#Black Car Service Big Sky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Saved And Fucked By The Moth Man.

Pairing: Mothman x F. Reader (Cryptozoology).

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Death/Gore, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Inhuman Anatomy, Generalized Monster-Fucking, Car Crashes, Reader's Pretty Questionable In This One, and Blood.

Based On The Results of This Poll.

You thought it could’ve been a bird, at first.

A raven, or a crow – you weren’t entirely sure. Something big and black that flew so quickly, you hadn’t been able to make out anything more specific than a dark blur and the vague impression of feathers before it was gone, vanishing into the shadows of the forest before you could realize that you'd reflexively swerved to avoid it, before you could do anything to stop yourself from crashing into the base of an oak so tall and so opposing, it wouldn’t so much as shake under the force of the collision. By the time you stumbled out of your wrecked car, the windshield shattered and the engine utterly decimated, whatever threw you off-course had been gone, and you’d been left alone on a country backroad in the middle of nowhere - bruised, sore, and miles away from the nearest city. Really, the only way your night could get worse was if—

Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance, quaking through the otherwise silent forest. You glanced up, searching for the sky through the dense canopy of overlapping branches and finding it overcast. It’d rain, pretty soon, and you’d be left lost, injured, and drenched.

Well, at least now, it really couldn’t get any worse.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and pressed your back against the most in-tact side of your car, checking if you had reception for the millionth time. Of course, you didn’t, and of course, your battery was in the single digits – too low to justify using your flashlight and risking leaving yourself alone in the dark with a dead phone and no way to call for help if you did, somehow, manage to make it to the border of civilization.

You considered crawling into what was left of the backseat of your car, turning off your phone, and hoping someone else drove down this godforsaken road in the morning, but before you could let exhaustion dampen your better judgement, you heard something in the woods rustle, the sounds of displaced leaves and cracking twigs standing out against the stillness of the woods. Somewhat hesitantly, you turned towards the disturbance, half-expecting to see wolves or coyote or, as unlikely as it was, the same over-sized bird that’d gotten you into this, but instead, much to your relief, you found a group of three men – hunters, judging by the riffles slung over their backs, the dirt caked into their shoes. None of them were wearing visibility gear, and you couldn't say it seemed like a great idea to go skulking through the forest in the middle of the night, but you were already out of your comfort zone. You couldn’t be sure what people walking around in the woods at night were supposed to look like, and at that point, you didn’t really care.

You grinned, moving to call out to them, but the oldest of the group was already addressing you, already stepping out of the forest and onto the road. “What do you think you’re doing out here, darlin’?”

Your expression faltered, but you kept your spirits up. It was fine. This was fine. You could deal with a little backwoods chauvinism until you got to a mechanic. “Got into an accident,” you said, nodding towards where your car where it bent around the oak’s trunk. “No service, either. I guess I wouldn’t be able to bother one of you kind people to call a tow truck, would I?”

There was a long, silent pause. The two younger men exchanged a glance. Again, the oldest spoke to you. “This is private property, y’know. Not a lot of folks come through this patch of woods.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know. I… I’m just in town for the convention.” One of the younger men slid his rifle off of his shoulder, taking it in both hands. The other followed in-suit. “It’s a beautiful area. If I had to get stranded, I’m glad it was here.”

“So, no relatives nearby? Nobody who’d notice if you didn’t get home in the mornin’?”

You pressed yourself against the dented metal, your smile now strained. “You know what?” You asked, forcing out an airy chuckle. “I think I’ll just walk for it. How far could the next town be, right?”

He held up a hand, signaling to the rest of his group. You heard something click, caught boots scraping against rough pavement, and watched a broad grin form across the older man’s features. “Looks like there’s gonna be a hunt tonight after all, boys.”

Your first reflex was, somewhat counterintuitively, to laugh. The sound was jarring, too loud and too stilted, cutting your lips and catching in your throat like pieces of broken glass.

Your second, triggered when one of the younger men moved to step toward you, was to run for your life.

Without thought, without hesitation, you broke into a dead-sprint. There was a holler behind you, a round of hollow clicks and earth-shaking thuds, and then, they were chasing you.

You couldn’t be sure how far you made it. It felt like you ran for seconds, or days, or years. It felt like you traveled miles, or feet, or just a few steps. Everything looked like the same repetitive blur of trees taller than your eyes could follow and roots that jutted from the earth like pikes. Their footsteps remained constant, never growing closer or farther away, always lingering somewhere just behind you, always just barely breathing down your neck. Fuck this. Fuck your car. Fuck this entire goddamn town and their stupid convention. If you made it out of this alive, you’d spend the rest of your life as far from this state as you could get. Coming here had been a stupid idea to begin with, a spontaneous trip planned at the last minute and based on a half-baked desire to see something that probably didn’t even exist. You just thought you might’ve been able to see—

Your foot caught on a half-buried stone, and you were sent crashing into the earth, your shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. You were left on the ground, cursing under your breath and holding your aching arm as you scrambled to get back on your feet, to keep moving before your would-be murderers caught up with you. You weren’t fast enough, though – you couldn’t be, not when they’d always been on your heels, not when you’d already given them an opportunity to put their quarry out of its misery. You’d barely started to push yourself up when they emerged from the tangle of trees, guns cocked and hunting knives drawn. You shrunk into yourself, threw your arms over your face in a last-ditch effort to protect yourself, despite knowing that a bullet would tear through your skin like paper, despite being able to picture your body lying lifeless on the forest floor, bleeding out in the dirt like a wild animal. The last thing you saw was the oldest man, raising his riffle and aiming towards your chest before you shut your eyes.

You heard a shot, sudden and deafening, but the impact never came.

