

"No, no! I owe you one. I probably wouldn't have known for a longer period of time and that would've been so pathetic."

"Still... well, I hate her and you do too. So I thought that it's not such a bad idea to bond over our mutual loathing for her and maybe plot our revenge?" She said with that cute little smirk, making me laugh.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Nothing cheesy."

"You think so? Elena ought to be the cheesiest girlfriend ever."

She rolled her eyes. "Thought so,".

"Come on,"

You guided her upstairs to your bedroom, and you were really, really nervous. Your heart was beating so loudly that you knew all too well that she could hear it.

Rebekah was in a frenzy of lust and excitement. She'd dreamt of this a little too many times and now it was real. You were the loveliest creature she'd ever encountered and she thought that you were really strong, funny and protective. And she really seemed to enjoy the not-so-decent outfit you were clad in.

The blonde glanced around your room and smirked in an almost-appreciative way. You felt a bit embarrassed about your clothes and your room, but hey, we all have those moments.

You put on a thriller on your laptop as you both sat comfortably on your post bed, with a huge bowl of chips to snack on.

About an hour must have passed in comfortable silence, and your dirty thoughts were put to rest for a while too as you focused on the complex plot of the movie. Then your patience was about to be tested.

An intimate scene was displayed on the screen and you froze. You became antsy as your thighs came in contact with Rebekah's hand. The tension in the room could be cut through with a knife. Your unbridled lust and roaring desire for her was consuming you and you couldn't control yourself as you turned to face her.

She was thinking the same thing as you and your lips collided. Your tongues fought for dominance as you explored every corner of her mouth, her doing the same.

It was a passionate, rough, and all-consuming kiss that had you moaning in her mouth and both of you had your eyes closed in bliss. She cupped your face while your hands tangled themselves in her golden locks.

It was so exhilarating, and you had just kissed... you were almost scared to know where the night would lead you.

Your lungs burned for oxygen but kissing her seemed the best way to die. Finally, you parted, gasping for air.

"That was..." you began, panting.

"Amazing," she finished, holding your eyes. You leaned in for another kiss, but she beat you to it. You kissed her senseless and your hands seemed to have a mind of their own as you began undressing her. Kissing her was your new favourite thing to do.

Her lips moulded perfectly into yours. The purpose of your life was to be hers, and at that very moment, everything was forgotten. She followed your actions and undid the flimsy lace and pushed you down, making you lie down.

The two of you were completely bare as your eyes met. You could drown and die in the blue ocean of her eyes. It was like being reborn. Her eyes held a challenge, promised an adventure and you reveled in the anticipation, the thrill and in her amorousness.

She raked her eyes all over your body and your every pore, every limb shook in bliss and ecstasy. "Damn, you're gorgeous..."

You smiled in satisfaction at her words and pulled her down to mesh your lips together.

Her lips slowly moved down to your neck, kissing and biting, leaving a trail of love bites all over. Lewd, wet sounds filled your ears as you flushed. She was a heady mixture. Slowly, very slowly, she moved down to the little dent at the base of your neck, then placed ticklish, feather-light kisses on your prominent collarbone. She kissed and licked through the valley of your breasts, down to your navel and your sensitive lower stomach.

She placed kisses along your waistline, making you gasp and moan into the silk-covered pillows. Your toes curled in pleasure when you felt her hot breath fanning over your womanhood. She had barely begun and you were already dripping wet.

The blonde moved down to kiss your inner thighs. So close but not giving you what you want.

"Rebekah, please..." you pleaded with her. Her eyes were a mixture of lust and amusement. "Please what?"

"Touch me!"

"Where?" She was such a tease. You grew frustrated and you grabbed her hand and guided it between your parted thighs. A loud, throaty gasp escaped your mouth as her fingers worked their magic upon your wet, slippery folds. You almost tore the sheets your fingers were gripping and you buried your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. But you decided against it. You wanted her to hear you. You wanted her to know just how good she was making you feel. Your body was so responsive to her touches .

Just then, her fingers hit that spot and you cried out in pure pleasure. You felt the pleasure building up and the sounds leaving your mouth resonated in every nook and corner of your house.

"Do you want me to stop?" she questioned innocently, but you knew all too well. "Shut up," you barely managed to say between your uncontrollable moans.

You wanted to tell her that you were going to reach your release, but the pleasure was too much and all you could think about was how good she was.

You started shaking and almost screaming as you reached your precipice. You quite literally saw stars as you came. Rebekah's gaze upon you was that of pure worship as she licked her fingers which were coated with your arousal. Then she leaned in to kiss you deeply and you could taste yourself on her lips. "You're so pretty..." she whispered, almost as if in a daze. You smiled and grabbed her my the arms, helping her lie down.

"My turn now," you spoke, aspiring to make her feel as good as she made you feel. You pulled her in for another searing kiss as you parted her thighs. Moving down, you maintained eye contact as you stuck out your tongue and tasted her. You'd never heard anything sexier than the gasp that left her lips when you did.

Soon, your tongue circled and lapped over her folds. Her throaty moans were music to your ears. You pulled back just when she was about to reach her high, deciding to use your fingers. Her sweet moans might as well would've been heard by the neighbours as you pleasured her all night long and to the breaking of dawn.

You both lay bare barring the sheet covering you as you watched the sun rise. To you, it felt surreal and as if it were a dream.

"I've wanted this for so long," Rebekah softly confessed. "When I met you first, I thought you were really pretty, like a royal. Your wit and wordplay is unmatched. I love how strong you are, how you don't need anyone to fight for yourself and how you're so ambitious. But you were with Elena and-" you silenced her with a kiss.

"You've no idea for how long I've wanted this too. But I'm afraid that with the arrival of the dawn, I'd wake up and all of this would be nothing but a dream." You spoke softly.

"Trust me, your screams last night were very real,"

You laughed as you kissed her. She pulled you into her arms for another round. And sure enough, the hickeys covering you were very real...

[alchemistc]

won't make my mama proud

read on ao3

Buck's just gonna say it. He's not gonna be cagey about it. He's not gonna make it weird. Everyone important doesn't need an announcement, they'll - they'll see him, and they'll understand, and Buck will get to enjoy himself.

