#fresh seaweed from the beach

[feddy-34]

little man loves his seaweed

[shrimpfossil]

Okay I’m about to say something that may be read controversially. I am not trying to start shit.

I feel like when we shit on Trump voters, we should not use “cares more about gas and the price of eggs” as a pejorative.

I voted for Kamala. I stand by voting for Kamala, I think that’s what everyone should have done.

I have also been to the food bank pretty regularly in the past year.

I can tell you that the rising cost of living, being unable to afford food, being unable to afford gas when that’s potentially your way to get to work, daycare, buy groceries, the doctor- the United States as a whole has shit public transport if they have any at all- all of that Is Very Very Real.

That’s not a reason to vote for Trump, fuck the man, he’s a monster in every single respect.

But I don’t think it’s a coincidence that a lot of poor people voted for him because he told them he’d make it easier for them to feed their families.

He won’t. Because he sucks.

But I am never, never going to shit on someone for buying what a grifter told them would make it easier for them to eat.

I still think they shouldn’t have voted for him.

But, and I’m being a little unfair here, I think a lot of people would stop saying that people chose the price of eggs over human rights if they’d ever had an empty table.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Finish Line || LS2

Summary: A farewell fic to Logan because I'm a sookie and miss him already. Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader (living in America) WC: 4k

Summer Break 2021

Your mother always said, “Nothing good is easy and nothing easy is good.” To an eighteen year old fresh out of high school you thought she was referring to studying and exam results, not the more impactful experiences you would face once the red brick walls were left in the rear view mirror. 

It would only take a matter of weeks to learn the real meaning.

Loving Logan wasn’t easy but it was impossible to stop the feeling of falling that came soon after meeting him. From the moment you met there was an indescribable connection but the paths of your future were heading in completely different directions and you knew at the end of summer you would say your goodbyes.

In the meantime you would enjoy what the weather had to offer and what better way to emancipate yourself from the innocence of youth and broadcast to the world that you were an adult than a girls road trip to Miami? You may not have been old enough to drink but that didn’t stop the college guys on summer vacation from keeping you and your friends well supplied. 

Looking back, it only proved how young and naive you were. 

“Dalt, I really shouldn’t be here,” Logan complained as a red cup was thrust into his hand. “I could get in so much trouble for this.”

“Relax, bro, you’ll be fine.” His older brother clapped him on the back happily. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The beach house was right on the waterfront and Logan stepped out onto the white sand to dip his toes in the warm water. He didn’t know who’s family the place belonged to but Dalton seemed to know everyone by name. It only made him feel even more left out and he thought maybe he should have just stayed in England for the summer break. 

The house was stifling with the humid temperatures compounding to a sauna with all the bodies inside. The beer had started off cool but it had warmed in your hands and began to taste disgusting so you abandoned it into the hands of a stranger passing by who swiftly chugged it back before shouting the Greek alphabet you assumed was the name of his frat house. You had certainly bitten off more than you could chew and debated catching a Greyhound bus home where you felt safe but you wouldn’t ditch your friends who were absolutely in their element.

The beach wasn’t like any you had seen before arriving in Miami. The sand bars were tiny pockets of islands and each property seemed to be its own space divided by narrow canals that lead to dry docks for their expensive boats. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked the stranger who sat in the sand at the water's edge. It was impossible to ignore each other’s presence when the rising tide had left such little space.

“It’s a free country,” he said with a small smile, his palm quickly swiping away the picture he had drawn in the sand. 

“I don’t know about that. Sometimes it feels like a prison. Sorry, that was really morbid.”

He laughed and tipped his head back to the sun that still beat down despite being late in the afternoon. “You’re not wrong though. I love coming home, but sometimes I’m glad I don’t live here anymore. I don’t know how to fit in with that,” he said looking back at drunken revelers who had stripped down to their swimwear despite having no inclination to actually enter the water. 

He looked like the rest of the guys there: tanned skin over a toned body and dirty blonde hair hidden by a cap he wore backwards. The southern drawl also confirmed the fact he called this place home. 

“Where do you fit in then?”

His shoulders shrugged as he picked at a desiccated chain of Neptune’s necklace that had washed up on the beach. He busied himself with plucking each individual bead off the seaweed and flicking it back to the water. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“A Formula One racing driver, or a fisherman.”

You buried your toes in the sand, wiggling them to dig deeper where it was cooler. “I thought the all-american dream was to be an astronaut?”

You met his blue eyes and saw the amusement that sparkled in them. “I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted with a grin before he held out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“I think we are beyond names here, I already know your hopes and dreams,” you teased, shaking his hand. 

“But I don’t know yours, yet.”

“I can give you my name, but as for hopes and dreams, I have no idea what I want to be. I’m still trying to figure that out.” You realised his hand was still in yours and gave it another small shake. “I’m Y/N.”

As the sun fell below the horizon the party grew larger and soon it spilled into the slice of paradise you had carved out with Logan. Sand was kicked up as two guys tackled each other to the ground and Logan threw a protective arm around you before they could crash into your side.

“Back it up bro,” he said as he rose to his feet and pulled you up too, tucking you in behind his back. “You could have hurt somebody.”

“Aw, Sargeant, is that your girlfriend?”

Logan ignored them and turned to check you were alright. His eyes scanned over your body and slowed on their ascent before he cleared his throat and met your eyes again. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You scanned the crowd and spotted two of your friends dancing and the other sat on some guy's lap, smiles on all their faces. You couldn’t disappear and make them worry but you didn’t want to stay as the party only grew more chaotic. “Yes, please, I’ll just tell my friends I’m leaving.”

You weren’t going to attempt to get amongst the gyrating bodies so instead headed to Dakota. The guy sitting beneath her noticed your arrival first and grinned at Logan as he stepped in beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You’re leaving aren’t you? Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“You two know each other?” you asked. 

“Only since birth,” Logan answered. “This is my brother, Dalton. Dalton, this is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said before turning your attention to your friend. “I’m going to head off, Kote. Logan said he can drop me off at the apartment after dinner.”

“Are you sure? I can take you back if you want.”

You laughed and leaned into Logan, enjoying the warmth that came as his arm curled around your waist. “I’m good, someone needs to make sure those two get back.”

You both looked at the twins who had found dance partners and knew the rented 4 bedroom apartment was probably going to double in residents by morning. With a resigned sigh that she didn’t really feel as the group mother, Dakota nodded. “I’ve got them, you two have fun.”

The wink she sent you off with made your cheeks heat but you hadn’t actually planned on doing what the action implied. Of course Logan was attractive, and the thought of taking him to your bedroom was one that had you melting, but you were quite happy just enjoying his company too. 

“Are you hungry? I know this great spot but it’s a bit of a drive from here.”

Out in the street where the sounds of the thumping bass couldn’t reach your stomach rumbled and you smiled sheepishly. “Just a little.”

The restaurant he knew was on Key Largo, about an hour south of where the party was in Miami Beach and you were amazed by how many bridges had been built to connect the keys. It would have felt a bit scary driving over the ocean if it wasn’t for Logan recounting stories of growing up in the state. It was a good distraction to listen to the fondness in his tone as he remembered fishing off the now-closed piers that he pointed out. 

“I think this is where you fit in,” you said as he cruised along the highway in his pickup truck, the radio quietly playing an RnB station in the background. It was warm enough that the window was down and the breeze blew his hair back like a runway model.

He glanced across the car and lifted a questionable brow. “In Florida?”

“No! Behind the wheel. You look, I don’t know, comfortable? No, content, that’s the word.” 

On the beach Logan had shared how he was halfway through the season of Formula 3 in Europe and had hopes to join an F1 team in the future. It was also when he mentioned returning to the country he currently lived in, four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean. Despite only just meeting him, you felt the four week countdown arriving like a dark storm cloud.

Those four weeks flew by almost as quickly as you fell in love. 

Summer Break 2024

The soy milk screeched and you winced at the sound before saving the new girl, and the coffee, from the machine. Thankfully it wasn’t scorched as the shop was already full with the busy morning foot-traffic and you wanted to keep it flowing for the customer’s sake. 

“Soy latte with a shot of hazelnut?” A hand went up and you passed the takeaway cup over. “Have a nice day.”

You looked at the next order stuck to the bench and immediately searched for the customer, a smile splitting your face when you found him. “Baby, you’re home! Why didn’t you call?”

Logan ducked under the staff counter and met your embrace with strong arms that pulled you to your tiptoes. “I called, but you must have been busy here. God, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

You checked your phone in the pocket of your apron and saw the missed call before slipping it over your head. “Marie, can you keep an eye on everything?”

“Yeah, course, hun, take your time,” the part time barista said with a wave. “Welcome home, Logan.”

“Thank you.” 

You dragged Logan eagerly through the swing door that stated ‘staff only’ and past the break room to the disused office at the back. “I’ve missed you so much,” you managed to say between the desperate kisses you shared as he kicked your door closed. 

“Missed you too.”

Your hands reached beneath his shirt and he chuckled breathlessly as he caught them before they could move any further. “Tempting, sweetheart, but not here.”

You pouted as you draped your arms around his neck instead and held him tight. “I have the studio booked in 20 minutes, did you want to come?”

Logan rolled his eyes at the stupid question and didn’t bother to answer as he tucked his hands into the back of your jeans and buried his face in your hair. “You smell like blueberry muffins,” he hummed happily. 

“I can steal one,” you offered but when you pulled away he quickly pulled you back with a shake of his head.

“Diet.”

You grabbed the flesh on his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath. “You’re perfect, baby, one muffin isn’t going to change that - but it will make you happier. Go grab a seat in the staff room.”

You walked him back down the hall and let him settle into the couch while you grabbed a muffin from the front counter. Most of the rush had quickly cleared and with the lull in orders you made him his favourite drink. 

“You spoil me, sweetheart,” he said with a gratefully smile as you placed the plate and cup on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You sank into the couch beside him and watched him pick apart the muffin, finding all the blueberries to eat first. He could feel your eyes on his hands as they fiddled with crumbs but before he worked up the courage to explain why he caught a flight two days earlier than planned. “What’s going on, baby?”

He exhaled a heavy sigh and wiped his hands clean before taking yours. “I think it’s over.”

Your heart cleaved apart and your ears started ringing as your world came crashing down. There was only one semester left in your art programme before all the plans the two of you made would come to life - plans that started with moving to England with Logan. Plans that were crumbling down.

“It’s over?” you repeated as silent tears streaked your face and your hands slipped from his.

Horror bled into Logan’s features and he snatched your hands back, placing them over his chest where his heart beat rapidly with panic. “Not us, never us,” he rushed with a harsh shake of his head. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are my everything.”

You sagged with relief as he wiped your eyes but the relief was short lived as you understood what he meant and the phantom pain in your chest returned. “Have you spoken to James?”

He nodded and leaned into your touch as your palms ran up his chest to cradle his face. “It’s not good.”

To hear the defeat in his voice was something you never wished to hear again. It was a sound that no 23 year old should make, he was too young to feel the immense pressure he was under and a weaker man would have been broken by it. But Logan was strong, mentally and physically - he would recover from this, you would make sure of it.

“Come on,” you whispered as you rose to your feet and tugged his hands. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“But you have class.”

You grabbed your handbag from your locker and tossed him the car keys. “This is more important, and I can paint anywhere.”

—

The drive to Miami took most of the day and the frown on Logan’s forehead seemed to soften as the arid air turned humid and the paddocks turned to swamp before he sped through Alligator Alley. The top 40 charts played quietly on the radio and Logan hummed along with the ones he liked while he held your hand on your thigh. 

A contented sigh of relief exhaled from deep in Logan’s chest as the sunset and the city lights illuminated the horizon. Though he was tired to his bones, just the sight of his home was enough to rejuvenate him and he sat up a little straighter before taking the exit that would lead him to Fort Lauderdale. 

Madelyn and Daniel were already expecting Logan and the front door opened before he could turn the engine off. It had been a while since they last had Logan home and you felt a little guilty since most of his returns to home soil were to visit you instead, but they didn’t hold it against you. Madelyn was just happy that there was someone who loved and supported Logan as much as she did.  

It was immediately clear that she wasn’t aware of his current struggles as you saw him hide behind a confident smile as she asked how everything was going. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” he admitted as he closed his bedroom door after dinner. 

You placed your bag on the floor and took a seat at the headboard before patting the spot beside you. Logan flopped down on the bed and rested his head on your thighs while his long legs hung over the edge, looking up as if you had all the answers. 

“You could never disappoint them, Lo, they just want you to be happy. And, you're worrying about things that haven’t even come to pass. We don’t know what the second half of the season will bring.”

“I know you are being reasonable, but I can’t help thinking this is the end. Everyone else thinks so too.”

“You mean everyone on X, formally known as twitter,” you said with a roll of your eyes that made him chuckle. “How about no social media for the whole break? Just disconnect from it all for four weeks.”