You felt something whip past you. There was a scream, wordless and torn and cut short with a ragged screech and a wet, visceral sound – like flesh being carved open, like teeth tearing into raw meat. It was all you could do to curl into yourself, sinking into your self-made shelter as the forest descended into the sounds of carnage, only falling silent when there was nothing left to cut down. Even then, it took you long, agonizing seconds to open your eyes, to take in the gore splattered across the grass and dirt, the guns that’d been bent and twisted into shapes they weren’t meant to hold. A disembodied leg laid to your side, the torso it’d been ripped from impaled on a branch nearly twenty feet off of the ground. Clumps of torn muscle and split entrails shined reddish-silver in the limited moonlight, but you could only focus on the gore for so long.

Only a few yards away, a man stood in front of you. Only, it wasn’t a man, not really, not when you looked beyond its – his? hers? theirs? – vaguely humanoid form. Its long legs and lanky arms were coated in a thin layer of grey, shaggy fur that grew shorter and finer over its defined chest. You could make out curved talons extending from its massive hands, a pair of ringed antennae curled back along its scalp, a pair of tattered wings folded against its back. Its head might’ve been the strangest part of its anatomy; low and stooped, too round to resemble anything human and too featureless inspire anything but an uncanny sense that you weren’t supposed to be here. From a distance, the only thing you could really make out was its eyes. They were gigantic, nearly spherical – orbs of pure crimson that seemed to glow in the dim light.

Before you could stop yourself, your attention drifted downward, to the space between its legs. It took you an embarrassingly long moment to recognize what you were looking at – the shaft absent of all veins or definition beyond a perfect spiral ridge that coiled from the base to the flushed, lilac-shaded head. The tip was tapered, ending in a sharp slant and budding with something white and thick. The entire thing looked almost painfully erect, inflating it to a size that, even when compared to the rest of its massive body, sparked a raw, preservationist kind of terror inside of you. Fear took root in the pit of your stomach, sprouting up and into the hollow of your chest, making it difficult to breathe, to resist the urge to curl back into yourself and never come out.

Second to only your fear, just as pervasive and twice as instinctual, was your arousal.

It would’ve been impossible to read its nonexistent expression, but as it shifted its weight, turning to face you, you could’ve sworn the creature was looking at you with as much interest as you held for it. Its scarlet eyes were wide and unfaltering, its gaze only growing more intense as it took a step in your direction, then another, approaching you in slow, tense increments. Despite its stiffness, it didn’t seem awkward or nervous, let alone afraid of you. If anything, it seemed like it was trying not to scare you, even if you couldn’t say there was much weight behind the gesture when you were sitting among the viscera of its last three victims. Still, you held your ground, not daring to so much as blink until it was standing in front of you.

From a distance, it’d been inhumanly tall. Now that it was close enough to touch, it seemed downright monstrous.

With jerky, unpracticed movements, it reached down, towards you. You waited for a beat, then another, and when it failed to pull away or bury its talons in your chest, you hesitantly placed your hand in its palm, a knot forming in the back of your throat as its claws folded and everything up to your wrist was completely encompassed. With a sharp tug, it pulled you to your feet and held steady you when your legs, still shaking, proved too weak to hold your weight. You let out a fleeting, nervous laugh, and in response, it chittered – the sound high-pitched and tittering. It was cute, in the way seeing a lion play with a ball of yarn would’ve been cute. You were still eminently aware that the creature in front of you could end your life, but still.

“Hey,” you managed, eventually, unable to think of anything else to say. You didn’t even know if it could understand you, but you weren’t sure what else to do. “Did you… did you save me?”

Another round of chittering, a slight glimmer in its otherwise blank stare. You smiled. “Thank you, I— I’m not from around here, and I didn’t know I’d have to look out for people like that.” You bowed your head, attempting to let your eyes fall to the ground, but rather, your eyes found its cock again, pressed against its abdomen and leaking. The adrenaline that’d coursed through your veins a few minutes ago was already starting to fade, making room for something else, something closer to an anxious sort of zeal. Something that made you want to do something less than advisable.

Slowly, doing what little you could to stop your hands from shaking, you reached out, your fingertips barely brushing against its soft cheek. It nuzzled into your touch, earning a small smile, a trickle of a laugh. “Poor thing,” you mumbled, almost comforted by the fact that it couldn’t respond, couldn’t mock your poor-excuse for a seductively saccharine tone. “Do you need help with that?”

You saw its talon’s twitch, its wings flutter almost imperceptibly against its back. You weren’t aware that you were moving, not until your back was pressed against the rough bark of the nearest oak, until you felt the clawed hand that it’d wrapped around your waist drop to your hip, then your thigh. The tips of its curved talons scraped against your skin as it ran its claws from your waist to your knee, cutting through the delicate fabric of your shorts and panties and discarding the material without a second thought. The open air was cold against your exposed skin, but something quickly replaced it – a gentle, oppressive warmth that seemed to sap the chill from your skin. Your legs were thrown over its shoulders, held in place by its massive hands as it buried its face between your thighs. You barely had time to straighten your back, to brace yourself before—

Oh.

It was more tongue-like than you’d expected.

Not to say that it was a tongue – you weren’t really sure what you should call it. Long, split at the tip, just rough enough to earn a breathy gasp, a new wave of heat rushing from your core to your head, obscuring your few remaining rational thoughts with a shimmering haze. Its tongue (tendril? proboscis?) ran over the length of your exposed slit, leaving a trail of thick, viscous saliva dripping down the inside of your thighs before jerking its head upward and finding your clit, the tip of its tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as soon as it recognized the airy sounds now falling steadily from your lips for the unabashed moans they were. It was almost experimental, the way it bent and curled its tongue, clearly working towards a quickly approaching goal but constantly looking for a way to get there that much faster, to make your legs twitch that much harder, to force the coil writhing violently in the pit of your stomach wind up that much tighter.