His parents are the wildcard.

"E- Buck," his mom starts, brow furrowed as she looks at the seating chart. She's getting better at catching herself, and it's small fries but it's not nothing. "Why did George get moved to table seven?"

He'd been a little giddy, sitting at Maddie's kitchen table with the seating chart out, the tips of his ears bright red and the smile refusing to leave his face, basking in the little hip-shake arm-wave dance Maddie'd done when he asked if she could fit a plus one in.

Buck honestly couldn't remember who they'd moved to make it work, but it'd made the most sense - Tommy knew Bobby and Athena, he knew Karen and Eddie and Marisol, he wouldn't have to sit with a table of strangers who didn't even know a "George" anyway.

His mom's eyes flit to the extended family table, where Tommy has been tucked in between Eddie and Denny. He'd made the place card himself, intent to match the script from the printers, tongue sticking out as he swooped the 'Y' out in gold Sharpie on a piece of leftover cardstock cut to match.

"Uh - I'm bringing a date, after all," Buck says, and he watches his mom slide through names, a mental list of people she vaguely knows of. The Marisol thing had been a point of contention - extended family meant family to Margaret and Phillip Buckley, and they'd already made an exception to let Chim include Eddie and his son at that particular table. They'd acted like the relationship to the bride and the groom was going to be hovering over the top of each table. So. She knows the name Marisol. She knows Athena and Bobby. Knows Karen.

The list of potential dates is growing smaller by the minute and clearly it's not computing.

He's just gonna rip the bandaid off. "His name is Tommy. My date."

Once upon a time, he'd have taken an opportunity like this to make sure he was the center of fucking attention for as long as he possibly could be. Maybe drive home the point that his parents didn't know him as well as they claimed they did. Definitely press their buttons, see if he could invite a reaction out of them.

Now he waves off his mother's confused silence. "I already ran it by Maddie and Chim, they know him." Sort of. It's too complicated to explain to his parents, right now. Maybe if the dancing goes well, at the reception. Maybe once he's snuck about fifty more kisses in.

"Buck, you can't bring a friend as a plus one to your sister's wedding."

He doesn't see why not, really, but that's - very much not the point. Oh. Oh yeah, that's a little painful. He gets why Tommy'd slammed the brakes, now, when he'd stuck his foot in it.

"Good thing he's my date, then, mom."

Even after all this time, he always feels like he's one bad interaction away from laying into his parents, but he tempers it. This isn't really about him, or them. This is about Maddie's wedding, which is two days away and doesn't need the distraction of the brides family having it out. Again.

"What do you mean?" she asks, and - her defensive voice always sounds like she's expecting a direct attack, teeth at her jugular and she's too frail to stop it. He's always hated the way she does that, because it always makes her sound like the victim of a heinous crime when half the time she's just trying to deny something she's been accused of.

Buck takes a deep breath through his nose. "Tommy. He's my date to the wedding. Once we've all eaten and toasted at the reception he'll be the one I'm getting drinks for, he'll be the one I'm introducing to Maddie's work friends, he'll be the one I'm dancing with." He'll be the one I'm going home with, Buck doesn't say, even if he really fucking wants to. He'd gotten a dick pic for the first time last night that had rocked his entire fucking world and he's very ready to explore the realities of finally understanding he's attracted to the male form in a sexual way.

She goes through what seems like all the stages of grief at once. Not unexpected, but still kinda shitty to witness. But she's - they're both better. His parents are trying. He'll give them that. She shores up a PTA mom smile.

"Oh. I didn't know you... Well I just didn't know."

"It's new," he says, because now doesn't feel like the time to tell her he's been analyzing old friendships for weeks now, that his penchant for trying to create deep bonds with men he admires has taken on a new meaning to him. He doesn't want to get into the conversation he'd had with Tommy two nights ago, Tommy laughing but understanding as Buck regaled him with the tale of how he'd followed the varsity kicker around like a lost puppy for most of his junior year and he'd only just figured out why. "Tommy used to work at the 118, though, so he's not exactly a stranger."

He doesn't really feel like giving her more than that. It's new to him, too, it's new and fragile and it's settling warm in his gut, this feeling like he finally knows the way to make a proper chili is to add some unsweetened cocoa powder. The recipe works without it but it was never quite right, until the secret ingredient got thrown in.

"You'll have to introduce us," his mom says, and Buck thinks about it - about the way Tommy will internalize the confused looks his parents try to hide, and the way Buck will want to curl tighter around him because of it, the way he'll want to shrink under the force of his parents never quite getting him and how he knows, he knows Tommy won't let him shrink.

"Yeah," he says, and his mind goes back to thinking of Tommy in a suit.

Tommy with a button undone that turns into three by the third song, Tommy fiddling with cufflinks, Tommy with suspenders, Tommy's ass in a pair of crisp tapered trousers. Buck wonders if he's an ankle sock with dress shoes guy.

His mom turns back to her trove of little gift bags, plastic crinkling as she ties another finished one off. He's - it feels a bit like he's waiting for a shoe to drop, sitting there next to her as her hands continue to pull jute twine from its roll in even six inch lengths, cutting them, twisting bags and tying them off.

Their hands meet the next time he slides a pile of filled bags over to her -- a bubble jar, three Jordan almonds, four Kisses, a quarter inch of crinkle paper on the bottom. Buck goes to move his hand back and her soft, wrinkled hand reaches out to pat his knuckles before she returns to her twine.

-----

He picks up Tommy's call when he's halfway home. "Hey," he says, and he knows Tommy can hear the smile in his voice. He can't bring himself to care.

"Hey. Did you already eat at your sisters?"

"No, my parents took Jee out to dinner so Maddie and Chim could have the night before Maddie imposes her weird twenty-four hour no contact rule."

"You Buckley's," Tommy says, and there's something fond in his voice that makes Buck's heart squeeze, just a bit. "I know I'll see you tomorrow night, but I thought, if you're not busy --."