“And what happens at the end of the break?” he asked quietly, sensing deja vu from the last time he asked this three years ago. It was an eerily similar state too with his head on your legs but you were on the white sands instead of a bed. You had already fallen in love but he was due to fly back to Europe and you would be getting in the car with your friends and heading home. He had forever changed you that summer.

You combed your fingers through his hair as you relived the same memory. “We will be grateful for the time we had together.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he sat up so he could pull you onto his lap. “I’m not letting you go again.”

“I should hope not,” you stated as your knees settled either side of his thighs and you reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. “Now say goodbye to this, I am having you all to myself.”

He plucked the phone from your fingers and tossed it to the side table before putting all those glorious muscles to good use. The room spun until he caged your body beneath his and he gently kissed his way across your collarbone. “You already have me, sweetheart.”

–

A sick twisting feeling gripped your gut as you waved goodbye to Logan through misted eyes. No matter what you had said, you could feel his stress growing as the break came to an end and now he was going back alone. You wished you could go with him.

The drive back to your apartment was too quiet but you couldn’t listen to the radio because the songs he would have hummed to would only make you miss him more. It always took days, weeks even, to reacclimate yourself to the loss of his presence when he left. It never got easier but the memories made were worth it.

The days dragged by as classes began again and the repetitive routine of life was reestablished. Finally it was the weekend and you could curl up on the couch and watch Logan’s practice on F1TV while you were surrounded by paintings of him. There were two new additions that had come back from Miami, one capturing his happiness as he reeled in a bluefish and the other capturing his perfect features as he sunbathed shirtless, that one was purely indulgent.

“Oh no, Sargeant has taken a big shunt into the barriers there.”

Your feet slammed to the floor as you jumped out of your seat and stumbled closer to the tv as if you could reach through it and help, but you were helpless to watch as Logan remained in the car in the middle of the track - red flags waving. 

“Come on, baby, get out of there,” you begged as you heard his radio saying he was okay, but then the back of the car ignited into flame. You were screaming for him to get out as George’s car rolled by, his hands gesturing wildly for Logan to get out too before he finally was free of the seat harness and jumping out over the halo. 

You finally breathed a sigh of relief but it didn’t last as the camera cut to Logan leaning on the barriers, his head hung in defeat despite the helmet hiding his face. You knew your boyfriend better than anyone, you knew exactly what was going on inside his head and you knew you had to do something.

The credit card Logan had given you years ago had been left discarded in the back of your underwear drawer. He said it was for you to use but you had never been with him for the money and even as a broke uni student you hadn’t used it once. But this was an emergency, and if you were ever going to use it then you could be damn sure it was going to be spent on him.

One quick email was sent to your professor begging for an extension due to a family emergency before you packed a bag and booked the first flight out to Amsterdam.

With shaking hands you typed a message: I’m so glad you got out of there, baby. I’m on my way and I love you so much xxx

You knew he wouldn’t be able to reply for a little while since he would have to get back to the team garage, and there would be other responsibilities first like having a medical check and debrief, but you sent it anyway along with the flight numbers so he knew where you would be and when. It was going to be a long day with the 13 hours of flights plus the change in timezone but nothing was going to keep you from getting to Logan before the race tomorrow.

–

A stranger with a whiteboard greeted you at the airport and the exhaustion of the trip faded away when you reached the paddock with a pass in hand and stepped into the Williams garage. Bodies of mechanics moved in sync as they rushed around the car preparing it for the race that was due to start in a few short hours but it was one man that was standing among them that drew you closer. 

“Lo,” you greeted softly behind him on raised tiptoes. 

A wide smile split his face as he turned to embrace you, lifting your feet off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Hellow, sweetheart,” he breathed against your skin before inhaling the familiar scent of your perfume. 

Your hands tightened on his waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you okay?”

He pulled back and his smile faltered. “I’m better now that you’re here.” 

You reached up to trace the curve of his cheek where his smile had been but his team principal called his name before you could feel the shadow of his beard on your palm. “Can I borrow you for a minute?” he asked Logan before spotting you, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Hello, Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, James,” you replied politely before stepping out of Logan’s arms and giving him a little nudge in the right direction. “I’ll wait over in hospitality.”

Logan spent what time he could with you, reassured by the feel of your arms wrapped around his neck and your cheek pressed to his as you sat on his lap in the single chair that furnished his driver room. The thin walls did little to dampen the noise of the motorhome and the crowd beyond but for a few minutes Logan could forget it all and the pressure that came with it - until the clock ticked away the precious minutes alone and reality returned.

“I have to score a point today,” he whispered like he was confessing a sin and he tipped his head back to stare at the roof. “No point, no seat. That's the deal.”

“Can they do that with your contract?”

“They can do whatever they want, sweetheart. I’m lucky they let me go this long without contributing.”

You cupped his face and tipped it forward so he was forced to look you in the eyes. “There are more ways to contribute to the team than just scoring points. You spend hours in the simulator every week so they can get their precious data.”

“And then I go and cost them $250k when I crash,” he laughed humorlessly and dropped his forehead to yours. “I think this is it. I’m tired and it’s so hard to enjoy it now. That’s the worst part out of all of it. I used to like my job, it was all I wanted to do.”

Your thumbs caught the tears that clung to his lower lashes. “What do you want now?”

“I honestly have no idea, I just know I want to be wherever you are.”

A knock at the door interrupted the promise you were going to make and someone in a William’s shirt said it was time to head back to the garage before ducking back out of the room.

“I love you” you whispered between the kisses you traced across the bow of his lips. “I want you to go out there today and forget James and points and all that stuff and just enjoy the race. I have watched you give everything to this team but today I want you to be selfish, okay? Enjoy it out there or it’s all for nothing, no matter the outcome. And when you get out of that car I will be waiting for you, arms wide open.”

Logan closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath before he captured your lips in a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. Resolute and proud, he stood up and placed you on his feet before grabbing his cap and slapping it on his head. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

[storiesoflilies]

as we fall, time is broken

synopsis: from the sea you came to me, and to the sea you shall return, for you cannot hate the place you once called home. w.c: 6.3k.

pairing: vampire!toji fushiguro x vampire!f!reader

warnings: major character death, angst, toxic relationship, allusion to smut, blood consumption, language barrier, pirate vibes, religious themes. sfw but MDNI!

a/n: an extra special fic for the wonderful @bungalowbear this piece is also written as a tribute to ‘the odyssey’ by @lovenona <3

divider / ao3 / playlist / @ficsforgaza

she used to have it all once, and more.

and not so long ago, she even used to dream. maybe she still did sometimes, but it certainly never meant what it used to.

perhaps that is why she came back here all the time, to the place where it all began to try and relive it all again. to turn back time, attempt to break through a metaphysical barrier and maybe – just maybe – she could see him again.

it was a cathartic, toxic, addictive cycle.

this is what pain is. this is what love is.

the rain was coming down hard on the sand, little water angels falling down from heaven to try and comfort her.

(that was a place she could never go.

this was as close as she could get.)

she tipped her neck upwards to the blackness of the night, letting them pass through her like a blessing she could not accept. it was too late for her to be worrying about that now. life had already hurt her so, and she’d already paid her dues. still, she raised her arms above her head, imagining a halo of starlight and moonlight was there.

she was doomed to be here, you see, all alone and trying to make sense of how it all began. like the start of a book she had to keep re-reading over and over again to try and understand the past. she couldn’t give up now, no. no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t, not after all this time.

something was broken, she could feel it.

sighing, she flicked open the cover.

and the memories spilled out onto the weather worn pages again, incoherent inky letters slowly swirling into something legible.

this is the last time, she swore.

(even though,

that is what she said the last time.)

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

the sea was in her lungs, filling her with salt and death.

(no, not death.

that was already upon her.)

she was washed up on a beach, that much she knew. there was the smell of fresh seaweed and something fishy, and the waves were moving backwards and forwards in their dance. she stayed put, unable to move or do anything at all. the silver sky had its eyes on her, and it seemed to pity her.

no.

calling it silver made it beautiful, and it was not. it was like ashen skin kissed with coal dust, and she pitied it instead.

she tenderly rubbed the wet sand of the shore with her fingertips, feeling its somewhat smooth grainy texture run over her skin, and tried to loose herself in a tender fascination to escape how bone weary she felt. her throat burned ferociously, and her lips were cracked and sore from the salt grains embedded in every groove. she weakly looked up, and did not recognize where she was, or how she got here.

(there was a boat. the smell of oil and rum, and screams of bubbling blood.

she did know, she just did not want to remember.)

her back was to the sky. she could feel the heat of sun bearing down upon her with a vengeance she had never known it could possess. it kept her beaten and downed, unable to do anything at all as the waves rushed over her again and again. the sea was disgusted by her, she thought. and after spitting her out, it was trying with all its might to push her far away from it – a petulant child pushing away it’s dinner.

how very sad it all was.

she just wanted to lay there and dream.

the roaring and crashing of the waves was deafening. it hurt her ears and head more than the sun did, made her deaf to everything else around her.

a squelch on the sand, and hard boot pressed into the side of her cheek.

her salt crusted eyes cracked open.

it was a man.

(no, he wasn’t.

he was just like her.)

tall and built, his hair dark like smoke. she could tell he was strong, it poured from him like wine from an overflowing goblet. it was in his hands and in his eyes of emeralds and forests. there was a green fire in them that could burn her alive if he wanted it to. he looked down at her like she was scum, an ugly barnacle leaching off the bottom of his ship, and she wanted nothing more than to shrivel up into nothingness.

his mouth moved, saccharine words spilling out from between them like honey and lavender.

she thought he sounded like an angel.

but she couldn’t understand a thing.

a green flash of annoyance, and he repeated much more slowly what sounded like a question. the weight of his boot left her cheek, and she clicked her jaw painfully. he pursed his lips, and sighed in a way that let her clearly know she was already an inconvenience to him.

she wanted to cry.

(she could never,

there was no water left in her anymore.)

her voice tried to claw its way out of her dried throat, but nothing more than a pathetic, raspy wheeze came out. he raised a thick brow at her, and something sarcastic flew out of his mouth. what little interest he had in her was quickly waning.

she was to him like sand in an hourglass.

please don’t leave me here like this.

but he had already turned around. she saw the worn leather of his tanned boots walking further away from where she laid in her mausoleum of salt. she almost choked on the shoreline in fear, sputtering as a desperate strength seized her. her fists plunged into the wet sand as she pushed herself up ungracefully, falling almost immediately back in again.

she was a lamb learning to walk, and he was the wolf who had decided she wasn’t even worth his effort.

he stopped and turned, watching her stare up at him with a naive expression and sand plastered on her face.

clearly, he would not be helping her.

and so she got up sluggishly, stumbling through the sand dunes, her legs crisscrossing with every shaky step. every time she fell roughly straight on her chin, he did not budge an inch forward, did not seem to care at all.

and yet, he was still waiting for her.

her spent body was alight with renewed vigor, and the last few steps were easy, like her new body knew exactly what it was supposed to do now. she stood in front of him now, breathing in the scent of leather and his smoke.

was it disgust or pride that was making his lips curl?

his face was marble, beautiful and utterly unreadable. this was a man that did not want anybody breaking through into his soul. she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she slipped through a little crack.

(she was good at that.

after all, that was how she ended up like this.)

he roughly gripped her chin, calloused fingertips scratching her water wrinkled skin. his green eyes became slits that peered into her, trapping her in his spell. she gasped, a wet noisy thing, as she felt herself being pulled under into his depths. he was trying to dull her senses, to keep her dumb and overwhelm her in a dancing forest of kelp to drown her.

but the side of her that was logical and predatory knew that he was testing her. to see if she could resist him or not, to surmise if she could be of some use to him and his purposes after all.

but oh, this feeling.

she teetered dangerously on a knife edge between insanity and mortality, stuck in an infinite loop that was him and his green.

there was only this, them, here and now.

his gaze slid down and settled on her bare chest. she became hyper aware of her own nakedness. something ancient, a feminine violence, stirred her unfeeling heart. she slapped away his hand and bared her fangs of pearl at him.

it was a woeful display really.

she knew it, and he certainly did too.

still, something in it had made him smile.

he offered her his hand like salvation, his palm facing the heavens.

(the first woman from long ago screamed.

you will not survive this – him.)

but she was already dead, and he already seemed to know everything there was to know about her. she had already decided that she would follow him wherever he went.

she slid her palm into his.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

his name was toji.

he’d pointed a finger at himself, slowly repeating the two syllables between his blood-stained lips until she understood what he meant.

toji.

she swiped her tongue over her teeth, licked her lips, and said it back to him tepidly, like crystal water trickling from a jug. his name was sugar dusted over her cupids bow, the most precious and sweet thing to her. she said his name like a prayer, and he seemed pleased by it.

toji was by far the most interesting creature she had ever encountered. a prince of mysteries, shrouded in royal mist and smoke.