It was all you could do to arch your back against the oak’s trunk and clench your eyes shut, your hands falling to the softened ridge between its curved antennae. Only half-consciously, your attention dominated by the feeling of its coarse tongue swirling over your clit, you raked your fingers through its cropped fur, doing what you could to show the creature your appreciation, your gratitude. You tried to be gentle, but the curling tips of its tongue slipped into your tight entrance and the world burnt white, your body jerking forward and your nails biting into its scalp. There was a deep, guttural sound from somewhere deep in its chest, and its hands rose to your hips, claws scrapping lightly against your skin as its tongue fucked into you. It was thin, but long and so flexible – twisting and coiling against the sensitive walls of your cunt, never repeating the same blissful pattern of thrusts and thrashes more than once. You found yourself grinding into its mouth, seeking out whatever friction you could with the clumsy movements of your hips. The pressure, the weight, the sensation – it was more than you could handle. You could already feel it, a certain tightness in your chest, a tension in your core that—

Without warning, without satisfaction, it pulled away from you, leaving you empty and quickly coming down from a high that you never quite reached. You let out a long whine, more desperate than disappointed, and as if to apologize, the creature nuzzled against the inside of your thigh, chirping softly. Thankfully, your reprieve was a short one. With its hands still on your hips, your body still held aloft by its inhuman strength, you were dragged away from the oak and into its chest as it stood to its full height. Your chest was slotted against the creature’s, the pointed head of its cock pressed flush to your dripping cunt. Its wings fanned out, its hips rolling against yours, and a sharp, aching moan was drawn from your lips as it thrust into you, finally filling you to the brim.

For a long moment, it was all you could do to bury your face in its chest and try to put together a coherent thought. Only half of its length was inside of you, and yet, you could practically feel it pressing into your core, rubbing against the walls of your cunt, the cork-screw ridge that ran from the tip to the base threatening to split you open. It didn’t, though, and even if it had, you couldn’t be sure you would’ve cared. Before the creature could even begin to move, to fuck into you from below, you were grinding against it, mindlessly and desperately trying to chase that fullness, that peak. It didn’t take long for the creature to answer your fervor. There was a raised notch just above the base of its cock, a notch that caught on your clit as it beat into you with heavy, rough strokes. A talon was dragged down the back of your top, tearing the fabric away and allowing its tongue to lave over your chest. All of its gentleness, all of its restraint was thrown aside as its claws dug into your hips, cutting through skin and tinting your pleasure with an intensity that wouldn’t have been possible without a drop of pain.

A scream, wild and euphoric, was torn from your throat, and you wrapped your legs around its waist, dragging your own nails over its back as you fought to keep some part of yourself grounded. Even that was an effort made in vain. You heard its wings shift, felt the air rush against your skin, and suddenly, you were breaking through the canopy – speared on the creature’s cock mid-air, being fucked against the backdrop of the dark, velveteen sky. The shock, the adrenaline, the thrill was enough to leave you clenching around the creature’s cock, your vision burning white as you came undone. You might’ve been able to come down, to melt back into its thrusts and its affection, if something hadn’t clicked in its chest, if its wings hadn’t started to move a little faster, if something hadn’t happened and the creature hadn’t started to emit a sort of reverberating droll – the sort throbbing vibration that only seemed to make the friction against your clit, the feeling of it stretching you open more perfect. You couldn’t be sure how long you stayed in that hazy, half-conscious state – limp and moaning in the arms of a monster, always either spilling over your high or riding out the aftershocks. It only came to a climax – a real climax – when the creature stiffened against you, its cock twitching violently inside of your cunt. It pulled you as close as it possibly could and, with one last wave of pulsing reverberation, released something thick inside of you – viscous and warm and translucent. Like sap. Like nectar.

Light-headed and blissed-out, you buried your face in its chest as it began to descend, the sound of your giddy laughter muffled by its fur. This time, when it pulled away from you with an apologetic chirp, you didn’t complain, only pressing one more lingering kiss into the curve of its shoulder and letting it draw back. Your legs were too weak to hold your weight, so you braced yourself against the nearest oak as the creature disappeared into the dark of the forest, returning a few moments later with a bundle of bloody fabric in its arms. A shirt – a little torn but mostly in one piece, taken from one of the hunters’ corpses, clearly meant to replace your own ruined clothes. You smiled as you slipped it over your head. It was a size too big, and it was sure to raise a few questions, but it would do until you could find help. Whatever ‘help’ meant, at that point.

When you were finished, the creature took you up again; wrapping an arm around your waist and catching you under your knees, pulling you against its broad chest. This time, as it soared over the forest, you were able to admire view, the star-lit sky and sprawling woodland before it landed where the forest had started to thin and give way to the outskirts of a small town. Slowly, carefully, it lowered you to the ground, keeping you upright when your unsteady balance wavered. You laughed and, for longer than a moment, you held its unblinking gaze, Eventually, your hands fell into its claws, your smile turning bitter-sweet and sentimental. “Will I ever see you again?”

There was a slight chittering, a gentle squeeze to your hand. You felt its tongue against your cheek and let your eyes fall shut. By the time you could bring yourself to open them again, Mothman – because it was Mothman, you could only deny it for so long – was gone, barely a silhouette in the distance. You heard the crack of thunder, and watched it fly away as the sky broke open and rain spilled out.