"I'm not busy," Buck interrupts, and Tommy's little chuff of a laugh echoes back at him.

"Maybe I'm about to ask you to detail my truck for me."

Buck's still trying to find the right way to word his thoughts about armor-all and gear shafts when Tommy cuts across them.

"Low hanging fruit, Evan," he warns, even though he can't have possibly known what Buck was thinking.

"I was thinking about the twig, not the berries," Buck shoots back, and Tommy groans.

"You have sufficient evidence not to call it a twig."

"Which is why I was trying to compare it to the gear shift, before you derailed that train of thought."

"Do you wanna come over for dinner or not, Evan Buckley?"

Buck taps his thumbs on the steering wheel, does a little jig in his seat, tries not to smile so wide that he scares the driver next to him as he coasts to a stop at a red light.

"Are the berries on the menu?"

"The stick shift too, if you're lucky."

"This metaphor is getting a little murky."

"If you wanted to stop for shitty burgers I wouldn't mind," Tommy admits, voice softening, and Buck is already trying to plot out the best route to In-N-Out from here to Tommy's. "If you think of a way to make an Animal Style innuendo you are not getting into my pants tonight."

"I'll stick with the hot meat puns, then."

Tommy laughs, bright and loud, goofy like he can't quite control it, and Buck settles into his seat, flipping his blinker to get into the turn lane so he can double back a few blocks.

"You far enough away I can hop in the shower without telling you where I keep my hide-a-key?"

"Yeah, but maybe you should tell me anyway."

Tommy hums, and something settles under Buck's skin when Tommy gives him a frankly ridiculous set of instructions that no first responder is ever gonna follow in an emergency when they could just kick the door in, dispatch instructions be damned.

It's far too early in this, but Buck's pretty sure he's deep enough in this that it wouldn't weird him out if Tommy told him to keep the spare. He doesn't, and Buck doesn't mind, but it's there, in the back of his mind, that feeling like they're both in this for the long haul.

"Hey, I told my mom you're coming as my plus one," Buck says into the comfortable silence that drifts over the line. Tommy knows the bare minimum about his family, really, but he knows that's significant all the same.

"How did that...go?" And Buck keeps forgetting that Tommy wasn't always confidently out, that he's experienced the coming out conversation with a lot worse results than Buck's experienced, so far.

"She was mostly weirded out that you made George move to table seven," Buck jokes, because he's not sure he's fully unpacked how he feels about it yet, and Tommy - Tommy gets that.

"If I'm stepping on toes, I don't mind sitting with all the weird singles and estranged aunts, Evan," Tommy assures, for the twentieth time.

"You're sitting with the people I want you to be sitting with," Buck reminds him, and hopes he understands the part of that that Buck doesn't know how to say out loud yet.

"Noted," he says, that same tone as when he met Buck for coffee, a few weeks ago now, the weight of understanding the things between the lines.

"Go shower," Buck tells him, and tries not to let his imagination run too wild at the thought. "I'll see you in a bit."

Tommy doesn't immediately respond, and Buck can imagine him on the other side of the call, debating whether or not to make the dumb joke about detailing his gear stick himself. He clearly has better impulse control than Buck. "See you soon," he says after a beat, and hangs up before Buck can draw him back in.

[redroomreflections]

A New World: A Mom for Hugs

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Child!Reader

Summary: Bunny is beginning to understand what it means to have a mom.

No trigger warnings I think. Will probably pull at the heartstrings. This is for anon bestie who asked for it.

in the sixteen candles universe available on a03

w/c: 2k

Life in Westview had settled into a gentle rhythm, a mix of routines and quiet moments that Natasha and Wanda had carefully created for their little family. It was an adjustment for the two of them to be the best parents they could be for the girls. It hadn’t been easy, but after months of hard work, the house now felt like a true home—a place where Faith and Bunny could finally start to heal.

Bunny had been officially diagnosed with selective mutism not long after she and Faith moved in. Natasha and Wanda had suspected as much from the start, but the confirmation helped them understand their new daughter better. It explained the way Bunny would retreat into herself, the way her voice seemed to get stuck somewhere deep inside. With the help of a kind therapist, Bunny was slowly learning to navigate her world, and both girls were making progress, however gradually.

The house had adapted too. Visual charts and schedules were now a part of their everyday life—bright, colorful guides that hung in the kitchen and hallways, providing structure and a sense of security. At first, they’d been meant for Bunny, to ease her anxiety and help her know what to expect each day. But over time, Natasha and Wanda noticed that Faith had started to rely on them as well. Whether it was checking off tasks on the morning chart or quietly using the emotion wheel, both girls found comfort in the predictability and order these tools brought.

"Make a space for her that is only her own," The therapist had recommended. "Let her know it's where she can go if she's scared, afraid or needs time alone." She reminded them. "Always respect that boundary if she doesn't want anyone there."

So in Bunny’s bedroom, they’d set up a small tent in one corner—a soft, cozy space filled with her favorite stuffed animals, blankets, and a tiny lantern. It was Bunny’s sanctuary, a place where she could retreat when the world felt too big. Wanda had spent countless hours in there with her, just sitting quietly, offering silent reassurance whenever Bunny needed it.

Faith had her own way of coping. She was more independent, spending hours reading or doing homework in her room. But she was never truly far from Bunny. Natasha had noticed how Faith would hover, always watching, always ready to step in if Bunny needed her. It was a role Faith had taken on long before they arrived in Westview—a protective older sister, who had learned too early how to shield her little sister from the world’s harshness. Wanda often found herself watching the girls, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and sadness.

She couldn't believe she got to bear witness to such a pure and innocent relationship. It was much like her own and reminded her of the times she and Pietro were practically attached at the hip.

It was a beautiful thing to watch, and Natasha and Wanda tried their best not to interrupt, unless it was time for dinner or bed.

Some days, Bunny liked to help in the garden. It was one of her favorite things—stepping out onto the soil with bare feet, feeling the earth beneath her toes. She’d spend hours digging in the dirt, searching for worms or hidden treasures, completely absorbed in her little world. Natasha quickly realized that despite her sensitivity, Bunny was fearless about everyday things. The girl would fearlessly pick up earthworms, let ladybugs crawl on her hand, and splash in muddy puddles without a second thought.