(but he could never be king.

for there was already one, and he did not share.)

even though she had seen much and more of the world, nothing compared to him. not the great glaciers of the poles, for all their silent sorrow and imposing grandeur. not the swarming godly manta rays, nor the iridescent palaces of rainbow coral. not even the green flashes of death when the sun was just beginning to sleep or rise for the day.

and yet, toji had been there in glimpses within all the world’s greatness.

she had just been blind to him.

below the deck of toji’s ship, they lay there on the dusted-covered wooden floor in absolute silence, waiting out their penance. the sun was the vengeful michael, its rays of light a sword of justice, ready to bear down on them. if they dared to even show a sliver of skin during the day, then they would boil and blister and pop until they returned to the refuge of darkness.

toji’s ship was anchored a little way from shore, but far enough that ordinary creatures could not get to it without a boat. it had once belonged to fishermen, she knew because their smell still clung faintly to the wood; of grease and sweat and their catch. the oversized clothes toji had scrounged for her amongst the forgotten treasures on the ship still reeked of them too. the lingering sweet smell of lobster and crab shells still clung to the worn threads, even though they had been disused and covered in dust for perhaps decades.

her body could do things like that now.

it was easy to marvel at her extraordinary changes during those times of silence. how her skin was made of diamonds and moonstone, stronger than it had ever been before. no matter how hard she tried to pierce it, whether with her own nails or sharp bits of metal lying around the ship, nothing could even scratch it. but when she had attempted to use a splintered plank of wood, toji had grappled her before she could blink. the suddenness of it sent her into a hissing, flailing mess, but his overwhelming strength and stern glare in his eyes had stilled her, even frightened her.

she knew then to never try that again.

between the cracks in the boards, she could see far out into the distance. could make out where the world curled, where the sea kissed the land, and the humans that gathered mussels between the rocks. she could even tell how dirty and grimy their clothes were, how soaked they became as the waves crashed into them, and their reddening skin glistening beneath the sun.

her hearing had sharpened too, and she knew that if not for the deafening roar of the sea filling her ears like white noise, she would be able to hear things moving from miles away.

but her favorite thing?

that was to run.

for hours, she would race beneath the ship, from one end to the other, touching the stained wood with her finger tips as she pushed off each wall. toji would sometimes watch her with one eye cracked open, completely unamused. she would not stop running until her throat burned with thirst, fierce and hot. only then then would she would stop, collapsing in a heap on the bare floors, blankly staring up at the decking.

it was then that their silence was all consuming, unbearable.

she couldn’t help but think she had traded her tomb of salt for one of wood. sleep was but a memory of life now, an escape neither of them could indulge in anymore. there was nothing she could do but be consumed by thought and time. she was surprised by just how much she could feel. her veins ran with pure emotion, from the most euphoric joy, to merciless, crushing sadness in the space of a few minutes.

what was her purpose now?

immortality surely had to mean more than being a slave to blood magic.

she imagined what toji thought about. he, perhaps wisely, never moved an inch when he settled beneath the ship, arms crossed behind his thick head of hair. she wondered if he was just as painfully thirsty as she was, and was just able to perfectly hide it. what little movements he made were never careless, because toji was far too calculating for that and hated anything unnecessary.

she knew better than to antagonize him.

but the restless part of her was just so incredibly bored.

one day, she couldn’t help herself. she wanted to see just how close toji would let her get. she crept towards him on her hands and knees, knowing full well that he could hear her skin scraping against the wood.

still, he didn’t move.

she was beside him now, gazing down at his face. toji looked serene like this, perfectly still. like death, wonderful and mysterious, not at all what she thought it would be like. he was not unfeeling and cold, there was something beneath his marble stone. she knew that toji was older than her, much older. there was something beautifully ancient about him. the sort of grace that was as timeless as the giant blue whales that used to sing to her of the histories.

but toji was her home in a way the seas had never been.

she reached out into the space between them, wanting – yearning – to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.

when she finally felt the cold touch of his death, toji opened his eyes, bathing her in molten emerald. she melted under his gaze, letting out the tiniest, pathetic whimper. her palm cupped the apple of his cheek, and she worshipped his ichor and perfection. she traced the scar on his lip, memorizing it smoothness, then trailed it along his lips. she smiled widely, childishly, at how freely toji was allowing her to do this.

his green fire spread to her undead heart, and she wetted her lips, throat burning ardently, as her hand settled over his neck.

what would his blood taste like?

would it be cold and sweet? she imagined its ruby redness trickling from between her lips, and–

toji gripped her wrist, a warning blaze setting her aflame as he snarled and flashed his fangs at her.

she stilled, crippling shame filling her.

for a moment, the universe watched with bated breath as the two creatures stared each other down. she submitted to him instantly, dragging herself with haste to the other end of the ship, groping for apologetic words that toji would never understand.

eventually, he grunted dismissively. he slowly pulled himself upright, and nudged his head toward the exit. she turned and stared out through the cracks in the boards behind her.

it was finally night.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

wherever they were in the world, it was the most unremarkable of places.

the humans here were stones hardened into the mould of this desolate place, with no hope of ever leaving. they all lived and died in their sad, grease-riddled town that made its living from the fish in the sea. she knew this because toji had taken her there one day to observe them all from a distance, when the storm clouds were heavy enough to shield them from the sun. their buildings were stained with guts and old blood, and the acrid smell of their oil lamps rose high into the air. the rhythmic sound of fish scales being scraped away was the beating heart of it all.

(she would have cried for them once,

but she did not belong to their world anymore.)

there was a port too, with sullen ships and even more sullen crew sailing them. pirates came and went with the wind, their unmarked sails pitifully flapping in the breeze. they stopped to indulge in whatever bars and brothels were there, always wiping their hands clean on their weather-stained pants when they were done, before hastily escaping back into the sea. perhaps they knew they would be doomed to remain here too if they stayed even a moment longer.

how toji ended up in a place like this, she did not know.

after swimming to shore from his ship, he would leave her on the beach. everytime she attempted to follow, toji would pin her down, shoving her arms deep into the sand and baring his alabaster fangs as a warning. she would pout her lips, petulantly crossing her arms like a child, and he would mumble what she knew were the blackest of curses before stalking off in the direction of the town.

she had no say in the matter.

all she could do was wait there for him to return, and such had been their routine for decades now.

even when her thirst was painful, she would still sprint along the beach, the adoring motherly moonlight kissing her skin. she would wade into the ocean and dive beneath the blackened waves, holding her breath between puffed out cheeks. the darting squid would watch her with their bulbous, intelligent eyes. they used to speak to her once, wrap their tentacles around her throat and tell her stories of creatures from the depths even she had dared not go to.

and now?

they spat their thick ink at her in disgust.

and then she would resurface, relishing in the loneliness of the world, and she would sing again.

to the ocean, and ode to its life and all its cruel misery.

she would sing to the moon, for its silver death and all its mystery.

(and to the king with red eyes.

for it was by his hand that the cards had dealt her a prince.)

her songs for toji came from someplace deep within her. something boundless like fire, or the mist hovering over the sea on the grayest of mornings. she would sing of how he curled over her skin like a storm rolling in from the distance. how he made her emotions rise and fall like the waves, and how she wanted to breath in the dust on his marble skin and keep him inside her forever.

her body would prickle with something unfamiliar.

she wanted to call it love.

but could creatures like them even feel such a thing?

they were predators, killers. they snuffed out love like it was nothing, fed on the ardor in the blood of their prey until the bodies shriveled and there was nothing left but dust.

thud!

she ceased her melody, and turned to face who she already knew was toji returning from the hunt.

there was a man sprawled on the sand reeking of piss and terror and rum. she watched as the moonlight mixed with the bead of sweat running down his temple, dripping down to mix with the crushed shells in the sand.

she tilted her head curiously.

in all these long years, toji had never once brought her a live human.

thump! thump! thump!

her pupils dilated, inky blackness invading the milky sea of her eyes at the sound of the man’s heartbeat.

she had not killed a living thing in so long.

(the red king had sat at the helm,

smiling at the bloody carnage spilled over the oak decking of his ship.)

toji’s eyes were green lanterns in the night, his worn leather boot pressing down hard on the man’s back. she wondered if this was a test – it had to be. toji never did anything without reason, even if she never knew exactly what went on in his mind. he was too cunning for mindless havoc, because then the resulting mess would be uncontrollable, unpredictable.

and toji did not like things to be messy.

the man looked at her, and she cooed at the fear etched into his features like scratchings on a rock. she opened her arms wide like a messiah, her body half-swallowed by the sea.

and started to sing again.

toji’s eyes widened a fraction, his fists tightening into boulders. he lifted his foot from the man’s back, stepping once, then twice backward, his mouth set in a thin line.

(he has heard you sing, and now he shall never let you go.

cried the first woman from long ago.)

she knew the magic was no longer imbued within her voice, because that had been a gift for the living. but death had not made it ugly. it was still a pretty voice, made from ice instead of salt. while she may not be able to drown the mighty ships of pirates any longer, it was still enough to captivate those who would kill for something more beautiful than the dirt they were born in.

the man stumbled forward, much like when she had first emerged from the sea. she smiled fondly as the wind carried her song over the sand dunes. still, the poor human crawled and crept towards her desperately like she was his salvation. the only rone who would soothe away all his troubles, and save him from the doom and demons in the shadows.

was this how toji had felt when she came to him? it was something more than power – godlike, perhaps.

she decided that she liked this feeling.

the man collapsed ungracefully into her arms, tears and snot streaming down both his cheeks like rain, babbling nonsense she could not understand. she cradled him to her chest, hushing him soothingly with a mother’s honeyed tongue. she met toji’s gaze, hoping that he could see just how deliriously grateful she was to him for this gift.

and with that, she fell backward into the sea, the man’s last sound a choking gasp of salt.

the squid darted frantically all around her, the only witnesses to the man’s fate in the darkness of the night sea. they had seen this dance a thousand and one times before; she killed in the death the same way she had in life.

when she had had her fill, she let the man’s body sink and hoped that at least the sharks would be somewhat thankful to her.

even if she would never be able to hear it.

she emerged from the sea, her clothes clinging to her skin like scales. to her surprise, toji was there to greet her, knee deep beneath the waves. he was a haunting vision of an angels grandeur, more than all that was considered beautiful in the world. breathlessly, she smiled at him, sinful blood coating her teeth and tongue.

he took a step toward her, and she to him.

toji moved his head to the side, his marble jaw flashing in the moon, and hummed. she could tell he was pleased by the tremble of his lips that threatened to curl upward, and the flare of his nostrils as he breathed her in.

his hand reached out to her, cupping her jaw, and quickly pushed his thumb between her parted lips. she gasped against his skin as he rubbed it over her teeth and the pearly points of her fangs, and removed it from her mouth with a provocative pop!

slowly, toji brought it to his own lips.

and sucked.

she watched him, utterly transfixed as the midnight moon, as he relished the taste of iron and salt.

in that moment, she decided to give toji her soul to him if she had one. she would submit herself to the justice of michael’s sun and fire to be with him forever, even if was just for a chance to be loved by him until the end of time on this miserable land in the vast world.

“do you want me to sing again?” she asked, hoping he understood.

toji only hummed in response, the faintest hint of a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

she did it anyway.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

to love toji was to love a storm.

its chilling anticipation, waiting for it to hit her so she could feel something. to be in its green eye, for the rain to carelessly slash her skin, and the waves to bash against her – and still love and endure it regardless. because to weather a storm was to be strong, to be worthy enough, and it would love her all the more for it.

(or perhaps,

see her as a challenge to break.)

and when the storm passed, it meant they would thrive together.

toji had continued to bring her one starved man after the other, sometimes even two at a time, all far too eager to take their chances with her rather than him. they were pirates, forgettable and disposable, and all met death in the sea that they claimed to love more than anything. toji had noticed quite quickly how easily they came to her, how willingly.

there was no struggle, no mess.

and so, that was how they hunted.

together.

something in her haunting song had cracked through toji’s wall. before dawn, satiated from the hunt, they were a tangled mess of limbs and panting breaths – dancing, wandering hands of liquid gold looking for a crevice to settle in. when they made love, toji never faced her, hissing if she tried to look at him, and a small part of her soul would wither into a burnt, blackened rose. still, she desperately drank in whatever he decided to give her, and that was decidedly good enough.