The next day, you would learn that a bridge about twenty miles outside of the city the creature left you in had collapsed the night before, killing hundreds.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster fucking #yandere mothman #mothman x reader #yanderecore #yancore

912 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 8 months

Text

𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑨 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻. Trafalgar Law x F! Reader

🌨 a/n: so I recently been to Austria, a country I often visit since it's literally like a dream. (plus, my mom knew she was pregnant with me there, so I was used to come back to Innsbruck as much as I could with her). But in any case I got inspired there to write this little fic, that might -or not- be a multi chapter one if you all like it. The place exists and the scam part, happened to me -kinda, the airbnb existed, but not as it was listed :P- but in any case, please enjoy and don't forget to leave some feedback if you want more~ ❄ tw: a very sfw story, that might evolve into something else if you want me to keep writing about their trip 😏 ☃ wc: 2.6k

Hijacking for the first time, what could go wrong? Maybe everything, maybe nothing.

A two-month long trip all around Europe has found you on a little village of Austria. Your boots are cold, but luckily they are snow proof ones. Your skin all bumpy, your cheeks irritated. It’s been snowing all night, and despite the sun rising for now, some clouds in the sky menace with more white blessing to fall upon your shoulders very soon.

Those little mountain streets around the Alps are wonderful, they surround mountains going up and down and in a spiral way. But those are wonderful, as long as you can drive a car with heating. And you don’t have one right now.

The crunchy sound of the snow beneath your boots mix with the melody of a glacial river running in between the mountain and the road. It is certainly beautiful, the little rocks and stones being bathed by such pure and cold water, the rests of dry leaves and some moss growing on an everlasting shadow casted by tall, enormous peaks. Everything is worth taking a picture, but you should prioritize your battery life this time around. The GPS is sometimes wonky, being that high can affect the service.

Many cars have passed by, but none of them have stopped. Little lorries carrying logs pass, cars completely drenched in dirty snow and that mix of salt that roads have during winters.

However, just when your hopes for finding someone to at least give you a ride to the next village were about to run out, the yellow shine of an old VW ban flashes before your eyes.

There, behind a curve -a very dangerous one if you ever went to the mountains- something smells like smoke and a tall man of white furry hat swears up to the skies.

You walk towards him, carefully. Who knows what is happening? Who knows who that man is capable of? There is one thing you are sure, however, and it is that this man is absolutely mad at his old van.

When peaking behind a dark wooden tree that’s now covered in spots of white snow, you discover the annoyed man is a young -handsome- one.

His van, a little rusty but still cute, seems to be having problems to keep going and the smoke coming from it shows it very well.

“Sir? Sir! Your van is catching fire!” you announce, realizing the smoke is indeed a very serious issue.

The guy of chocolate skin and tattooed hands turns around to look immediately at you and then to the back of the van. Those 70’s vehicles had actually their engines right in the back instead of the front.

And Indeed, you were right. Apparently the climb had been too tough for the poor old VW and its engine couldn’t take it any longer.

He quickly opens the back door, maybe searching for a fire extinguisher while you grab fistfuls of snow in an attempt to put down the incipient flames. Quickly enough, and with not many damages to count, the fire stops, and the only thing left is a big black spot on the back of the caravan.

“Thank you” he says, as dry as hopefully your socks. “No problem. What happened? Did the engine over heat?” you ask, curious despite his “I don’t want friends” face. “Yes; these hills are no joke. This never happened to my Polar, but there is always a first time…” he sighs, assessing the damage with a sad expression.

Apparently his van has a name; “Polar”. That’s very cute, and his eyes too. A golden shine in them looks even beautiful with the pristine white around. His tattoos do as well. You wonder about his name, and what is he doing on the road, but you are not sure if it’s proper to ask. However, he asks first.

“What are you doing here? do you have a car?” he mumbles, his voice is as attractive as he is. His eyes scan the place, but nothing catches his attention.

“No, I am actually hijacking. No one stopped so I started walking before the sun starts going down. I definitely got scammed; the Airbnb I was supposed to stay in didn’t, in fact, exist.

He grunts, almost silently. Apparently he is not happy with what happened to you but that’s it.

“Well, that’s so unsafe. I am sorry I can’t give you a ride right now. Apparently none of us have been blessed with good luck today” he says, walking around his vehicle with long legs covered in spotted jeans.

You nod. Your tongue is aching to ask about him, but you clearly catch the hint… he doesn’t want you there.

“Yep. Well, I wish you luck! I must keep going” “Same to you, be careful”

He doesn’t even look at you, something that makes you -somehow- very sad. In any case, you start walking away. There is no point in staying there… even if you have great mechanical skills that could help.

And as you do, you also have a very, very loud consciousness voice screaming at you on how could you leave him with no solution if you know it…

“Sir, you should check your water level…” you shout, a few meters away from him. The sound of your voice echoes in the huge natural immensity of the Alps and his golden eyes finally fall upon you.

He stops moving for some seconds, lost in you. You, as well, wait for him to say something else. Something like “stay with me” or “don’t go”. A total stranger you want to hang up with. A total unknown woman he wants to protect.

“You know how to fix this?” “I do…”

Or so that was what you thought.

No more than a couple of minutes took you to help him out. VW vans are noble machines; they are durable and easy to fix despite their particular design. And soon, as a part of your payment, the man that you learned is called Law and you drove away through intricate roads and huge snowflakes.

“Where are you going, (Name)-ya?” he asks, handing you an old cover from an old comic, Germa 66.

“I was supposed to stay for a couple of days in Bad Goisern, and then I thought of visiting Salzburg. I am on a long trip through Europe. What about you?” you ask, cuddling with the blanket. A certain blessing for your freezing hands.

He nods, checking the breaks before going down the hill.

“I am too. I just graduated medical school and I thought of taking a little vacation before my residency starts. I’m going to be a surgeon. A cardiac surgeon” he tells, full of dreams he fails to cover up behind a tough guy expression.