“These things don’t hurt like people do,” Bunny had once said quietly, holding up a wiggling worm for Natasha to see.

The words had hit Natasha hard. They made sense, of course, but hearing them out loud from someone so young was a painful reminder of the life Bunny had known before coming here. Natasha had nodded, kneeling in the dirt beside her, and gently patted her shoulder. “No, they don’t,” she had agreed, her voice soft. “And they never will.”

Bunny’s simple observation had lingered with Natasha. It was clear that Bunny was beginning to make sense of her world, finding safety in the quiet, predictable things like the garden. There, she could be herself—fearless, curious, and free from the weight of her past.

As the day wound down and the evening sky darkened, the girls went through their bedtime routine—Faith brushing her teeth while Bunny carefully picked out a book for the night. Wanda read to them, her voice soft and soothing, as the girls settled under their covers. The house was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of blankets and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.

Bunny woke with a start. She blinked around the room as her hands swept across the sheets blindly. She grabbed at the purple elephant clutching it to her chest. Her back was sweaty and she felt immensely hot. She tried to catch her breath as she sat up.

Usually, when she had night terrors she would run to Faith's room and crawl under the covers. She would force herself into the older girl's arms until she scared the nightmares away. Bunny loved her big sister for that. This time though she wanted more.

She pushed back the covers and slid off her bed. The floor was cool on her bare feet as she walked quietly towards the door. She opened it as softly as she could. The hallway was dark and her heart pounded in her chest. She took a few steps, the plush carpet silencing her footsteps.

The door to Natasha and Wanda's bedroom was cracked. Bunny paused. It was quiet and dark in there. She could tell both women were sleeping. She debated on whether or not she was allowed inside the bedroom. No matter how many times they assured her she was she just couldn't do it. She stood there, her hand reaching for the door.

Her hand hovered over the handle and her breath hitched in her throat. She padded over to Wanda's side of the bed. Her knees sank into the carpet and her fingers clutched the edge of the comforter. Her face was close to Wanda's. The woman's breathing was even. Her red hair was strewn across her pillow. Bunny took a shaky breath and leaned over, pressing her hand against the woman's shoulder.

Wanda stirred. She turned her head towards the girl, blinking. She had half a mind to be surprised by the child, but she knew better than to let it show. She'd gotten used to the occasional night visitor. "Hi, honey." She tried to see Bunny's face through the darkness. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Bunny frowned. She wanted to speak and tell Wanda all of her fears. Instead, she signed. It's another thing they'd been practicing extensively for moments like this. "I can't sleep."

"Oh." Wanda sat up. "Did you have a bad dream?"

The little girl nodded and bit her lip. She didn't want to talk about her dreams. She was scared to think about them.

"Well, how about I come and sit with you for a while?" Wanda suggested. She glanced behind her to see Natasha still asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, even though she probably wouldn't mind, Wanda threw the covers from her body and sat up straight. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms.

Bunny's heart swelled with hope.

Wanda looked down and reached for the girl's hand. "Come on, let's go get a glass of water and we can sit in the living room." As they began to walk, Bunny tugged at her arms.

"I have to pee first," Bunny said quietly. Her voice croaked, filled with sleep and lack of use.

Wanda chuckled. "Okay, sweetie. Then we'll get a glass of water." Wanda stood outside of the bathroom, one leg crossed in front of the other as she waited. She eyed the hallway, wondering if Faith was having just as much trouble as her sister, when her thoughts were interrupted by the flushing of the toilet.

The door opened and Bunny appeared, rubbing her tired eyes. She held the woman's hand as they walked to the kitchen. Wanda poured them each a cup of water.

"I'm sorry," Bunny whispered, her voice cracking. "For waking you up."

"That's okay, Bunny. You know I don't mind," Wanda said softly, handing her a cup. "I'm here whenever you need me."

Bunny drank from her water cup, downing it as if her life depended on it. She passed Wanda the cup and waited patiently for their next steps.

"Do you wanna tell me what your dream was about?" Wanda asked, leading the girl into the living room.

Bunny shook her head. She sat beside Wanda on the couch and looked over at her expectantly. Wanda could see that the little girl was exhausted. She wished she kept better track of how the little one was sleeping.

"Okay," Wanda sighed. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She looked over the girl and watched her shoulders droop. "Do you want to come over and sit in my lap? I heard it's pretty comfy."

Bunny grinned and nodded. She climbed into Wanda's lap and buried her head into the woman's neck. Wanda could feel the warm breath on her neck and her heart clenched. She dared to raise a hand and run her hair over Bunny's head. The girl's hair was a mess, tangling in the woman's fingers. It wasn't often she'd let anyone touch her hair so they made do with the times she would allow Faith to run a comb through it. It was almost time again.

Bunny seemed to enjoy the physical contact. She reveled in Wanda's warmth. Her body was tired, but she couldn't sleep. She didn't want to.

"Are you scared?" Wanda whispered, her fingers gently playing with the tail end of Bunny's braid.

Bunny's nod was hesitant.

"What are you scared of, my love?" Wanda kissed her temple.

"I don't want the mean people to take me away from you." Bunny admitted. "I want you to keep being my Mama."

"Oh, baby." Wanda wrapped her arms around her tighter. "I will keep being your Mama for a very long time." It wasn't often Bunny used that title. Faith never. Wanda's heart never failed to soar whenever she heard Bunny call either one of them those words.

"Promise?" Bunny lifted her head and looked up at her.

"I promise, honey." Wanda cupped her cheek and wiped a stray tear. "There's no getting rid of me."

"At my old house, my mama didn't sit with me after I had a nightmare," Bunny said. There was no emotion in her voice. It's simply a fact for her. She was telling Wanda something she knew and she was expecting her to understand. "Only Faith."

Wanda nodded. "I will sit with you after every nightmare."

"You don't get mad when I don't talk," Bunny spoke again. Another fact for her. "Even though it's hard."