(you are nothing in the grand schemings of the green serpent in the garden,

sighed the first women from long ago.)

their days were still spent mostly in silence, though sometimes he allowed her to rest beside him. she did not understand toji, how his passion only seemed to awaken after his bloodlust had been quenched – after she had led the sailors to their deaths. the very moment the sun appeared, that part of him was locked away in a chest and thrown to the bottom of the sea, only to be dragged back to the surface when the moon returned.

she began to loathe the sun for entirely different reasons.

still, love for toji was where she found herself. if anything in this mortal world could make her undead heart beat once more, it was that love. so, she took all his faults and smothered them in sugar, and swallowed them down anyway. if toji did not love her, then he wouldn’t make her feel so alive when the moon came out to play. he would not have bothered with anything at all if he did not feel something, even if it was just a flicker of candlelight.

at least, that is how she rationalized it to herself.

they were both lying below deck, with her running through those very conflicting thoughts in her head when she heard it.

thump! thud, thud… thump!

she parted her lips and tasted the air on her tongue.

intruders.

on their ship, in broad daylight.

she sat up abruptly and whirled around to look at toji.

but he had already disappeared.

he was much faster than she, and was probably already tucked away somewhere in between the dusty maze of crates and chests. the footsteps grew louder as the stranger passed directly over her head, and she swallowed nervously. her mind raced, and throat burned viciously with thirst.

where could she hide?

rattle! clink, clink!

the metal latches on the doors were being disturbed.

there was nowhere to go, but she knew that when those doors opened, the holy sun of heaven would surely kill her. she spied a large chest, half-open and draped with worn sheets covering it, and dove toward it.

and not a moment too soon.

the doors swung open, and she winced as a dull beige light filtered through the sheet. there were three of them, their figures outlined as blurry browned shadows through the seams. one wore an ostentatious hat with a feather peeking out from the top, and something about his sword, sheathed in a black leather scabbard, set her teeth on edge.

something menacing.

something that could hurt her – toji.

her lips curled back over her gums, baring her fangs in a silent snarl.

they were moving deeper and deeper into the maze of crates, their backs gradually turned to her and their doom.

she pounced.

michael’s sword of light seared her exposed neck and arms, but it did not deter her from latching onto one of the smaller intruders and sinking her teeth into his neck. the man screamed, clawing desperately at her face as he slipped backwards in surprise. the other two whirled around, and the one with the hat unsheathed his sword to reveal gleaming, cruel silver.

together, the four of them danced around each other to the tune of blood and silver. for every weeping bite she left, the captain slashed her with his sword. she didn’t know it could be possible, but the pain from his strikes hurt her more than the sun did. it was a chaotic scuffle, born from instinct and the sheer will to survive.

but still, the humans could never hope to endure salt and ice.

with a final thrust, the captain twisted his sword into her shoulder, his life force fading violently as his essence poured down into her throat. she slumped down to the ground, holding the human close as she took in the aftermath of their fight.

the ship was a mess.

blood was splattered across the crates and boards, with the mangled bodies of the three men scattered and sinking down into every crack in the ship, spilling straight down to the sea beneath them. she clicked her locked jaw, and detached herself from her assailant, and hurried to tuck herself away into a half-open crate, whimpering from the pain of the burning sun blisters and stinging silver.

she was not healing.

there was a rustling of sheets somewhere, a great rush of wind, and the doors slammed shut with a loud bang!

she collapsed forward, her eyes bathed in cooling darkness, gasping and coughing as the wood uncomfortably scraped her open sores. she blinked, and saw toji’s crinkled boots in front of her.

her love was perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet, looking down at her with his hands and face clean of both blood and worry. she whimpered pathetically at toji, begging and pleading with her eyes for him to do something, anything.

he sighed.

gently, toji turned her to face him, and tipped her chin back. he pushed the base of his thumb past her parted lips, settling it in between her teeth. he gave her an encouraging nod, soft clouds behind the green of his iris, and pressed his thumb a touch further into her mouth.

she froze.

her fangs grazed his marble skin, and a pearl of toji’s blood spread across her tongue.

what was that look in his eyes?

it was something almost like pride.

she took a deep breath in, and took a long slow drag from him.

she was then lost in a sea of tumbling emeralds. his blood had ignited something feral and dangerous in her, working her up into a wild state as her wounds sealed and smoothed out like nothing had happened. somehow, toji’s lips had found hers, and they kissed and bit each other’s lips in a frenzied madness.

was it all just for a taste?

she couldn’t tell if toji was life or death.

(she was too far gone in her sin and indulgence,

that she could not tell the difference anymore.)

there was something inherently intimate about blood sharing. she could not explain it, but it was more profound than when they fell into each others embrace every night. toji was gripping both sides of her face, her lips bloody and bruised as she tasted herself on his tongue. perhaps it was her imagination, but she felt toji’s soul running through her – raw and angry and full of smoke.

she wondered what he thought she tasted like.

and hoped that he enjoyed it.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

immortality was not truly immortal.

death still hovered over them with his scythe, a mere inch away from their waiting, vulnerable throats. nobody knew that he was there, always watching, never knowing exactly when he might urge his midnight stallion just a little closer.

she certainly hadn’t known it either.

not until it was upon her.

they were on a beach sometime during the summer, a thick storm cloud hanging over the sea and shore. it was a taunting, teasing thing, making her jump as the thunder rolled through her bones and made her marrow tremble.

toji was lounging beneath a lopsided palm tree, its trunk bent and twisted so that its leaves draped to the side and covered him. even when the clouds cover was as thick as it was now, he still opted to stay in the shade, squinting his eyes as if the sun was burning him. he would watch her play in the waves, grunting dismissively when she would teasingly curl her fingers at him, urging him to come closer.

when that didn’t work, she would sing for him.

and the creases and ripples in the marble of his forehead would soften and smooth – only then could toji relax in the sun.

she turned her back to him and the shore, spreading her arms to the heavens as she sang to the jealous sea, declaring how grand immortality and their love was.

but she should have remembered where she was in this unfeeling world.

so loud was the call of the birds on the summer breeze and the waves beating against the sand and her ears, that she did not hear them until it was too late.

those horrid, vicious humans.

they had grabbed her by the arms and legs, with what seemed like twenty men still struggling against her strength. she spat and cursed at them, hissing and snarling as they pressed their silver crosses and flaming torches to her skin, marring her forever.

she wanted to cry, but remembered she could not.

toji’s green flames were upon her, she was sure of it. she could feel his presence was near, and could still smell him and his leather boots through the sour stench of the rotten fish from the townsmen surrounding her.

he was watching.

and doing nothing.

would toji be proud of her in this moment, as he had been when she defended him all those years ago? when she took the lives of those that had threatened him and his peace. she felt the flames soften and knew that he was – he had to be. she was sparing him from the fire and silver, so eager to take his place and save him from haunting the seas.

it was better that toji had not said any sort of goodbye at all, that they had not shared any sort of special last moment together.

but still.

a part of her hoped that he would sweep in to save her. that the part of him that had perhaps loved her could not bear to be parted from her. that immortality was worthless without her love and song.

but she knew that was not in his nature.

he was a survivor, through and through.

(how could it have been love? you were just as blind as i was,

wailed the first woman from long ago.)

she wondered if he would come to her after she was gone, as a stake was driven into her chest, shattering and splintering her ribcage. would he pluck out her heart and suck it dry from all the love it had for him? even though toji had taken everything and more from her, she wondered if he had at least realized he had been selfishly incapable of putting her out of her misery.

“お許しください”

but the fragile, momentous realization she had was that if immortality was true, and she had to choose to relive all of this – toji – over and over again.

she would.

and she did.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

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[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.

[pileofmush]

blue raspberry, red sun ୧ ‧₊˚

ft. monkey d. luffy

hello! this is an entry for the lovely @threadbaresweater's summertime (and the livin' is easy) event! haven't written for luffy in a while but i missed him, so.

details ➸ tags: modern au, tooth-rotting fluff, no plot just vibes // cw: gn!reader, mc is implied to have cleavage // wc: 1.3k // ao3

“how can you fuck up eating a popsicle that bad?” you ask, eyes wide at the straight-up murder scene before you. your own ice cream cone sits pristine in your hands—vanilla with a waffle cone. cute, contained, simple. 

you’re sitting on a curb in the middle of who knows where. the sun is particularly vengeful today: bright, hot, loud. it chases away all the shadows and beams down on you like you called it’s mother a whore. sweat pools between your thighs; concrete digs into your ass. you’re afraid that when you stand up there’ll be a sweat-stained print on the sidewalk, free for everyone to see.

your boyfriend shrugs, messy raven hair falling over his tan, toned shoulders. “dunno,” luffy says blandly. he licks his hand in one long stripe like a heathen and hums. “it’s good—wanna taste?”

you balk at the suggestion. “no, don’t—!”

too late.

🍓 .・゜-: ✧ :-

you can catalogue the days spent with luffy during a week by the amount of damage done to your closet. 

the pretty pale pink blouse you thrifted a few months ago—the one with the lace trim that shows off the perfect amount of cleavage—tossed in the hamper with thoughts and prayers thanks to the gigantic-ass stain luffy blessed you with last wednesday. 

(you should’ve seen it coming, really, neon blue sludge dripping from his sun-speckled fingers with reckless abandon near moments before he grabbed you by the waist to bring you in for a sloppy, tart kiss. it was quick and bright, an explosion of blue raspberry, before he pulled away as quickly as he initiated the kiss. he wiped his mouth with a lazy flick of his hand, then grinned a proud, dopey grin, teeth glinting in the sunlight. 

you remember feeling dizzy and warm, baked in the sun and your love and the sheer aura your boyfriend possessed.

“tastes good, right?” he asked. 

your eyes caught his flash of tongue as he spoke, tongue stained blue. 

“yeah,” you agreed quietly, reverently. “tastes good.”)

then there was the trip to the beach a few days ago that luffy suggested, which… alright, maybe you can’t blame him for getting sand all over you at the beach.

(and really, it was a nice trip. you and the straw-hats all packed into franky’s van like a baby soccer team getting driven to their first game. windows down, luffy happily chewing on a sandwich you packed him, nami rattling off directions like it’s her day job, brook belting 2000’s pop. and then, the lot of you spilling out and ambling to the beach. sunscreen slathered on every inch of your skin. the feel of hot wind and sand in between your toes, the salty tang of the sea on your tongue, and your hand in luffy’s, always, as he drags you across the beach with glee.) 

but still. luffy brought home a slimy strand of seaweed to prank you with, and it somehow found its way into your underwear drawer. 'no, he did not put it there', let him tell it. you had to resist beating him with a slipper. gosh, he’s such a dork.

so, yeah. dating luffy definitely means more frequent loads of laundry, but it’s fine. it really is. s’not like you didn’t know what you were getting into. s’not like you mind any traces of luffy you can get. 

luffy seems the type to be born in the summer.

he’s not- he wasn’t. a spring baby through and through, to your initial surprise. and sure, there’s probably something poetic you could say about blossoms and rebirth and fresh starts, but really, luffy reminds you of the hot, everlasting summer. he’s practically the sun incarnate. could’ve been a sun god in another life, for all you know, because his touch is so hot, hot, hot, and his laugh is crude and bright, and he is the only person you know to not wilt under the full force of the sun. instead, he feeds off of it. it gives him life, vigor, sustenance. 

you used to dread the summertime. now, it’s your favorite season.

so when luffy pops over with a blanket and a basket, you don’t need to think too hard to throw in a couple of (okay, several) sandwiches and some leftover fruit.

you decide on a quaint spot at a nearby park. the two of you walk side by side underneath the orange light of the dying sun. it’s a cooler evening. the grass next to your feet bristle; trees dance in the gentle breeze. the endless drone of the cicadas meshes with luffy’s rambling about his latest outing with ace and sabo—apparently, it ended in a fire—and you sneak a few glances at him. luffy’s skin is a rich, warm gold. underneath the last few embers of day, the sky soaked in warm oranges, pinks, and a devastating purple, you find traces of its colors reflected on his skin. 

and luffy is loud, loud, loud, but he is also quiet. and underneath the weight of the sky, you feel incredibly lucky to be a part of his life. 

his hand, looped lazily around your free wrist, snakes down to intertwine with your fingers. 

“what is it?” he interrupts his spiel with a sudden question. 

your teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip as you consider your response. “it’s nothing.” you pause. parse through your emotions and will them to become coherent thoughts. “i guess i just missed you.”

slowly, he drags the two of you to a stop. he tugs on your hand, a reminder, even as he blinks in confusion. 

“i’m right here,” he says, solemn.

“i know.”

a beat.

“you don’t have to miss me. i’m already yours.”

and, he’s right. like a sun rising above the horizon after a night plunged in the dark, he returns to you, again and again. 