You celebrate his success, and the next couple of hours become a ping pong of questions and answers. A smile on your face that leaves your cheeks hurting accompanies you until the sun hides and the little lights on the mountains start to scatter.

You didn’t want to go down in the first village, nor the second, nor the third. Law, didn’t want you to go down his van either. You named Salzburg, and he promised you to take you there.

But the night found both of you, and apparently your mechanical skills weren’t as good as you thought the would… Polar decided to stop, in the middle of nowhere during a dark, very dark winter night.

You close your eyes as the sound of rusty gears fail and Law’s annoyance grows stronger than ever. When Polar finally loses all of the power, Law manages to agonizingly park on the side of the road and a huge sighs escapes his lips.

You peak through your left eye; his DEATH tattooed fingers squeeze the wheel, and you know he will snap at any moment. But he doesn’t…

“I’m sorry. I thought- I-“ you try to give a plausible apologize, even though you had nothing to do with it.

“No. It is not your fault… it is mine- As we didn’t stop, I have completely forgotten to fuel Polar up” Law says, absolutely mortified for such stupid mistake. Apparently you were enough distraction to keep him from the basics of road tripping.

You breath alleviated and try to stop your upcoming laughter. Your grimacing did nothing to hide it, and a big burst of laughter took over the van and everything around.

Law looks at you pissed, but a soft smirk garnishes his lips. You can’t stop, perhaps it isn’t that funny… but you feel so happy right now. And you have no idea why, since you are literally stranded in a very dark wood with temperatures below 0C and snow pooling on top of that van.

“Welp, it’s ok. We should wait until tomorrow, then” you say, knowing the risks. “You- you prefer spending the night in here? aren’t you afraid of dying?” he asks, surprised.

“I am, in fact, scared of dying. That’s why I know very well I can’t walk during a snowstorm in the middle of the night in the Alps. Plus, you are too sweet to be considered a threat” you joke, searching for some chocolate inside your backpack.

Law narrows his eyes, deepening his frown. Apparently being called “sweet” and “not a threat” is not something he enjoys.

“I could cut you open and took all of your organs out during the night” he says, serious as hell. “Go for it. Don’t forget to steal my heart, doctor” you laugh, taking your jacket off.

Law is flabbergasted; he has never confronted someone like you before… but he is beginning to like it now.

A bar of chocolate that you had kept in your backpack for too long lays too close to his nose. You shake it, offering its sweetness to him.

He takes it but doesn’t eat it. Instead, his hand gets pressed against the window behind you. Law has pinned you against the door of your side. He is not a very muscular man, but he is indeed very tall and lean… if he wanted, he could do anything to you.

Your eyes widen, big as the moon. You swallow, thinking maybe walking through the forest might be a safer option.

“L-Law… I- didn’t mean to-“ you tremble, asking yourself where did you put the Victorinox blade you bought in Switzerland… it should be enough to defend yourself, right?

You notice his chest is also tattooed as his clothes open just a little. His arms, are too. His scent, despite the danger, smells deliciously tempting…

“Don’t trust strangers that easily, (Name)-ya” he whispers, a few centimetres from your lips. Letting you go after and biting the chocolate bar as if nothing has just happened.

You remain there, frozen up with your eyes widen and your lips softly trembling. He is, in fact, very right. Law is indeed a stranger, after all.

When oxygen finally begins to reach your lungs and brain again, you move and blink the dry eyes away. Silently you sit back, properly. You aren’t able to say anything, somehow you have run out of words.

You squeeze the blanket he gave you, covering you as much as you could, making yourself as tiny as possible on that old leather seat.

“Are you ok?” he asks, so nonchalantly.

“Ye-yes, I’m… ok” you mumble back, almost sticking yourself to the passenger door. “Is it ok if I go to sleep? I’m tired”

Law nods, confused. Maybe he was just joking around, but it did scare you big time. He goes down the van and opens the back doors. You look at him disappearing in the darkness until a very little glimpse of silver light coming from the moon filters through the doors.

But, soon after, fairy lights illuminate the back allowing you to discover a very cozy space behind the front seats.

“I am glad I installed this independently from the fuel tank. I have a little power generator for the back. It’s not a hotel bed, but it does the job” he says, showing you a precarious mattress covering the entire floor of the vehicle.

You smile softly, it looks cozy and pretty. The walls are full of random posters and maps, and there is even an old picture of a younger Law with three more guys wearing fancy hats with something written in the snow. You take a closer look at it, to discover it says, “Pirates of Heart” and you giggle. What a peculiar gang name.

“Law, this is really cute. You even have a lot of blankets and cushions!” you chime, easing a little bit.

“My best friend Bepo decorated it for me, I only helped him with the lights” he says, a little embarrassed.

You jump right back, leaving your backpack in the front seat and forgetting everything for the moment. What a reckless lover girl.

“I am going to sleep in the front seat, don’t worry. Use as many blankets as you need” he informs you, closing the back doors and leaving you there. You most probably were to say “no, stay here” but you simply couldn’t.

After all, this tattooed doctor is a gentleman. Right?

You let yourself rest for a bit on that improvised bed, with your sight blurring while looking at the fairy lights. The scent of the blankets and pillows is the same as him, something you secretly enjoy without even knowing. You catch a glimpse of the reflection of him sitting in the front through the back windows, at how he takes his hat off revealing a dark shade of onyx spiky hair.

For the next half an hour, or maybe less, you both become silent. The only sounds are the huge slaps of snow falling from the sky against the van and the subtle whistle of the wind filtering through the doors.

It is cold, but it’s probably colder in the front as Law is only using his Germa 66 blanket to cover up…

“Law? Are you awake?” you ask, shyly.

“Mh? Yes... why?” he asks back, with not much emotion but a soft tremble on his voice. He is probably cold, very cold.