"Of course, I don't." Wanda kissed the top of her head. "What emotion are you feeling right now? Can you tell me?"

Bunny scrunched her nose, her eyebrows pulled together. "I don't know."

"Is it a good one or a bad one?" Wanda asked, hoping to help the girl identify her emotions.

"Happy," Bunny answered.

"Happy," Wanda repeated. She hadn't expect that answer.

"I'm happy because I get to be with you," Bunny explained. "Riley has a Mama that hugs her all the time. Whenever she wants."

Wanda smiled. She'd met Riley, one of the few kids Bunny was willing to play with. Bunny nuzzled deeper into Wanda's arms.

"Mama."

"Yes, Bunny?"

"Can you do your magic?" Bunny asked. She noticed Wanda's hesitation. "I want to see."

Wanda grinned and held up her hand. Red wisps appeared.

Bunny was mesmerized by the sight. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen. She watched, her mouth gaping open as the wisps danced around her fingers. It was warm and inviting. "Riley's mama can't do that." She said.

"No, she can't," Wanda whispered.

Bunny's eyes drooped and her breathing became more even. She rested her head on Wanda's chest and her hands gripped her shirt.

"Sleepy?"

"I think so," Bunny mumbled.

"Do you wanna try going back to bed?" Wanda offered.

"No," Bunny shook her head.

"Okay, let's stay here for a little bit," Wanda said. "And when you're ready, we can go back to bed."

Bunny nodded.

Wanda began to stroke Bunny's arms, slowly rocking her, soothing whatever fears she had. The girl was nearly asleep and Wanda could have sworn she heard her hum in delight.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually, Bunny's breathing had evened out. Wanda looked down to see the girl fast asleep, her mouth hanging open. She smiled to herself, her heart feeling full. So this is what true love felt like.

[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

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|| 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.

[wandering-pirate]

When the moon fades, the stars guide

Part 1

Part two of "How does a moon lose its shine?"

Summary: When the chaos went down, what led up to it? And what will happen next in the dark, metal casements of the Tulpar?

Pairing: Father figure! Swansea x reader

a/n: ask and you shall receive~ thanks for y'all's patience!!

Trigger warning: Depictions of sexual abuse and violence. There are no explicit scenes of the rape itself but the trauma and experience of y/n is very much described. Please take care of yourselves while reading <3<3

Day of Departure

The Tulpar’s engines hummed steadily, a sound you came to think of as the freighter’s heartbeat. Three years on this ship, and it started to feel like a second skin at this point. But still, every haul gives you that faint, familiar buzz of excitement, like the thrill of stepping into something bigger than yourself. Responsibility.

You leaned against the inventory console, triple-checking your clipboard. Rows of numbers and codes blurred together, but the satisfaction of seeing everything in order made the strain worth it.

"So, you’re the famous Y/N," a voice chirped behind you.

You turned to find Daisuke, the new mechanic intern that Curly told the crew about. He looked barely out of his teens, his uniform covered with a bright yellow hawaian-patterned shirt that he somehow managed to smuggle and had a grin a little too wide. Newbie's buzz, you thought.

"And you’re the new grease monkey," you teased, extending a hand.

"Mechanic-in-training," he corrected, shaking your hand with exaggerated seriousness. "Big difference."

Swansea scoffed from the other side of the utility room, tinkering away with a coolant valve. "Big talk for a kid who just learned what a carburetor is."

"I thought it was a coffee maker for cars," Daisuke mumbled to you, pouting.

Biting back a laugh, you shot Swansea a grin that practically dared him to roll his eyes. He didn’t disappoint.

Jimmy entered the room, clipboard in hand. His presence had always been grounding, his confidence infectious. He nodded at you as he passed. "Inventory’s in good hands, as usual."

"As if you’d trust anyone else," you replied, your tone light but your chest warming at the compliment. He smirked, tapping the clipboard.

The ship’s intercom crackled to life. "Alright, folks," Curly’s voice boomed. "Buckle up, we're launching at five."

Your hand froze on the console. No matter how many times you’d done this, the Tulpar's jump during the launch always lit something in you. The co-pilot once commented how you're like a puppy with a treat dangling in front of you.

As a kid, you’d been obsessed with the idea of outer space. Not in a “memorizing star charts” kind of way, but in a way where you just admired them every night that you gazed at the night sky.

Whenever you see pictures of galaxies, stars, or any heavenly body, it was like looking at something familiar, something that made sense to you. The outer space wasn’t just an escape; it was home.

Anya appeared at your side, her medical bag slung over one shoulder. She flashed a small smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Let me guess," she said, her voice relaxed. "Gonna watch the Earth fade away again, huh?"

"Every. Damn. Time." You nudged her playfully, earning a laugh.

"Swansea's really rubbing on you with those words."

When the Tulpar lurched, you gripped the edge of the console, your gaze already flicking toward the viewport. For a moment, the universe stretched out in every direction, infinite and vast. You couldn’t help the grin on your face.

Out here, it all felt right. The stars, the ship, the crew… they all came together in a way that felt as natural as breathing. For now, at least, you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

One Month After the Crash

When you thought things were about to get better the night you broke down, helpless, at the lounge... you were desperately wrong. Somehow, the man who betrayed you, the monster you treated as a friend, a mentor—hell, even family—claimed Curly's title and is set loose.

And now? You were cowering at the corner of the utility room, covering your ears as the voices outside grew louder with every passing minute. Funny how one voice made you gag and the other made you feel secure.

“Come on, Swansea. I told you, I’m not gonna hurt Y/N, alrig—”

“If you’ve got a death wish,” Swansea’s voice, low and bristling, cut through the tension. “Keep yappin’.”

It had been a month. A month of watching your back. A month of slipping between rooms, dodging Jimmy’s shadow, a sick game you were forced to play with him. But it was also a month of being under the mechanic’s wing, always having him or Daisuke by your side when checking inventories, because almost facing your deaths just days ago wasn’t enough reason to stop your job. Or being in the locked medbay with Anya when both your guards were busy.