“i know that.” in a stroke of luffy-branded honesty, you admit to him with a shrug, “but i don’t think i’ll ever stop missing you.”  

it is not a bad thing. not a bad thing at all. just another way to say i love you. perhaps the only way you can say it, right now.

luffy stares at you for a while and then releases an uncharacteristic sigh. he takes the picnic basket out of your hands and lets it drop in the grass, along with the blanket he was carrying. then, without warning, your boyfriend tackles you to the ground.

you barely even register it, he breaks your fall so gently, and then he’s clambering over you, long arms pressing you into the soil, long tendrils of grass tickling your skin, and you’re thinking about the dirt undoubtedly ruining yet another shirt of yours as he clumsily lowers his mouth to yours. he smells like grass and sunscreen and maybe a little bit of sweat, and tastes a bit like koolaid. but all you can register is him, the ever-present heat radiating off his body, the nimble fingers digging into your skin almost brutally, the clink of his teeth against yours. hot and sloppy and luffy, luffy, luffy.

you kiss until you can’t breathe, until you breathe fire, until your head is spinning and you can think no more.

then, he rolls off of you. the two of you pant: you, content to remain a puddle on the ground, him, leaning back on his arms. still close, though. still above you, dark eyes roaming over your form intently, tracking your every flutter. 

it’s quiet, save for the cicadas. soundtrack of the summer. 

you sit up and try to pat yourself off. it’s probably useless. you know there’ll be nasty grass stains on your back when you get back home. ah, well. can't be helped.

“i get it,” luffy says, eventually. after you’ve both caught your breath. he runs a finger down your leg, tracing inexplicable patterns into your skin. “i miss you too.” 

oh, how silly it is, to be in love.

“i know,” you say, cheekily. 

he relaxes. “good.” luffy reaches up to pat your head. 

you bat his hand away.

he tosses you a toothy smile.

you catch it.

this was v fun to write. hope u liked reading it <3

[karlachismylife]

Hi hi! It's me again, i love to that i can be here for your beautiful work, now hear me out, what if, we think out of the box and look out of the animals that were familiar with, do you know what i haven't found yet? Mythical and folklore 141, a bunch of tritons falling in love with a surfer? A pack of wendigos that had been hiding until they want to be seen by dear reader? Omg such an abundance of mythical creatures to choose from! I hope it could help a bit, with love and care

~🐰❄️

Hello, love! Thank you so, so much for your kind words and the amount of inspiration you gifted me!!! I'm sorry I respond so late, I was actually thinking about your ask a lot. I wanted to collect some recommendations for you, but realized I actually don't know any fics like that? I somehow felt that I did, but either I forgot and will only remember later, or I made it up. BUT I do have one recommendation! It's not folklore, but I think it can count as mythical? It's this monster!au fic by @brineoffire that is inspired by @bluegiragi 's very famous monster!au (which I also absolutely love and recommend, but I feel like everyone already knows it lol). I also know that @forestshadow-wolf has some yummy kelpie!Soap, which duh, of course kelpie and selkie Soap fics are the finest.

However, this made me realize that I want to make a masterlist of recommendatons! So thank you for pushing me in that direction :3 Also - and that's for everyone - feel free to send recommendations of your own! I'll be happy to read and share! Self-recs are also very very needed!

Coming back to your ask directly, I actually skimmed through it at first and thought you meant tritons as amphibians and was like "hmm why not axolotls?" and then realized you're talking about mermen xD Which are always on top of my list of mythical creatures because I (in case anyone didn't notice yet) LOVE sea. And everything it holds as well. And also mermaid-adjacent oviposition.

By the way, a long time ago I saw this painting (TW!blood and gore, so not putting it here directly) by Sergei Kolesov of a whale-sized mermaid and it has been on my mind ever since, even moreso after I saw the Drowned Giant episode of Love, Death & Robots. What if they actually were of a monstrous size? If a normal, human-sized tritons/mermen with a surfer feel like a fresh, light, summery and full of laughter and sun romance, these abyssal creatures and a whale researcher (stranded in the midst of an expedition, perhaps?) would make for a hauntingly beautiful, thalassophobic story. A tiny human coming to terms with their insignificance in the face of the eternal, bottomless ocean and at the same time learning what's it like, to be loved by the abyss itself - to be cradled in hands as big as their little boat, to look in the huge eyes of a horrifyingly powerful creature and see mirrored reverence. To soothe scars left by something you'd rather not know existed, if it can harm these giants. Size difference who?

Surfer!reader and tritons/mermen of smaller size would be so fun tho. So much space for mischief and playfulness, strong tails flipping the board over, sunscreen smell mingling with salty seaweed. Drifting while you wait for a wave and feeling something brush against your hand submerged in the water - only to get grabbed by your legs next, because someone just can't leave you alone. Getting shells brought to you seemingly by the sea surf if you don't surf on a lazy waves day and stay on the beach, making sand castles. Being the wind to their waves, kissing the sunburns away from their noses, not used to being out of water so much. Making love on the beach and SUFFERING from sand everywhere. Laying on the board on your stomach and kissing the most beautiful creatures surrounding you like curious dolphins or sea otters, heads sticking out of water, scaly fingers in your hair, webbed ears fluttering adorably.

I would actually love to write a selkie story, since they are one of my most favourite sea mythical creatures and I've written multiple fairy tales about them (including a biopunk take, which I am still proud of), but I am SO sure I've seen someone metion that someone's already writing it... I'll put it in my recommendations list 100% when/if I find it. Also plugging this precious thing by @the-shotce-newsletter since I look at the chonky seal Soap almost every day for happiness boost.

(CW! dark themes including cannibalism and such in this paragraph)

I am a little hesitant to touch on the wendigos yet, since I am not sure I have enough cultural knowledge on them and I do not want to add to the harm done by popculture depictions of them, but I am a sucker for intertwining love, lust and cannibalism. Isn't one type of love exactly that - a desire to merge into one whole with your loved one, unable to be separated on atomic level? To consume, devour and celebrate the strength they gave you? Or - to give up yourself completely, to be devoured, to become that strength by burning in an insatiable stomach? What is oral sex if not cannibalism of sorts? The erotisism of letting someone to touch your heart not metaphorically, but quite literally... and the long, drawn-out way leading up to it, coming to terms with the initial horror until it blossoms into sincere desire? That is something to think about.

There's definitely a lot more to dig up in folklore. For example, the legend of Herne the Hunter? The antlers-wearing ghost keeper of Winsdor Forest, that is often linked to Celtic Cernunnos in modern re-tellings? Is reader seeking spiritual liberation in neopaganism, catching attention of the forest spirit in its hunting grounds? Or are they just enjoying the nature, not knowing yet that they're kept safe by a power as old as the oldest trees in this forest? Or! Maybe they're in a world similar to the Robin of Sherwood series (I fucking LOVE that series and I WILL cry every time I hear Clannad's theme song play)? An archer blessed by the Hunter (why not make it four Hunters? there aren't just deers roaming the forests, after all! but if I had to choose one, I'd say it's very Price coded) to fight for what's right?

Or maybe they're trolls? Cave-dwelling brutes, enchanted by your beauty so much that they take the first opportunity to steal your child, replacing it with a changeling, just to have at least some part of you close to them? What will they do though, when they find out that there's so much kindness in you that you're ready to raise the changeling, protecting the innocent troll child from the wrath of your husband that blames you for your newborn's kidnapping? Of course they have to make everything right. And also - take you away from the man that dared to be cruel to you. You'll find out that being a troll princess is much better than it seems.

Somehow I couldn't remember any suitable slavic entity that wouldn't have some already well-used counterpart (like vampires, water or forest spirits - somehow every single other one I recall is a female entity, wow, that's interesting). But I'll think on it. I like the general image of paradise birds with human faces, like Sirin, Alkonost or Gamayun (which are all female. also, I encourage everyone to check out this short animated film about Sirin, I saw it on a short animated film festival and absolutely fell in love, it's a beautiful work of art. english subtitles available!!!). So maybe the boys are of same species? Powerful, prophetic human-birds, capable both of luring anyone and bringing destruction with their voices. And you, coming to learn your destiny from them, or - offering yourself in exchange for salvation of your village. They won't take your life, but they will make you theirs. Every bird needs someone to sing to.

I do like presonifications of winds, too - not from any particular mythilogy, but just in general. After all, it's wind and sun we're caressed by the most in life, isn't it? And there are four of them, so you'll never be lonely, whatever direction breeze blows today. Living somewhere on a hill, where there's always wind rustling in your curtains, playing with your hair and drawing gentle swirls in the dust under your feet. Cool, breezy kisses on your cheeks - or pranks, when they bring a singular pocket-sized cloud to hold over your head and rain specifically on you? Do you dare to learn just how loyal the winds can be?

I think I went a little too serious, solemn and dramatic route with this. Maybe I should look into some little shits that just cause harmless chaos. But I will definitely put pins on every single idea I wrote out here - and everyone is welcome to tell me, which one you find the most interesting, what would you like to read the most; maybe you wanna expand on some of them? Or you have some completely other view on some of them? Everything's welcome! I loved thinking about it. Thank you so much for asking <3

I will also think about other COD characters in such AUs. Heh. My brain looks like a Chritmas tree right now, so many pretty lights glowing. Many tasty thoughts.

A bit of a later addition, but I suddenly remembered the Sandman (Sandmann) legend/stories/interpretation, and I am actually incredibly fascinated with him (I'm a little bit of a Hoffmann fan and I'm not talking about the Saw character for once, even though that's my babygirl too). I love the complicated relationship of humanity with sleep, dreams, nightmares and death he embodies. And honestly the eye imagery always gets me even though I don't think I mastered using it myself. Anyway, I think task force 141 as four different sides of this entity (sweet, calm sleep with nice dreams; insomnia and nightmares; heavy, restless, hot sleep like with fever/just too intense but not bad (potentially sexy) dreams; and finally, the eternal sleep, death) would be an interesting concept, but obviously it would be more fair to seek one of the German/German-speaking at least characters to take on this role. Can't really see König in this, though. But Krueger and Golem don't really strike me as Sandmann material either... and I don't remember any other German speaking guys...

We also have Orla "Banshee" Murphy in game already (one of my hardcore crushes btw, she's so my type), so, like. There's your banshee hahaha. I actually would like to try writing a banshee in special forces... or maybe IRA... they'd make a powerful enemy I think. With her destructive tendencies (I told you she's my type) that would suit her so well.

Also on the topic of my operator crushes (help, I'm really trying to stay on topic here) I am literally obsessed with Raptor (Natalya Orlova). I don't know what folclore entity she could be (well, could always make her Baba Yaga, but I'm afraid I see our little Yaga as too harmless of an entity, all those films I watched in childhood made her too lovable to me), but she would be fucking terrifying. She's from Kamchatka, and I am unfortunately not too well-versed in the mythology there, but my quick research told me that in that region people have a six-legged white bear demon Kochatko - considering that her bio states she single-handedly killed a white bear proving her hunter father wrong, that would honestly be a great ballad of a hero slaying the monster to take its place. Like Schwartz's "Dragon" play, but this time we spin it as a good thing, empowerment and reclaming of identity and shit. I'm already so far in this yapping aren't I.

There are so many other operators from so many regions I am not even remotely familiar with in terms of culture and folklore... so many opportunities... mm...

[katerinaaqu]

Odyssey Parallels to my "Survivor's Guilt and Survivor's Duty" story (Rhapsody /Book 5 of Odyssey, Calypso's Monolog)

So here is a small break down of one of my most beloved fanfictions of Odyssey line by line from Calypso's monolog in 5th rhapsody of the Odyssey where she complains to Hermes for demanding to let Odysseus go, listing what she did for him. I find interesting how she speaks of the things she indeed DID do for him as if that somehow makes him her "property" or rather having a right on him (or as my brilliant friend @artsofmetamoor stated "like she was keeping a cat!" XD) Buckle up this analysis is long! XD

And I was the one to save him, while he was alone holding onto the ship's keel, for his fast ship was split open in the middle of the wine-dark sea by Zeus's thunder!

(Translation by me)

"Odysseus traveled once more; this time alone and grabbing upon the last remains of his beloved black ship… The night came cold and he was shivering. By the morning another storm caught up with him and his mast was once more drifted by the huge waves that resembled white top mountains, tearing apart his clothes and his flesh. And yet his hands endured… It was as if his heart and hands combined turned into oak or stones. The Man of many Torments endured. (From Part1)

Next day the sun was merciless over his head, sending him almost to the brief of hallucinations and heat as sweat was running down his already wounded body. The night the gods felt pity on him and sent a drizzle rain. Odysseus raised his head to the heavens trying to grab as much of the fresh god-sent water as if that would be enough to quench his insatiable thirst and the burning of the salt. Once a passing seaweed came close to him to which Odysseus made some sort of imitation of a meal for himself. How many times he nearly slipped off his life-raft he lost count…how many times he probably actually fainted on it he could no longer remember. And yet, the King of Ithaca endured…in strength that he had no idea he had. It was as if both his body and spirit had decided he had a duty to survive. He survived the agony and pain as well as the anxiety and fear every time something touched his foot beneath the waves or a passing fish would bite his legs. He had long stopped feeling much." (From Part 1)

"Therewith the worst came; a thunderbolt stroke the ship and the sudden flash and tremendous sound left them all blind and deaf. Odysseus screamed in pain shielding his ears. The ship cracked from side to side down in the middle; splintering in the winds like it was a pile of leaves." (From Part 1) => [This moment more graphically described by Odysseus himself in 12th rhapsody]

There all his goodly companions perished and the winds and waves brought him here!