“I feel bad for you; you must be freezing. There is plenty of room back here, you could sleep here. It’s ok with me” you say, taking advantage of not being in front of him.

Law takes a few minutes to move, but he ultimately does. He hops to where you are and sits there crossing his long legs. He is not wearing his black leather boots, so you can see Sora’s socks.

“Cool socks” you say, sitting right in front of him watching his cheeks go blushed. “Here, cover up. You are freezing, doc”

Both of you cover up with heavy blankets and fall into the mattress at the same time, facing each other.

Maybe, it is too strong to deny it. The attraction is natural, and you both can’t stop it… Exactly like the wind and cold reaching your skins.

“I am still cold” you mumble.

“I read in one of my books that the best way to keep the warmth of our bodies is to share it… skin to skin” he whispers, unable to take his eyes away from your lips.

“Is that so?” you breathe, coming closer to his embrace, allowing his arms to surround your frame and your hips to join with the other’s.

His forehead slowly touches yours, the bridge of your noses do as well. Your fingers, playfully but slowly, crawl to the crook of his neck. While his, squeeze your waist with delicate dominance. A leg that snake into the other’s, crossing, tangling…

Lips coming closer, so close. Breaths warming up, going faster and bumpy. Hearts that indeed had been stolen, the first kiss of two strangers, meeting for the very first time like two snowflakes join while falling from an endless sky

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWill they continue their journey together? 🦢

168 notes · View notes

cloverdaisies · 5 months

Text

# THE LOVE POTION

eric sohn x gn!reader/ collab! 007 files w/ @winterchimez

— “you must locate, befriend & kill agent sohn.”

description: the infamous english spy eric sohn! travels into europe searching for an encryption that serves as a communication link for the secret service rival spectre.. it’s sohn’s mission to retrieve the device and return it to safe hands.. however upon arrival his ultimate distraction is you, can you craft the perfect potion that will make 007 fall in love?

genre & warnings: from russia with love! 007 au! 60s au! love triangle! betrayal & romance! mentions of blood! violence! mentions of death/ killing! but no actual character deaths! cursing! alcohol consumption! mentions weapons! kissing & other mildly suggestive themes! pls lmk if i’ve missed anything!

word count: 6k+

a/n: dt: @sohnric happy belated birthday bar 🤍 wellll … what can i say???? this is overdue !! do excuse my hiatus & messy schedule.. i would like to say a massive thank to @winterchimez for inviting me to collab with you for this event !! it REALLY pushed me out of my comfort zone & throughly enjoyed perfecting this plot as much as i could as a big challenge.. sorry for being so late … 🤍 please do go check out the others work for this event which you can find here and enjoy!

Devilishly you smiled to yourself in the mirror as you pulled on your white satin gloves and fastened a thin pearl necklace around your neck.

“Tea?” Your advisor of sorts, Sangyeon, suggested, gesturing a hand towards the teapot with a smile of generosity. “You’ve got a long week ahead, is it not better to relax now y/n?”

Sangyeon was a taller man, with darkish hair and buttery highlights that glimmered with sufficient light source. He wore a long black blazer with tailored trousers and a fitted white shirt to polish him perfectly. He’d been assigned to look over matters concerning your work, making sure you weren’t up to anything suspicious and meet your personal needs when required. Despite him being so helpful, there was something that irked you about his unwavering presence and constant eye over your activity.

Turning your neck ever so slightly, you grimaced letting out a small huff thinking of the mission you’d been proposed a little over the week ago by the organisation higher-ups.

“I suppose so. I mean…” You cleared your throat before chuckling quietly. “It’s going to be hard to fool one of the the top english spies, is it not? I’ve heard he’s a bit of a charmer. I can’t quite understand why I’ve been hired.”

“Quite so. He’s always got company you could say.” Sangyeon laughed in return, pouring the steaming hot tea from the pot with a gentle hand. “That being said, despite his charm you need to be incredibly careful not to reveal anything and stay on your guard at all times.”

“I always am. No man charms me. Id do anything for the mother country.” You reached out to grab the china teacup off it’s saucer and took it to your lips to sip.

“I definitely charm you, don’t I?” He retorted with a sly wink and a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

“Oh you wish.” You scoffed, placing the cup back down and shuddering at the comment before returning to the mirror to fix your appearance. “Besides, I have a dinner party at 8pm and I don’t need your loitering to be dampening my mood. Thank you for the pastries though, you should consider opening a bakery.”

“I’m glad you liked them. I’ll be back to escort you to your car then.” Sangyeon sighed, leaving the hotel suite with a soft close of the door.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

In England, the sound of a melancholy low trumpet hummed over scene from a street player outside, fading into the open window of a grand office. It was almost sunset, the sky tinting a pale shade of orange amongst dark clouds.

“It’s been 2 days since the killing of that agent they masked as you and you’ve got 3 hours until that flight to Istanbul! Do you understand the consequences if you don’t retrieve that lektor Sohn? That cipher machine connects their entire military intelligence and you’re walking around with a blinking target on your head! ” M recited to Sohn, between his fingers a thick cigar emitting a cloud of heavy smoke.

M, the head of the British Secret service, was addressing what was the assassination attempt of Sohn at a British military facility earlier that week. Sohn had been giving a mission to retrieve a soviet device called the lektor, a cipher machine developed to connect communications.

“I’m very aware, I’ll play my cards right when I get there.” Sohn replied, his lips twisting into a sly smirk as he was being lectured by the higher up.

“Very well.” M sighed rising from his chair, leaving his cigar to rest in a glass dish before retrieving a brief case from the side of his desk. “In that case, there’s 20 rounds of ammunition, flat throwing knives and a 0.25 caliber, rifle that folds it has infrared sight. Use this when you need it and don’t let it out your sight.”