“Look, I just wanna make things right,” Jimmy said, his tone too smooth, too practiced. “Curly’s out of commission, and now, as captain, it’s my job to take responsibility for what I’ve done.”

For a second, your stomach twisted at the pause. Would Swansea actually believe him? Could he? You strained to hear the older man’s reply, then there it was.

It started weak, the soft wheezing sounds went through the metal wall. It grew louder, rougher, until it was a full-blown, bitter laugh that rattled the air. Guilt filled your chest—why would you even ever doubt him after all he's done?

"What a fuckin' joke. Know what? If yer that desperate to play captain, wanna tell me how the ol' Tulpar really crashed?"

Silence. Not even a breath from Jimmy. Then, heavy, angry stomps faded down the hall.

For a solid ten minutes, you stayed frozen, your pulse loud in your ears. The air in the utility room felt thick, clinging to your skin. Then the door hissed open.

“That roach’s got some nerve,” Swansea muttered, stepping inside. His face was carved with exhaustion, but his sharp eyes softened when he met yours. He offered a tired smile, and you returned it, grateful.

"You shouldn’t be out here," Swansea grumbled, his eyes scanning the corridor as he steered you back toward the medbay.

"I’m fine." You tried evading him, but given his bouncer-like body, he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Sure, and I’m the swan princess from that pink doll kid's show."

The Tulpar floated through infinite space, a shell of its former self. It wasn’t one of those massive freighters like the newer ones Pony Express had, but a running old freighter is infinitely better than a broken old freighter. Supplies were low, tensions were high, and the Tulpar's once-familiar corridors felt more like a prison than home.

When the asteroid hit, or so Jimmy claimed, Curly had supposedly saved everyone by making a split-second turn to minimize the impact. It was a story that gave the crew a shred of hope, something to hold on to.

But cracks already started to form in Jimmy’s tale. The damage didn’t match the trajectory of any known asteroid paths. The ship’s logs were corrupted, erasing any evidence of what really happened.

It wasn't farfetched to believe that Jimmy didn't stay put at his quarters when the crash happened.

Swansea has his suspicions. So did you. But neither of you said it out loud. The truth was a dangerous thing aboard the Tulpar now, fragile and very explosive, just waiting for the right moment to destroy whatever was left.

"Kid," Swansea’s voice broke through your thoughts. You hummed, "Don’t go doin’ that thing where you stare off into space like a lost puppy."

You managed a weak smile. "Can’t help it. Space is kinda my thing."

He snorted, but his eye-roll was absent. He didn’t let you go until he was sure you were back in the medbay, under Anya’s watchful eye and the door's lock.

2 Months before the Crash

Jimmy’s compliments had always felt harmless. You were used to his jokes, his easy smiles, and the way he called you "kid". It was comforting, in a way - until recently.

"Nice shirt," he said one day, leaning casually against the inventory shelves as you logged spare parts into the system.

You glanced down at your standard-issue disgustingly yellow t-shirt, streaked with dust and grease from helping Swansea earlier. "Uh, thanks? Didn’t know grease-stained chic was trending."

He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "You pull it off, though."

You gave him a half-smile, feeling like the co-pilot has something more to say than he's letting on. His tone felt... heavier. You chalked it up to overthinking and turned back to your work. Jimmy was your friend, someone you’d always trusted.

But somehow, the comments became more frequent, more pointed. A hand on your shoulder lingered too long. Always looking at you when he laughs.

The next time it happened, you were helping the mechanic in the engine room. You crouched next to him, handing over tools as he muttered under his breath about "cheap replacement parts." The rhythmic clank of the wrench echoed in the space while Daisuke watched because the last time he helped replace something, he had to receive 3 stitches from Anya.

"Careful not to scratch the paint off," you teased, smirking.

Swansea snorted, rolling his eyes. "Look who's talkin', Ms. 'I-can-make-any room-look-like-a-fukin' junkyard' with all the shit you leave laying around."

"Ha! Boss' got you there Y/N!" You poked your tongue out at the intern.

Swansea gave you a sideways glance, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You wanna talk about paint? Maybe start by remembering where you put all yer inventory sheets before I have to staple ‘em to yer forehead."

You laughed, wiping your hands on your coveralls, when Jimmy walked in. His gaze lingered too long as he leaned against the doorway.

"Got the inventory finished?" he asked, his voice casual.

"Mostly," you said. "Swansea needed a hand, so I figured I’d multitask."

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed briefly, just a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. His smile returned, too quick to feel natural. "You’re a real team player, kid."

Swansea grunted in agreement, not looking up. "She’s handy, I’ll give her that. Saved me a headache with these damn filters."

"Hey! I'm here, to--"

"Tell me what happened to yer forehead with just a screwdriver, boy." That seemed to silence Daisuke up.

Jimmy’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping the edge of the doorframe, though he quickly masked it with a chuckle. "Better not let her show you up, old man."

"Not a chance," Swansea shot back, oblivious to the tension.

But you felt it. The way Jimmy’s smile didn’t match his eyes, the way his presence filled the room like static. Something about it was off. You wanted to brush it aside, but the feeling lingered.

Later, in the lounge, Curly tossed you a cup of coffee. "Heard you’ve been pulling double duty with the inventory and the utility. You gunning for my job or what?"

You smirked, shaking your head. "Dream bigger, Curly. I’m aiming for Swansea’s."

Curly laughed, but his attention shifted behind you for a moment. You glanced over your shoulder to see Jimmy standing in the doorway again, watching. His posture was casual, but his knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the counter.

When you turned back, Curly raised an eyebrow. "Jimmy’s been hovering a lot lately. You notice that?"

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. "He’s probably just bored."

But deep down, you weren’t so sure. You sipped your coffee, forcing a laugh. "One more compliment from him? I’m charging him rent."

Curly chuckled, but his smile faded slightly as he glanced at Jimmy again. "You should tell him that. See what he says."

You smiled weakly, staring into your coffee as the unease settled in your chest.

One Month Before the Crash

Jimmy’s words echoed in your ears, wrapping around your thoughts like a noose.