(Translation by me)

"By night before the tenth day of his painful journey he had collapsed. He didn’t feel the sand beneath his body as his raft finally beached at a sandy beach. He didn’t move as some crab or beach beetle walked over his sea-beaten body. By dawn some hints of his consciousness returned. It was only for a brief second that the rays of sun touched his salt-crusted cheek but Odysseus saw or at least he thought he saw a tall slender figure picking something up from the beach many meters away from him (maybe a seashell). The figure turned towards him and walked there. And then everything turned black…" (From Part 1)

"He yelled till his throat was sore…till his voice was gone…he sobbed and cried tears almost as plenty as the waves of the sea. The storm was roaming around him… There was no one there to hear his lament… His voice was carried around by the wind…his tears were washed away by sea and rain…His body was borne by the direful winds… Six hundred men had started that fateful journey… Now there was only one… Now he was alone." (From Part 1)

I took him in with care and love and gave him food, I even told him I would make him immortal and ageless for all eternity!

(Translation by me)

"She slid her arm behind his back and half-raised him with unexpected strength, bringing the goblet to his lips. As the liquid touched those thirsty, dry lips, Odysseus gained strength anew to his arms; the type of strength you get when you need to survive. He greedily downed sips from the drink and aimed to hold it with his weak, shaking hands. He tasted the sweetest drink he ever thought he would taste; it was sweeter than honey, smoother than wine. It was all the tastes he ever knew and none at the same time. He coughed as the drink went down the wrong way but he drank more ignoring some that escaped his lips and down the thick layer of curly hair that adorned his wide chest. He was thirsty! He was thirsty to the point of madness!" (From Part 2)

"“My maids shall bring you some food, Odysseus. I believe you are strong enough to eat now. Nectar and potions we created should allow you to heal to that point” “I am grateful, beautiful goddess…” “Rest and regain your strength first” Calypso advised sweetly, “The rest shall come…”" (From Part 2)

"The weeks passed and Odysseus was indeed trying his best to keep himself in good condition. A few days more and he could walk about Calypso’s grotto without any problems and soon he felt gaining his old strength back. Eventually he got out of the grotto and got to explore the isle around and know his surroundings. Under the tender care of Calypso and her maids, Odysseus felt like finding himself again. He gained the weight he lost by his cruel misadventures and managed to built his previous physical strength." (From Part 2)

"“You nearly lost your life out there, darling… Why must you torment yourself over them? Why must your heart always mourn? Forget about this…mortal coil. Stay here with me…stay and rest, finally, Odysseus… You shall not want of anything here… I could offer you the gift of immortality… Never shall you fear sickness or death again! Never shall you find yourself in the same pitiful state that you were when you first showed up at my doors! You shall be my equal! All you need to do is ask…” (From Part 3) => [also remembering the first rhapsodies how Athena says t the council of the gods that Calypso aims to make him forget his homeland]

***

So yeah... I tried my best to follow the Odyssey but of cource details filled in by me! For those interested the three parts of this story are here!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

And of course viewe's discression is advised given the hard hemes it includes (yes it includes the mention of SA so yeah...sad and dark stuff)

My Calypso fanart based on my story

My Odysseus fanart based on my stories

[necromelli]

your first christmas with finnick was a few months after your games. you had isolated yourself in your new home, refused to talk to anyone or do anything, but somehow, sixteen year old finnick and mags managed to drag you out of your house. finnick pretended something happened to mags and he didn't know what to do, and despite the smirk that threatened to dissolve his lie, you followed anyways.

you were greeted with the smell of homemade cooking, even from the outside of mags house. some sort of fish caught fresh cooking. fresh seaweed bread, and all sorts of desserts splayed out on the counter. you were greeted by mags smiling face, outstretched arms, and a big kiss to your cheek. the first thing she handed you was a soft, knit sweater that was specially made just for you. with a simple glance, you saw finnick's grinning face as he held up his own matching sweater. he was so excited that you couldn't help but feel excited too. mags insisted you stood near the tree with finnick so she could get a picture of her 'two favorite kids' (it's one of your favorite photos, and you keep a tiny version of it with you wherever you go).

then, finnick is far too eager to open the few presents that are under the tree. you don't remember the last time you ever saw the boy so excited — childishly excited — and so you try to burn it into your memory. despite the fact you didn't prepare any gifts for you, mags and finnick still had three little gifts wrapped for you. mags got you a nice notebook and spiced, wintertime tea set. finnick got you new pens to go with your notebook, obviously planned. and really, you're having a ton of fun despite the fact you weren't planning on celebrating the holidays.

then, mags is in the kitchen cooking again, and she tells both you and finnick to get out so she can concentrate in peace (finnick is bursting with energy). so, the two of you go sit down by the beach, and as you're sitting there with your new gifts, wrapped in the soft sweater mags made, you decide that you like this little family. while finnick is knee deep in the water saying 'it isn't that cold', you're drawing on three hagstones you found (it was perfect, really. they were all in the small spot, waiting to be found) and pulling fishing wire through to make an ornament. it's got three little stick figures in varying heights, meant to represent the three of you.

and mags tears up when you show her the present, and when you give finnick's his, he's definitely sniffling. (by the next holiday, you realize finnick is just overly sentimental during holidays). you mumble out something along the lines of 'hagstones are supposed to provide protection and you guys make me feel safe and I wanted you guys to feel safe too'. it's cheesy when they both hug you, but you don't mind. even when finnick laughs at you for crying, despite the fact he was crying too. and then mags scolds you two for fighting, but it doesn't last long because christmas dinner is done and you're all eating.

then, just when you think it's over, you three end up on the couch, wrapped in some big, fluffy, duvet drinking hot coco listening to music. you swear they put sleep syrup in your coco without you noticing because you feel so safe and content, for the first time since the games, that you're falling asleep tucked under mags arm like an eight year old listening to her and finnick talk.

[thetxtdevil]

TXT as greek gods seducing the mortal reader, pleeeeeease 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

That's it, that's the request (love your writing 💕)

This is such a lovely request, I just read a TXT Demigod by @beomiracles its so cute >_<

--suggestive--

Yeonjun - Zeus

What this god wants, he gets, so Yeonjun is not nonchalant with seducing you. Appearing in your room at night during a thunder storm after you had a stressful day. You worked in the vegetable garden and it seems like Demeter was not working with you as all your vegetation turned into mold. You were scolded at so much for your work it left you crying. The once blue skies rolled into dark grey showing the people that the gods were angered. Yeonjun wanted to make up for your bad day calming you and leaving soft kisses of reassurance. Eventually to open up to the god giving all of you for him to worship.

Soobin - Poseidon

The beach is your happy place, a place of soothing sounds and salty scents. The waves never settled when you walked by, the ocean never changed from is captivating blue, this had you coming back for more. One day you walk to the shore to be surprised to see the foam concave into a trail of the most beautiful sea shells leading you to the depths of water. The seashell trail led you to a grove, flat rock that was shaped like a lounging chair decorated with fresh seaweed. Looking up you see you're in a bubble of sea life, you admired the fish swimming above until you got a glimpse of a tall handsome man, he walks out of the water and into your air bubble. Soobin lifts your chin to look at his ocean eyes, "There’s more than the ocean to love, my dear."

Beomgyu - Dionysus

A little too much wine never hurt anyone, right? You sat there along the stone table amongst your fellow scholars having a party when a extremely beautiful man you've never seen before sits next to you. "Fresh grapes from my garden" the man says lifting a bottle to be acknowledged. You watch as He pours you a glass of wine, looking back into his warm brown eyes you see a suspicious glint in them. "You're not poisoning me are you?" Beomgyu chuckles, "I'd never sacrifice a gorgeous women like you." You smile and take the cup, the crisp complexity taste of the liquid instantly consumes you. One after another you turn drunk making you get your courage up, just as Beomgyu wanted. Too drunk to care of who’s watching you sit on the man's lap as he gladly starts kissing you.

Taehyun - Hades

Picking out flowers was your hobby, you made the most ratifying arrangements. However you found yourself giving these arrangements to the ones who’s passed. Little did you know you were sending them to Taehyun the god of the underworld. You've been running into many wilted florals but they all surround surrounding the most exotic petals. You picked them out to reveal the most divine bouquets of flowers you've ever made. Walking towards the graveyard a dark figure stops you, this figure made you shiver, fear built up in your stomach. "Those flowers are for you" Taehyun said "Oh, well thank you, they're beautiful" "Not as beautiful as you" he gets closer to you taking a flower putting it into your hair before kissing you.

Huening Kai - Hermes

Kai the messenger god always admired you going horse back riding. Your hair drifted with the wind, you knew how to steer the horse, you were magnificent to him. One lucky day of perfect weather you speed through the grassy field you come upon a man steady on his own horse. You couldn't help but slow the horse to greet the man. Looking at his full pouches stashed you ask "Do you have anything to sell." "More like a trade" Kai smirks lifting up a precious set of gold jewelry making you sit in awe. You leap off the horse walking up to the man to get a better look, "I have nothing to trade." His wrinkled smile made you weak, this man was so alluring. "Sure you do" you quirk an eyebrow at him, "in return you give me all of you."

P.s. my grammar is horrid especially in this fic and you’re going to deal with it :/

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[11queensupreme11]

OKKKKAY IDK IF YOU STILL NEED HELP FOR PERCY’S SCENT! But as someone who used to work as a fragrance chemist this is up my alley 😤 you should’ve said something sooner girlie.

Also please note idk why but it won’t let me put the pics with each perfume I’m talking about so I’m putting the pics in order from what I typed

BVLGARI AQVA MARINE… hear me out.. it’s for men 😭 BUT GIRL look what it has… I LIKE THIS ONE CAUSE WHEN I SMELLED IT ONCE IT HAD A NICE SALTY SEAWEED VIBE LIKE SMELL and our girl is called seaweed brain 🥹 and look at the bottle … it kinda matches her eyes

So the rest aren’t best to worst just a whatever and what I remember 😭

Heeley's Sel Marin (unisex) Okay so this one is nice it def got a salt water smell almost like you walking on the beach when it’s sunny and you kinda smell the saltiness the ocean has to offer when walking near the ocean and it does have a seaweed funk to it not as much but it’s there.

Tom Ford Oud Minerale (unisex fragrance) Okay so here is this one… I go shopping for perfume/ cologne a lot so I have smelled this one recently, so I add the description if you wanna read it, if I remember this one does capture the fragrance of the ocean but it does have a bit of “fresh water” but it’s a bit brackish (so it’s between fresh and seawater) so it’s does capture the sea heavily almost like when you go walking during the night and the breeze is blowing in the air and you can smell the ocean a bit more than the day ( that how I see it)

Armani Privé - Bleu Lazuli Okay so this is not like beach or ocean but it does have nice smell (the description explains it nicely ) I know of this one cause I used to buy it 😭😭 the design is so pretty and it match daddyseidon aesthetic too 😭 # bias

Jo Malone Wood Sage and Sea Salt (Unisex) So this one is nicceee I put this cause it says salty in the description but tbh it leans toward freshie and it captures the smell of the ocean quiet nicely but it’s a little woodsy tho and it made me think of her daddy cause of this chapter where Anubis said she got her dad scent all over her (isn’t the mf scenting her or something???). So it made think how they may smell alike but people can smell her dad’s scent so that’s where the woodsy comes in to tell their scents apart.

Sea of Gray

I honesty came across this one when doing my research and the description seems on point for you tbh I haven’t smelled it but what it says sounds like it may be but if has that ocean like feel I am not sure … also the first website I clicked said it cost $22 which is cheap if Percy ever wants to buy it compare to the rest of them 😭 this I couldn’t add the description but you can search them up

Anyway you can see that even tho they have a salty/ fresh water based to some they always have an extra thing added like spice or vanilla so don’t think toooo much on it. Cause even these things aren’t 100% close to smelling like the actual sea. But hopefully the description of them can help you!!

IM SORRY BESTIE, I ALREADY GOT THE FRAGRANCE FROM HER I SHOULD'VE WENT TO YOU FIRST 😭😭😭

i picked mermaid's embrace from deep midnight perfumes

literally i just googled "perfume mermaids sirens" and then a reddit post came up and i saw this one listed 😭 i liked the description so i went with it 💀

BUT YOU USED TO WORK AS A FRAGRANCE CHEMIST????? omg i remember your super detailed post about the yanderes scents and that explains so much lmaooo that sounds so cool though!!!

[ms--lobotomy]

Happy Mermay to all who celebrate! Here's the beginning of a little series with Mothman. [Next]

Summary: You and your crew are called in to rescue a large beached mammal. The creature is more human than you expected.