“Thank you very much.” His fingers wrapped around his crystal glass of whiskey, Eric took a sip before inspecting the case with a smug smile. “I best be off.”

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

As the evening settled in Istanbul, the dinner party had began not being invited to sit at the table yourself, you felt quite disappointed your importance in the operation had been significantly swept aside. Upon arrival you quickly recognized a ruddy faced man with a well kept moustache, his hair turning a dark grey with age and was smartly dressed in the cream suit that had been described to you by Sangyeon.

“Hello, I give my deepest apologies for interrupting your conversation. However, I must speak to you in private sir.” You gently tapped on the man’s shoulder, watching him jovially turn with attention.

“Very well, may I ask your name? What can I do for you?” The man answered almost like a store keeper with polite customer service, as if a mask of required kindness had been veiled over his face.

“I’m Y/N, L/N, former agent associated with spectre. I have quite the infatuation with Eric Sohn, I heard he was travelling to the country this evening and I was hoping I could help assist his duties.” You replied opening your eyes like an innocent fawn in attempts to convince your ‘pure’ intentions.

“What’s your interest with Mr. Sohn? How am I meant to trust your being genuine, Y/N, is it?” The head of the British Secret Service in Istanbul spoke softly to you as you chewed at your inner lips nervously. Politely observing your attire, his lips twisting into a curious smile.

Sticking to the script, you began. “I’d be willing to betray this country, for the man has me quite swooned. Therefore, if you would be ever so kind to introduce me to Eric Sohn himself, I’d be ever so grateful. It could get me killed if you tell any other soul.” You spoke eloquently, your demeanour slightly mischievous as you attempted to charm the gentleman.

“If that’s so. I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you.” He returned a smile , turning away from you likely to confront Eric about the matters. Your grin almost resembled that of the cheshire cat, deviously imagining the plans success.

“Aren’t you quite the actor?” The voice of Sangyeon behind you caused you to jolt in fear, in case it was one of the agents unaware of the mission assigned to you.

“You just scared the living day lights out of me, can you not just go jumping out of the shadows at me like that?” You brought your hand out to your chest and let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s what I’m trained to do sweetheart.” He chuckled, patting your head like a lost puppy before pacing himself around to the other side of you.

“Seems your plans going smoothly, you have someone approaching you, west.” He quickly pointed over to where Eric Sohn was with gentleman you spoke to earlier.

It came as no surprise to you that the man was incredibly handsome, his smile as he spoke to the other was just magical it served as almost a charm and worked on people like a spell. It was a smile that evoked emotions inexplicable, love, desire, a false sense of comfort that could easily be used as a weapon for betrayal. It was no wonder he was the most sought after member of the secret service in his country, his looks alone could turn his every target into his puppet. He was smartly dressed like described in a classic black tuxedo, a briefcase slotted into his right hand, his hair an enchanting shade of platinum blonde that emphasised his defined bone structure, a jawline so dangerous it could tear paper.

Almost choking on your previous words that no man could charm you, you gulped slightly, clearing your throat and fixing your posture as he approached.

“Allow me to introduce you to Y/N L/N who I’d briefly mentioned earlier.” The gentleman in the cream attire held out his hand to greet you, gently shaking it with a two hands.

“Hello y/n, I’m Eric Sohn. Its delightful to meet such a gem amongst all these people.” He leaned to great you with a polite kiss on the cheek, gently shaking your hand. Every feeling of morality in your body shuddered, nervously feeling the limbs in your body grow weak almost as if you were one flirtatious comment away from fainting.

“It’s such a divine pleasure to meet you too, I’ve been dying to finally get the chance to meet you in person. I’m such an admirer of you work.” You quickly gathered yourself together and carefully spoke with a soft velvety voice.

“Shall we go for a walk in the gardens?” Eric suggested, his eyebrow raising curiously as he also observed your attire and features.

“I’d be more than glad.” You responded as he held his arm out towards you to link, gently taking your arm and walking you out the grand marble doors.

The night was darker than usual, with a dull moon and stars that twinkled pathetically amongst thick clouds. However the bright lights that had been messily strung across the hedges lit up the the scene warmly. The sound of the blue piano being played from the inside faintly bled out into the garden along with indistinguishable chatter from guests up in the main hall.

“I must ask y/n, what gave you interest in the British Secret Service in the first place?” He began as you walked the side of the grounds arm in arm.

“Well… I felt as if my position in the country wasn’t appreciated enough. I don’t agree with their morale or treatment regarding myself.” You replied gracefully, glancing over to the tidy man. His presence radiated that of a tough masculine self assured nature. He looked at you with suspicion, allowing his guard to remain up like a fence.

“Well it’s in my best interest to not trust your intentions immediately, but I believe the information that resides with you is incredibly valuable to me and my mission.” He took a moment to take a breath before a cocky smirk crawled on to his lips. “Therefore, to test this loyalty of yours. I have to request a map, one of the military base that holds the lektor I’m after. Provide this and you earn my trust, sweetheart.”

You gulped for a moment, you had specifically been told not to leak any intelligence or assist him in anyway. You couldn’t foil his plans by providing a false map either, your hands were tied and even he knew that. Him and his manipulation tactics. He knew sly ways around people, you providing this map would mean surrendering all your loyalty to the secret service and despite having feelings inexplicable for the man beside you, you couldn’t give up what meant most to you. You had to figure out a plan.

“When do you want me to provide this to you?” You attempted the mask the fear that lingered in your throat, strangling your words with thick ropes that made you sound as if you’d seen several ghosts appear before you.

“Tonight, slip it behind the fourth pillar beside the stairs by 10 and I’ll soon be there to pick it up." He smiled, there was something sinister about his words as if he knew that it would be almost impossible for you to hatch a plan within that time.