"I don’t want to hurt you," he said, his voice trembling, his breath uneven. "But I can’t stop thinking about you."

You remembered the way his hands shook, how his eyes flitted between you and the walls, never meeting yours. He looked like he wanted to convince himself as much as you. But it wasn’t the shaking or his words that lingered in your mind, it was the suffocating fear, the way the air in the room thickened, pressing down on your chest until you couldn’t breathe.

You fought back, kicked, punched, scratched, used everything in your disposal, but it wasn't enough.

In that moment, the world felt unrecognizable. The Jimmy you looked up to, trusted, and even laughed with, was gone. Or maybe he had never been real.

And you felt something within you... break.

You didn’t cry. Not then. The betrayal was too sharp, cutting through your chest like shards of glass. You couldn’t feel anything but the raw, jagged edges of shock and pain. It was never-ending, it was unforgiving.

Later, when it was over and the room was silent again, you sat on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the dull metal wall. The memories replayed in your head, over and over, a loop you couldn’t escape.

"Why didn’t I stop him?"

"Why didn’t I fight harder?"

"Why didn’t I say something?"

The questions bit you, each one sinking its sharp fangs deeper into your guilt, into your body, mind, and soul.

Jimmy’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. You remembered how he sat across from you, his voice low and soft, as though he were the one wounded.

"I didn’t mean for it to go like this," he’d said, his tone almost pleading. "You don’t have to hate me, you know? I care about you. I just… I just couldn’t hold it in anymore."

Each word sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you. The confusion was unbearable. Was he sorry? Or was this another lie? Another betrayal? It didn’t matter. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him or yourself anymore.

And from that night on, everything you loved about your life on the ship, the crew, the stars outside your window, even your own reflection, felt like it died.

You went through the days like a ghost. Your laughter was gone, replaced by silence. Meals went untouched. The inventory, your pride and responsibility, piled up unchecked.

The crew noticed. How Swansea’s gruff teasing didn’t make you laugh anymore. How Daisuke’s bad jokes only entered your ear and exited the other. And every time Jimmy walked into the room, your body froze, your skin crawling as though his gaze alone could trap you again.

Anya, however, never pried. She saw through the silence, the robotic movements, the emptiness in your eyes.

One evening, she's nursing you. You sat on the cot, staring at the floor, your hands limp in your lap. You passed out from hunger earlier and Dasiuke had to carry you to the medbay, sweating and frantically assuring himself more than anyone through panicked mumbles.

She approached quietly, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand. "Y/N," she said softly, placing the tray beside you.

You didn’t respond.

Anya pulled up a chair and sat down across from you, her gaze steady. "You have to eat."

"I’m not hungry," you murmured, your voice flat.

She didn’t push. Instead, she reached out, her hand resting gently on your arm. Her warmth cut through the cold numbness you’d wrapped yourself in.

"You know, it’s okay to feel like this," she said quietly. Her tone wasn’t pitying, just kind. "But you don’t have to do it alone."

You didn’t react. You couldn’t. Her words were like waves breaking against a stone, unable to reach its core.

Anya stayed with you anyway. She talked softly, about nothing in particular, old stories, small jokes, telling you how Daisuke stole Swansea's snacks and having to say I'm sorry for a hundred times as punishment. She didn’t expect you to respond. She was simply there, filling the silence with her presence.

Even when you retreated deeper into yourself, Anya never gave up. She left food by your workstation, tidied your quarters when you weren’t looking, and covered for you when Curly asked too many questions.

One night, as Anya walked you back to your quarters, she stopped just outside your door. Her voice, usually gentle, held a weight you hadn’t heard before.

"Y/N," she began carefully, "I’ve been where you are."

Your steps faltered. The numbness you carried didn’t lift, but her words sent a faint ripple through the sea of numbess. You kept your gaze fixed on the floor, your hand tightening on the doorknob.

"I know what Jimmy did to you," she continued softly.

The air in the hallway felt suddenly heavy. Anya hesitated, then added, "It happened to me too. Weeks ago."

The words were like a thunderclap in your mind, sharp and deafening. You turned to her, your eyes wide with disbelief.

"You knew?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, raw and cracking. Anya went through the same thing yet here she is, stronger than you, caring for you. Your stomach churned in guilt. "You—why didn’t you tell anyone? Tell me?"

Anya’s expression didn’t falter, but her shoulders tensed as though she’d been bracing for this. "I told Curly," she admitted, her voice quiet but steady. "But… nothing changed."

Nothing changed.

The words hit like a sledgehammer, shattering the fragile threads of hope you’d been clinging to. Your chest tightened as anger and despair fought for control.

"You told him," you whispered, the words trembling with a pain that reached far deeper than you’d let anyone see.

Anya didn’t look away. She didn’t try to explain or justify it. "I thought it would help," she said, her tone even. "I thought it would stop."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, sharp and hollow. "And now it’s my turn, right? Cap kept quiet and hoped it wouldn’t happen again?"

"Y/N--"

"Now what, Anya?" You snapped, your voice rising despite the lump in your throat. "What was the point of telling him if it didn’t change anything? He was supposed to be the captain, he was supposed to protect his crew. And no it didn’t stop tha--"

Your words broke off as your breath hitched. The weight of it all, Jimmy’s betrayal, Curly’s silence, Anya’s quiet endurance, crashed down on you like a tidal wave.

Anya reached out, her hand brushing against your arm, but you pulled away.

"I can’t—" you choked out, shaking your head as tears blurred your vision. "Sorry Anya, can I be alone for a moment? Please, don't look for me."

The hallway felt too small, the air too thick. You stumbled back, your legs moving on instinct as you fled toward the lounge, where the empty silence swallowed you whole.

This was where it all unravelled like a predator ripping meats of its prey piece by agonizing piece.

The knife in your trembling hand, the memories replaying in your mind, the feeling of the world collapsing around you, all of it led back to this moment. To the truth you could no longer ignore.

The one person you thought could protect you knows - and he did nothing.

Two Months After the Crash

The cargo bay was dimly lit, the faint hum of the ship's remaining systems filling the silence.