Word Count: 1301

Content Warnings: Injury and blood, needles/injections, Morty's kind of a prick but he's HURTING ok??

Image Credit: @squishyowl (the tentacles fit really well here)

It was beginning to get ungodly hot out this time of year, even at this time in the morning. You'd woke up, donned a tank top and some shorts and went out with a team of wildlife rescuers from the aquarium nearest you, ready for anything. From the conversation between the other six rescuers, you gathered that it was a rather large, mammalian creature. A manatee, most likely. You shuffled your feet, excited for your first manatee rescue. Other animals were quite nice too, you'd just never rescued an entire beached manatee before.

The vehicle pulled up at the beach, not bothering to find a parking spot. You exited the vehicle with your coworkers, grabbing supplies for marine mammal rescue. Looking at the ground, you bumped into the tallest one, a large, bulky man you'd known as Typhus.

"Sorry!" you exclaimed, and he chuckled in front of you.

"You're okay," he said as you and your team found your way to the boardwalks. Typhus and some of the more physically strong members were carrying the stretcher, you were carrying one of the signs for civilians to keep away. You never knew who would be at the beach at 4 am.

The two at the front stopped dead in their tracks when they saw what was beached. You ran into Typhus's back again as he stopped suddenly, and he didn't respond. You peeked out from behind him, and your eyes widened.

"No way..." the other at the front said, a short, portly girl with a brown ponytail. She shone her phone light on the merman in front of everyone.

You were the first to come up to him, running towards him from behind Typhus. He and the rest followed you, but he didn't break out into a sprint like you did, your sneakers digging into the rough sand. As you came closer, you heard faint cries in a low, raspy voice.

You knelt next to him after casting the sign aside. He was pale, paler than most people you'd seen. His hair was stark white, but his face wasn't too lined. His eyes were seaweed green, and his tail shone in the phone light. It was yellow and green, spotted with a forked tail. He was large, very large. Your head and torso combined were less than his torso. And he was covered in scars, fresh and still bleeding. There was blood pooling in the sand.

"You're..." you said as Typhus and then the others came up to you, standing behind you.

The merman groaned, moving onto his side to face your entourage. "Who are you," he rasped, retreating back into himself.

"We... we're here from the local aquarium," you said as you and a few others began to dress his wounds. He winced as you touched them, towels lapping up fresh blood. "We're going to fix you up for a bit and then release you, okay?"

You felt one of the others' stares hot on your back. You looked behind you towards a shorter man, skinny with hair going just beyond his shoulders. He looked down, and you turned back and cleared your throat. He regarded all of you with a glare.

"Release me now," he huffed.

"I..." you started before Typhus cleared his throat. He knelt down next to you.

"We can't release you," said Typhus. He was closer to his face, and you looked at him. He had a little bit of scruff on his face, and his olive skin glowed in the light of the phone flashlight.

"That's bullshit," cried a voice from behind you. You turned to see another shorter man with cropped hair. "If the government finds out about this guy, they're going to take him and..." he stopped, folding his hands.

You gulped. "He's right," you said. "We get a lot of our funding from the state. If they find out he's a merman, they might do things to him that I personally don't want," I said.

"Well, are you just going to release him then?" asked a girl just a little taller than you. She crossed her arms as you ran your towel along another wound.

"I can go back--" he started before you interjected.

"There's a saltwater pool at the place I rent," you said. "I'm sorry, but we can't let you out like this. We're going to give you some stitches in the van, and then you're going to stay in my pool until you recover. After that, I promise we can release you."

He sighed. "Fine," he huffed. "My father will be wondering where I am, though..."

"He'll know in due time," you said as the stronger members of your team began to hoist him onto the stretcher. His tail and his head peeked off of it, and you dashed towards his head to steady it. He looked at you with a gruff expression as he was carried off of the beach and onto the boardwalk.

"Look. I barely know you, but my job is to keep you safe and healthy, alright?" you said quietly towards him. "Can you tell me your name, at least?"

"Mortarion."

"That's lovely, Mortarion. I'm..." you said your name just like you've said it a thousand times before.

He grumbled in response as you hauled him off of the boardwalk and into the vehicle. The back was filled with medical supplies, old things repurposed into animal rehabilitation equipment. But what was before you teetered on the precipice between animal and man like you had never seen before.

"Quickly!" shouted the last one to get in the van. They put on a long white lab coat, tying back their long blonde hair as the rest of the team rushed around them. "Get me the anesthetic."

You turned around. There was a general anesthetic behind you. Perfect. You grabbed it and strode over towards the doctor, putting it in their hand.

"It might take me a while to find his veins," they whispered in your ear. "Can you... can you calm him down while I figure him out?"

"Yes, Stella," you nodded, looking at him. He was groaning in pain again, his eyes half open. You sheepishly walked your way down to him and knelt to his eye level. His hair was in his face, so you brushed it out of him. He recoiled at first, but after breathing a little bit, he relaxed.

"We're here to help you," you said quietly while the rest of the group scurried around you.

"You've said that," he sighed. "I want to go back."

"Whatever hurt you hurt you good," you replied. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? I promise you it will be a few weeks at the most."

"I suppose I don't have a choice in the matter," he said. Stella grabbed his arm, looking for a place to insert the needle.

"How well do you do with needles?" you asked, assuming they had needles underwater.

"I am nothing if not resilient," he grumbled. "A needle is nothing."

"Alright, I found a vein, I'm about to inject him," said Stella.

"Okay, Mortarion," you started. "You're going to be knocked out for this, but we're going to stitch up your wounds. You're going to recover in my pool for a short period, then we're going to release you. Then you can tell your father everything that happened. I promise you, you're going to be safe here." You grabbed for his free hand, and he let you take it, your fingers barely able to mesh with his.

"Very well," he sighed.

"Alright, it's going in in 3... 2... 1..."

"Count for me," you said.

"Just count?" he asked, puzzled.

"That's what the doctor told me to do when I went under last time."

"Doctor?" he asked. "Alright. One, two..."

[colorfuleclipse]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴

genre; fluffier than a blanket mermaid!reader x anton

warnings; literally so cute it will make you blush and kick your feet

anton hardly ever kept secrets, he was far too nervous half the time to really pull off any lies but this? this was his biggest lie ever. with exams coming up and stress from his competitions anton found himself an absolute wreck, tossing and turning in his sheets unable to get a decent nights rest. so he did what any normal teenage kid would do, he snuck out and went to the beach to get some fresh air and relax in the ocean.

the feeling on his skin cooled his head, he could spend hours and hours in the water if given the chance. the sounds of the waves allowing him to think more clearly, god the ocean was just where he needed to be.

a brush against his leg was nothing unusual, despite knowing it was seaweed something in his gut made his hair stand up a bit. but anton wasn’t swimming around in the dark just to be scared so he moved around and tried to let it go, that is until it happened again.

before he could even get scared something that felt like a hand grabbed him and pulled him under the waves by his ankle, adrenaline running through his veins he was scared to open his eyes but faced his fears and did so. and there you were, the most beautiful thing anton had ever seen. mermaids were only but a myth weren’t they? then why was anton seeing one with his own eyes? you were gorgeous, the hair framing your face was just right and your wide eyes staring deep into his own. your features were perfect and the tail you sported was the prettiest color a human could even imagine.

you swam closer, holding his face and making observations. anton had never felt so nervous, more nervous than anytime he’d ever lied. were you going to eat him alive? sacrifice him for legs? drown him? this feeling in his stomach was a mix of worry and admiration.

grabbing him by the arms you pulled the both of you above the water, taking a deep breath anton found he was below the surface longer than he realized.

“…hel…lo?”

“…hi”

you gasped at him, he spoke!

“you!… speak!”

“yes” he let out an airy laugh “do you?”

you nodded your head enthusiastically, a large smile on your gorgeous surreal face. he found it cute and smiled along at your adorable behavior.

“come!”

you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him under, swimming along for a good few minutes before bringing him up again inside a small cave. he thanked his years of swimming that he was able to hold his breath for as long as you swam.

he found you to be more fluent in language than he would’ve ever believed and you found the same of him, that night you spent hours talking about life and all that it entailed. throughout the tireless hours you grew fond of him and made him promise to visit you in his sleepless nights, and that’s how anton spent most of his nights. in your arms in the warm cave you two call home.

[babeilovemonsters]

It's incredibly rare for me to post twice in one day, but I can't get merfolk out of my head. This one is more self indulgent, but I still hope you enjoy!

You just love to collect seaglass and rocks. Who doesn't? Seaglass is so, so pretty, and soft, the result of something ugly and dangerous becoming delicate and smooth, while every single stone and rock is completely unique, with it's own story to whisper in your ear, as gentle as the lapping waves.

But the beach is connected to one of the most vast biomes known to us. Few people truly know what goes on in that place. What lurks beneath the surface, cleverly dodging our eyes and avoiding our traps. Yet from time to time, something is bound to slip up. Sometimes as small as a scale, and sometimes as big as a whale. Today, you found that something. A mer.

They were nothing like what you were maybe expecting. You'd heard tales of perfect, pale skinned models, with the lower bodies of beautiful fish. This merfolk was nothing like that. Their skin a dark green, like seaweed, with bumps and scrapes, freckles and spots. Their tail was a nice red, and looked to mimic the appearance of a red snapper in both colouration and shape. They were fairly small, only around 4ft long, and thick, with a soft, round belly and chubby arms. Their hair was a darker shade of green than their skin, but didn't look at all like hair, moreso like the tendrils of a jellyfish. They were... beautiful.

You weren't sure what to do exactly. It's not like this had ever happened to you before. It was barely out of sight of the public beach, half in the water, half out, bleeding out from several deep wounds all over their body. If you left them here, they'd likely die. But if they were a siren, they could kill you soon after rescue. You thought about it for a while, not even sure if they were still alive, before jumping back as they let out a sudden gasp. They appeared to be able to breathe air at least, blessed with both lungs and gills, so that's one less problem.

You decide to do the selfless thing, and gently wrap the mer in your beach towel, leaving room for them to breathe, but making sure to cover them from the masses. You hurry back home as quick as possible, checking for their pulse every now and then to make sure they're still kicking. Metaphorically speaking. Once home, you head straight to the bathroom, turning on the bathtub tap and carefully placing them inside, tending to their wounds as the tub slowly fills. You remember salt water fish can't really breathe in fresh water, so you just hope the air is enough intake for them, and leave to let them heal in peace.

In all honesty, you nearly forget about them. It isn't until a few hours later when you hear water splashing from the bathroom that you're hit with a sudden realisation. You quickly hurry to the bathroom, only to find your little catch very much awake, thrashing and panicking at the strange environment. You attempt to coax them down, but alerting them to your presence only startles them more, as they breach the water's surface, snarling like a feral animal, baring their jagged shark-like teeth. Their bold yellow eyes stare daggers into you, unblinking.

You take a few steps back out of the bathroom, holding up your hands in surrender. You speak gently, in the softest way possible, just hoping they can understand English. They don't back down at first, but eventually, they grow fatigued from their injuries, seeming to just give up and accept your words of reassurance. Worst case scenario to them, you eat them and their pain ends. But of course, you don't do that. You sit with them, trying to encourage them to talk back.

They certainly seem to understand, as they respond to your questions with a tired nod or head shake, but they only ever verbally respond with little chirps and growls. You realise they may not have the same vocal chords as you do. Shit. Scratch that plan. You then turn to sign, telling them how to sign certain things. They barely pay attention at first, but eventually begin to cooperate, copying your signs. Your praise seems to surprise them at first, like they don't fully get why it's a big deal, but by the early hours of the morning, you've taught them basic phrases and letters, and they've started to take this praise as something to work towards.

Of course you aren't immune to sleep, so after ordering some foods containing shrimp and seaweed from your local Chinese restaurant for them, you go to bed.

This routine keeps up for a while. You get some actual fish for them to eat, not just takeout, and try teaching them more sign, to make communication much easier. As the days turn into weeks, they begin to heal, until eventually, they're well enough to go back out there. Still not fully recovered, but no longer bleeding, and now strong enough to brace the waters.

You wait for nighttime before daring to take them back to the beach, and duck down in a small cove to release them. They dart off at first, leaving you a bit sad, as they didn't seem to bother saying goodbye. But they soon return before you can sulk off back home, offering you a fish they had caught in their jaws. You politely decline, but tell them you'd love to see them again, and teach them more sign.

And so you do. Nearly every day, you duck down in your little cove, and meet your fast healing friend, to catch up and Google new things to sign together. It becomes routine for you now. The mer even begins to bring you rocks, shells and seaglass every time you visit. You think nothing of it, of course. They're just being nice! Until one day, they get visibly fed up with this part of the routine, and use whatever signing knowledge they have to ask why you keep taking the gifts without accepting the request.

Request? You weren't aware. Was this gift giving actually a ritual in mer culture? You apologise profusely, asking what their request was, and offering to give back what they'd given. They decline that offer, but finally clarify, that's how merfolk request a partnership. They had been trying to court you for little over a month, and you hadn't noticed.

