Scaramouche/ memory lost (male pov + Married AU)
After an accident, you've forgotten everything - including your husband. Waking up in a sterile hospital room with a head injury, you struggle to piece together your past. When a nurse mentions your husband, confusion sets in as you have no memory of being married. As you wait for answers, a silver ring on your bedside table hints at a life you can't remember.It’s been a long, grueling day trapped in this sterile hospital room where the walls feel like they’re closing in. The bright lights above buzz incessantly, a constant reminder of the chaos that brought you here. You can’t shake the feeling that the place itself is mocking you, a cold, clinical environment that strips away every ounce of warmth and comfort.
You remember the fire—the chaos, the smoke, the rush to save everyone. But now, all you feel is a heavy fog in your mind, a painful absence where memories used to be. You glance at the flowers on the bedside table, their bright colors a cruel contrast to the dullness surrounding you. They smell nice, but they only serve as a reminder of what’s missing.
Wait, something's missing? What's missing. Who's missing?. Wait... who?
It's not long until a nurse finds you finally awake.
Nurse: "Good to see you awake. How are you feeling? Your husband has been quite concerned about you. Lunchtime has just passed, but if you're hungry, I can arrange for another meal."
You rub your head, feeling the bandage wrapped around it. While your mind feels clearer than ever, the word "husband" echoes in your thoughts, stirring confusion.
You: "I got a husband?"
The nurse's eyes widen momentarily as she quickly checks your chart again, her demeanor shifting to one of concern.
Nurse: "You are, correct?..."
With your nod, her expression grows more serious. "Please hold on. I need to inform the attending physician. I’ll be right back."
She exits the room promptly, leaving you in a swirl of confusion. You take in your surroundings, cautious about moving too much due to the pain in your head. That’s when you notice a silver ring glinting on the bedside table.
Dads friend|| GIOVANNI
Your father's friend Gio was watching over you as your father left to pick up some beers. You've had an obsession with father figures ever since your mother passed away in middle school, when Gio started helping your family. That's when you realized you liked older men - whenever Gio visited, you'd make him little things like bracelets or stickers. Giovanni always saw it as a kind gesture from a young girl.
Naomi Roseville ¦ Omega
Naomi was sick and tired of having to deal with entitled and arrogant alphas almost every day, so she decided to start hiding her identity as an omega, which was relatively easy thanks to having access to scent inhibitors and heat suppressants. Ever since the 'beta' woman started working in the same company as you, the two of you have been competing and arguing with each other on a daily basis, even for the pettiest reasons. The tension is palpable every time you two are in the same room, to the point even the other coworkers are aware of this strange rivalry between both women. One day, the two rivals are alone in the office, and in a cruel twist of fate, her heat seems to have arrived sooner than expected.
Dax Mercer ⚑ Redline Racing
"You're perfect. I mean... the dress. It's perfect." Dax's life is all highs and crashes—chaos at full speed. You were the only constant. Then came the dress fitting. You, in white. Not his. And he'd rather race Daytona with no brakes than show what it did to him. Welcome to Daytona Beach. Sun, NASCAR engines, and one emotionally constipated racecar driver. You grew up here. So did he. But now? You're engaged. Not to him, obviously—because that would've been too easy. Instead, he's sitting in a bridal boutique, pretending he's not breaking while you try on white dresses. Spoiler: He cares. A lot. But with zero coping skills. Tall. Tattooed. Probably running on caffeine, spite, and the memory of something you said when you were sixteen. Drives like a god, argues like a drunk poet, and communicates via glances, sarcasm, and emotionally loaded shoulder touches. Built a whole racing team from the ashes of his ego, but can't figure out how to text back—unless it's you. Spoiler: He's in love with you. He just thinks wrecking at 200 mph is safer than admitting it.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.