Jimmy had been relentless over the past week, pestering Swansea to let him talk to you about the cargo. Why? Well unlike any other facilities of the freighter that's unlocked by codes visible through the Captain's flashlight, the cargo bay can only be unlocked by a code held by two crewmembers - the captain and inventory officer. Obviously, with Curly laying helpless in the medbay, Jimmy only had one person left to disturb. And the man grabbed the opportunity to talk to you again.

Exhausted, that’s what you were. Tired of Jimmy's persistence, of how he kept shifting from casual then cutting sharper the next. And all these bugging went straight to Swansea. As much as you didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction, you knew there was no way around it - you gave in, but not for Jimmy. You did it for the mechanic.

“Are you sure about this?” Swansea asked earlier, his voice low but heavy. The lines on his face deepened as he watched you wrestle with the decision.

You nodded, though your stomach twisted at the thought. “Jimmy’s not going to stop bugging you about it, and you’ve got enough on your plate. I’ll deal with him.”

The mechanic grumbled something under his breath, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. You shouldn’t have to deal with him at all.”

“I know,” you’d said softly. “But he’s not going to stop. And… I’ll have you and Daisuke with me. It’ll be fine.”

Swansea did not looked convinced, but he eventually relented, only after you promised he could stay nearby, just in case.

Now, standing in front of the cargo bay's doors with Jimmy pacing in front of you, you were keenly aware of Swansea’s presence by the door. A silent guard, his watchful eyes never leaving the co-pilot. Daisuke was at your side, arms crossed and radiating quiet protectiveness, like a little brother who didn’t care how big a fight he might have to pick if it meant keeping you safe.

Jimmy, oblivious or indifferent to the tension, took a step forward, his movements quick but not careless. “Y/N, I know you’ve been keeping tabs on the cargo. But it’s been two months. We need to know what’s in there. It could help us—”

“It won’t,” you interrupted, your voice steady but firm. “I’ve told you before, Jimmy. It’s nothing important. We'll just waste our time."

Jimmy’s jaw tightened. “Leave that up to me to decide whether what's in there is important or not."

Swansea cursed under his breath and your lips pressed in a thin line, but the man's gaze didn’t waver.

Daisuke took a step forward. “She’s not wrong. Y/N wouldn’t hide anything if it could help. She knows what she’s doing, Jimmy.”

Jimmy scoffed. “I’m just saying—if there’s even a chance, we should check. We’re running out of options here.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Fine,” you said, exasperated. “You want to see it so badly? Go ahead. Open it. But when you'll find out I’m right, I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Daisuke frowned but didn’t say anything, glancing at you like he wanted to intervene but knew better than to push. Instead, he stepped closer to your side, his quiet presence grounding you.

Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as though he’d won some kind of victory. “Thanks, the code?” he muttered, moving toward the cargo bay doors. Swansea was already there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked on Jimmy.

“She said yes,” Jimmy said defensively as he approached, but Swansea didn’t move.

“She shouldn’t have to,” Swansea muttered under his breath, stepping aside only when you gave him a small nod.

"4517" The pad beeped with each number you tell him. The entrance hissed open, like a dragon waking up from its deep slumber.

The cargo bay was dim, the rows of hundreds of boxes towered over all of you. You followed Jimmy inside, Daisuke sticking close to you while Swansea lingered by the door.

The co-pilot walked straight to the nearest box, his movements quick and eager. “Let’s see what’s so ‘unimportant,’” he muttered.

As the box was pried open, the sharp, clinical smell hit instantly.

Mouthwash.

Jimmy froze, staring down at the neatly packed bottles as if they might suddenly transform into something else. Daisuke peered over his shoulder, his eyebrows raising. “Huh. Well, that’s… useful,” he said.

Jimmy’s face burned as he looked back at you. “This is it? You’re telling me this is all we’ve been hauling?”

“I told you. Nothing important. But you couldn’t take my word for it, could you? You know what's funny, Jimmy?" You balled your hands on your sides, "I should be the one not trusting you, after what you've done."

Jimmy stood there, eyes narrowing and jaw clenched. For a moment, it looked like he was gearing up to argue. But it was all so painfully obvious, the desperation in his stance. He wanted to paint himself as the victim, again, to make excuses, again, as if he wasn’t already a pathetic excuse for a man.

You glanced at the box, the sight of the neatly labeled bottles almost comical in its absurdity, mocking the co-pilot. Then your eyes landed at him, his confidence snapping under the weight of his proud insistence.

“Satisfied now?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the tension like a knife. Without waiting for an answer, you turned your back. “This is your answer, Jimmy...”

For the first time since the crash, you felt something crack open inside you, not fear, not guilt, but anger. Controlled, righteous anger.

"We don’t survive by hunches or waiting for some fucking miracle," you spat. "We survive because people are actually out here making sure the Tulpar doesn’t fall apart."

Your eyes met Swansea's, then to the ground.

"Everyone pitches in, does what needs to be done, no matter how much of a death trap the job is. But if you’re too busy playing pretend captain while the rest of us are holding it all together, maybe it’s better that you step back and let the people who actually know how to keep this mess running do their thing."

You didn't wait for a response, not even tried to gauge his emotion. You left the cargo bay, going into the only place that gave you comfort, utility room.

Swansea appeared in the doorway. Before he could speak, before you could even gather your thoughts, you found yourself moving toward him. The words caught in your throat, but your legs carried you anyway, and in one swift motion, you collided with him in a tight hug. The kind you hadn’t realized you needed until the warmth of his body pressed against you.

“Thanks for everything," You paused, and before you could stop it, the words slipped out. "...dad."

For a moment, everything went still. The hum of the damaged Tulpar only filling the air, and for one fleeting second, you feared you said too much. That you crossed a line, said something you didn’t have the right to say.

But then, without a word, his arms wrapped around you, solid and sure, holding you like he was never going to let go. The tension in your chest slowly released and a stray tear rolled down your cheek.

“Always, kid.” His voice was low, thick with meaning, and at that moment, it held everything you needed to hear.