You at first decline, unsure if that's morally acceptable. But... you give it some thought. Actually, why would that be so bad? They're sweet, and cute. And you've always been a bit of a monsterfucker. Surely it's worth a shot!

... right?

Part 2 is in the comments now.

[inkformyblood]

footprints in the sand (AleRudy Mermay)

Modern AU, Priest Rudy x Mer Ale

Father Rodolfo Parra is a man of routine. 

He’s been much the same way since he was a young man, poured fresh into the structure of the army and letting it mould him into something, anything, else from what he had been. 

Because he is a sinner.

Denial becomes easier when he never lets himself have anything; no fancy trinkets bought with the scraps he keeps of his wages after sending the majority back home, no brothers-in-arms to share a grin with when his mouth fills with mud and sweat burns his eyes so much he can’t make out the sky above, no pretty girl to warm his bed because she would look at him and she would know what he is. He gives himself nothing and tells himself that it is living, that he can live like that. 

His congregation is a small one, a handful of devoted regulars gracing the pews of his far-flung church with the occasional guilty faces around the holidays. He isn’t, couldn’t be, Rodolfo Parra to them so he is Father Parra instead. He is dark robes, white collar, rosary at his side, benediction given shape and voice. He doesn’t deserve it, didn’t ask for it, but he is here all the same. Nothing changes here, not really. The majority of the homes cluster further south than his church, leaning into each other around the main street of the village that runs down to the single functioning pier. They’re a brightly coloured inflorescence beyond Rodolfo’s window as he pushes the shutters open, shaking the morning dew from his hand and wrinkling his nose at the few that impact his hair, running into his curls. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” Rodolfo begins, breaking open into a yawn. His teeth cut into the back of his palms, a few imprints that would fade by the time that the kettle worked its way up to a boil, but they would exist for a brief moment of time, worthy for that moment. He blindly fumbles his feet into his slippers, saved from festering in the donation box from another month, a wide stain blotched over the tartan fabric, and makes his way into the kitchen directly off from his bedroom. 

Every morning starts the same: the kettle set to boil, his mug retrieved from the draining board and a spoonful of coffee tipped into it. It is an expected part of his role, as much a part of his image as a priest as his cassock and his prayers, and Rodolfo will play the part he has been assigned. With his mug in hand — warmth bleeding into his skin, nearly scalding him with how quickly he picked it up and he can barely remember what it feels like to hold someone’s hand but he thinks it felt something like this — Rodolfo steps out onto the small beach behind his home. 

Damp sand clings to the bottom of his loose trousers, an early cold breeze biting at the exposed skin of his wrists, the hollow of his throat. He is isolated enough out here that he doesn’t feel the need to pull on something more substantial. Rodolfo is only going to be seen by one person, after all.

It is sacrilege, a betrayal of everything he is trying to be, the image of Father Parra fading like a photograph erased and restored too many times, curling at the edges as a flame draws nearer, and Rodolfo is so fucking tired. He has his routine, his denial, and this is a fine line drawn between them, pulling against the restraints he fastens around his own neck with every step.

“Alejandro?” Rodolfo calls as he nears the small bay. He blows the steam away from his coffee before he takes a sip, transferring the mug to his other hand. He flexes his fingers, the heat burrowing down to the bone, but it wouldn’t last long in the wind rolling in from the sea or the flecks of water dotting against his cheek. The bloodstains on the rocks surrounding the natural hollow have long since been washed away, but Rodolfo avoids the memory of them all the same as he moves closer. 

The water is dark, his view obscured by a mass of seaweed and other plants that run riot over the base of the pool, and the surface is mostly undisturbed except from the ripples sent cascading over the surface from the sea spray hitting the farest edge. 

“Rudy, my love!”

Rodolfo looks up sharply, a flush already ablaze in his cheeks, and he meets Alejandro’s gaze like it is the easiest thing in the world. 

Alejandro grins, his teeth sharp, serrated. “It’s good to see you again. I missed you.”

The wine at the church is dark and red, splashing like blood when Rodolfo pours it into the huge decanters to dilute it down further. The smell clings to him, curls eager claws into his skin like the fabled devil on his shoulder to whisper temptation into his ear, rich enough to buy a house on the mainland and keep it stocked to the gills. He breathes in that scent now, an undercurrent beneath the salt of the sea and the earthen bite of his coffee, the old tang of copper as his lip splits and bleeds as he worries at it.

“I see you every morning,” Rodolfo says. He can’t hold Alejandro’s gaze for long, taking in the other man, creature, being, in careful glances. Like looking at the sun if the sun could preen, if it could extend a shimmering blue tail into the water and press a broad hand to it’s forehead in a mockery of a swoon.

Alejandro watches Rodolfo out of the corner of his eyes, his gaze darker than the shadows the early morning light casts across his face. “I still miss you.”

He slides into the water easily, the flare of his gills on his ribs just before he disappears beneath the surface reminding Rodolfo of a wound. The same carved expanse pulled over the side of the wooden statue in his church, palms bloody, expression serene and tortured at the same time. He kneels before it every night, searching for meaning in the pale wooden scars, pressing his clasped hands to his mouth and biting at the jut of his knuckles until they bled.

He is clumsy in the kitchen, that’s all, a lie designed to soothe the worries of his congregation as they press servings of food into his hands, eager to take care of him like he’s a stray cat abandoned in a cardboard box. 

Alejandro surfaces next to him, his hair darker with water and momentarily clinging to his scalp. In another life, this could be nothing more than a chance encounter at a beach, Rodolfo dragged out by one of his fellow students under the pretence of getting some sunshine and deposited in some shade the moment he can wriggle away. Alejandro would be… a surfer, sun-kissed and glorious, his skin still cool from the water as he reclined next to Rodolfo so he could catch his breath. Rodolfo wouldn’t be able to speak to him, the noose of his priest’s collar drawn too tight even if he isn’t wearing it, but Alejandro would grin at him, tipping his head back so the water rolled down the curve of his shoulders, before he  spoke.

It would be easy, to live like that. All Rodolfo would need to do is waver, just once.

Rodolfo sits down carefully, ignoring the immediate chill from the slick rock beneath his palm, the scabbed-over protrusion of his knees. His mug is still warm, a trickle of steam escaping from the surface as he offers to Alejandro — Rodolfo’s hand steady even as he wishes for some kind of tremor, something he could blame on reluctance instead of the twist in his belly whenever he thinks about Alejandro. Alejandro accepts, twisting the mug to drink from the same side as Rodolfo, the same spot.

Part of the routine. Expected but it still would have been kind for Alejandro to pull Rodolfo forwards until his head is beneath the water and drown him, swallowing down his final gasp of air.

“Your wound looks better,” Rodolfo says instead. He drags his thumb over his palm (Hail Mary, full of grace) and it’s still warm, some latent heat buried beneath the topography of his skin. He thinks he might bleed with the force of everything he isn’t saying, can’t say, that is trapped beneath his skin, burrowing into his bones to infest the hollow spaces inside. 

He’d found Alejandro here a few weeks ago, lying senseless against the rocks with his side cut open and his blood floating on the surface of the water like an oil spill. Rodolfo had thought he was a human, a sailor fallen overboard from a nearby ship or a tourist trying his luck in the storm, but the splash of scales over the crest of Alejandro’s face and neck, the dappling over his chest had convinced him otherwise before he’d even see the other man’s tail. 

He is truly divinely beautiful.

Alejandro nods, taking another sip of coffee. His nose wrinkles as he does so, still trying to work out if he enjoyes the taste even now. The mug would smell like brine when Rodolfo would carry it back inside, the coffee bitter and salty but he would still drink the final dregs, his mouth pressed against the same space as Alejandro’s is currently. 

“I have healed well under your tender care.” Alejandro holds the mug out for Rodolfo to take before he lifts himself out of the water to sit next to Rodolfo. The wound on his side has healed to be nothing more than a thin line, pale against the rich tan of his skin, the vibrant blue of his scales. 

Rodolfo’s fingers twitch, the impulse to reach out and touch burning through every nerve he has, threatening to ignite him from the inside out. He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes copper, the pain dull in comparison to everything else rioting inside his head. “Will you— Are you going to be leaving soon?”

“I hope to stay a while longer but I must ask you a favour for this, Rudy.”

Always Rudy to Alejandro, never Rodolfo, not Father Parra, just Rudy. 

“What is it?” Rodolfo asks, his voice teetering on a whisper, halfway fallen from grace already and he can’t find it in himself to care. He is so tired. So, so tired. 

Alejandro turns to face him fully, his hands clasped beneath his chin like a supplicant, and Rodolfo bites back a grin at seeing such a familiar gesture on such an unfamiliar frame. 

“Can I stay with you for a while? Not here—” Alejandro gestures to the pool with a single wave of his hand that seeks to encompass the entirety of the world in the action “—but there. With you.” He points over Rodolfo’s shoulder and Rodolfo turns despite himself. 

His house sits squat against the backdrop of the church it is attached to, connected but separate. It is plain grey stone, the remnants of limewash clinging to one wall and another overrun by skeletal ivy. From this angle, Rodolfo can just make out the open shutters of his bedroom window. 

Rodolfo is a sinner. He is a sinner and he is tired of denying himself everything. He won’t deny Alejandro this. 

“Yes,” Rodolfo says, smiling up at Alejandro. 

The other man beams, sunlight pale in comparison, and throws himself forward into Rodolfo’s arms, burning, burning bright, and Rodolfo holds him close, never wanting to let go again.

[applebinnie]

▶︎ˏˋ aye-aye, captain! >< ´ˎ˗

𖦹 part I ! 𖦹

ᯤ fishing boat operator!leehan ᯤ

→ Your neighbors back in your family province owned a really cool fishing boat. The sweet couple taught you how to use it so you could help with fishing duties during the summer. However you stumble upon the said boat, which is now (unfortunately) under the management of their oddball of a son. 

warnings: none! except for the fact that I'm vv mid at writing and it's my first time writing in eng so please reduce your expectations to ground level 😭

💭: I'm still experimenting with the whole y/n thingy, and I was thinking, should I name mc yuu or should I just keep it at y/n? lmk!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

You woke up at the crack of dawn to get dressed and ready. It's the summer, and that means you'll be staying at the province! You looked forward to everything the place has to offer, from the fresh air to the salty fragrance of the beach. But one thing you always look forward to is the nice family next door and their cool fishing boat! You can't recall if you still know how to use it. The captain gave you a crash course on how to operate it last summer, but you weren't really able to give it a go yourself. You decided that the first thing that you wanted to do today was to fish!

You see the captain and his wife smiling upon your arrival. They always treated you like their own daughter, greeting you with a warm pot of your favorite soup and a kiss on the forehead. It was always like that, except now something is missing from the usual greetings. Aside from their dog, Connie, there had always been a third figure peeking from behind Mr. Captain, waiting for the right time to jump and chase you around the front porch.

Leehan, the couple's only son wasn't around to welcome you, which was odd, considering that he was always the first one to approach and show you his new fishes or brag about their cool boat. He always trailed closely behind Mr. Captain, carrying his adorable little Connie. You always thought he was a little weird, but that doesn't mean he isn't the sweetest boy you've met.

"I haven't seen him since this morning! that boy ran out the door as soon as he finished eating, I don't even know anymore," Mr. Captain sighed. You finished eating and went out to look for Leehan.

"Han?" you called out. You went out to the sand, but you couldn't find him anywhere! You then saw Riwoo, the kid who always carried around a camera and small packets of bird food to feed the gulls.

"Riwoo!" You waved at him. He wore a beach hat with a wide rim, covered in sand and seaweeds.

"Yuu!" He waved back. Usually, when Riwoo is around, a few steps behind him is Woonhak. You didn't even need to make an effort to see Woonhak, who was clearly behind the mango tree. No wonder he always lost during hide and seek games, because he thought that if he can't see you, then you can't see him either, and the constant peeking and giggling gave him away.

"Boo!" You tapped at Hak's shoulder. He scrambled to hide his phone, sliding it in the pockets of his shorts. "Hey Y/n, didn't see you there, ha...ha." He chuckled nervously. You were starting to think that he was hiding something. You looked behind him.

"Are you okay? Are you looking for something?"

"Nothing, thought you were hiding an insect of any kind to shove to my face. "

Woonhak laughed at your response. But it was true, he was indeed thinking of scaring you with a fake plastic lizard.

Still no sign of Leehan. You figured that he's probably with Taesan at their favourite usual spot: the docks.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

💭: "But val, you're a riize blog!" I had a little too much fun making this I had to restrain myself so I cld finish the other fics during the VERY little free time that I have 😭 also, I had no idea that it was saturday today I legitimately thought it was friday ?!?! anyways I hope you guys like it RAGHRAGHRAGH - val 🧸