“Very well, it will be there.” You took a breath momentarily, his warm touch departing you as he proceeded back into the large building. He turned back to you a last time, giving you a sly wink before going upstairs with a bright smile on his lips.

“Are you out of your damn mind? You are aware he’s drawing you right in his trap?” Sangyeon appeared from behind one of the pillars outside, having followed you around the entire time. “He’s not an idiot, he’s trapping you, you providing that map will lead him straight to his plan.”

“Then you best tell them to prepare.” You rolled your eyes, watching his serious dark eyes stare into your conscience. “If I don’t give him this, we lose all trust. He’s not an idiot but perhaps you are, now leave me be.”

You breezed past him, making sure to shoulder check him before making your way back into the hall with a bitter smile on your face. Going into the bathrooms on the left side of the building, you took a pen from your bag and began to map out a rough sketch of the secured military base housing the lektor Sohn was after. Folding it between your fingers, you left the bathroom, discreetly dropping it by the pillar he’d asked you too.

You grabbed a glass of prosecco from one of the many waiters dotted around the function room and joined Sangyeon’s friendly conversation with other associates. Nervously, your attention wavered from the bubbles appearing at the top of the champagne flute, to over your shoulder where Sohn was now making his way behind the pillar.

He walked around it as if he was daydreaming, picking the sheet of paper up and sliding it into his pocket. He gave you a brief smile before proceeding back to his gaggle of officials who’d be overseeing his work in the country.

“I think it’s home time for us.” Sangyeon closed the conversation with a sigh, placing a firm but soft hand on your shoulder. You smiled at the group of men in front of you, before slipping past them arm linked with Sangyeon.

“The officials aren’t pleased with you.” Sangyeon muttered through pursed lips. “However, they understand that you sincerely had no other choice."

"And? Are they preparing?" You replied raising one eyebrow cockily.

"They can't assign enough men to cover the base tomorrow. However if Sohn gets his hands on the device, which is unlikely, they're use as much forces as they can to retrieve it back." Sangyeon sighed at the seemingly idiotic plan, his rough palm wiping the illusion of sweat from his forehead and loosening his slim black tie as you elegantly slipped into the parked Mercedes.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

The quiet hums of soft jazz fell across the café like a warm blanket, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and a plethora of pastries baked earlier that morning danced through the air as if it were a spritz of expensive perfume. Outside, rain fell like hail, beating the ground like drumbeats and forming puddles that resembled ponds or even lakes.

Upon first encounter it would seem that you had your nose stuck into an edition of wuthering heights your eyes flickering over the nonsensical words, so often turning a page with a dramatic sigh. However, the act of appearing busy wore you out like no other, your fingers rested on the right side of your face with impatient taps.

“Well… What a surprise to see you here!” An almost sarcastic voice sounded as the bell chimed over the café alerting you from the words on the page.

Your eyes snapped to Eric Sohn, neatly dressed as usual in a tuxedo with pin stripes, the outfit missing the blazer but tied together with a waistcoat. If you hadn’t been so stressed about the date, you would have fainted over his rolled up dress shirt that exposed his toned forearms. You would have been a mess, but that’s not the point at hand.

“Well yes, I do enjoy a morning read, you could say.” You smiled, almost grimacing at the script-like conversation. Finding yourself almost upset you had to talk to him that way, wishing you could genuinely talk to the man on a level that wasn’t inevitably leading to the utter destruction of betrayal.

“You seem like you’re away with the fairies this morning, what’s on your mind?” He sat beside you for a moment, his elbows rested on the table behind him. His face was just above your head, eyes looming over you suspiciously.

“I’m just worried.” You replied simply, packing your things into your bag with a short huff. Awaiting you both was Sohn’s plan to breach the military base that very afternoon.

“How so?” He chuckled almost, smile lines breaking out in his cheeks, his grin lighting up his every feature, helping you to climb down from the stool you’d sat on.

“Well, what happens if this doesn’t go to plan?” You looked him in his deep brown eyes that glistened so prettily under the warm lighting, his smile dampening quickly.

“In my way or yours?” He smirked cockily, turning from you to leave the café, briefly turning to check you were following. However, you stood frozen still, what does that mean? Your plan hadn’t worked? Your blood ran cold, he’d truly had you wrapped around his finger, he knew.

“Sorry? I’m not sure what you mean by that.” You laughed the situation off, watching as his pitiful smile broke again, an almost pathetic laugh escaping his lips.

“Don’t play dumb.” He rolled his eyes momentarily, grinning with a hint of mischief to his words. “You and I clearly have our differences. I don’t fall for this entire act you’ve got going on, sugar.”

You felt sweat forming in the palms of your hands, your lips begin to quiver slightly, whilst your tongue felt like it had been duct taped to the roof of your mouth. With a clenched jaw you chose silence, watching him smirk as you stared into the pitiful void in his eyes. His hand ran through the platinum blonde strands of his hair as he sighed, unable to contain his chuckles as he watched you drown in your own psychological mess.

“Instead of being confused, I think it would be more worth while considering siding with me. Why don’t we get you out of this mess of a life you live? You’re ordered around like dog and it’s not fit for a diamond like you.” He sighed pacing around you like a lion playing with its food. “I’ve taken a liking to your dedication, I can see you’re so badly trying to stay loyal to your work but there’s something else you can’t resist.”

You shuddered as his lips hovered over your ears, whispering words of temptation in the most insatiable manner. Your body still frozen in time had not moved an inch from the table you’d been sat at. Warmth rising to your features whilst your stomach rattled around like a brittle old machine in the dry cleaners.

“You know this too. I’m not trying to manipulate you as I have nothing else to gain from your companionship. However, I’m quite fond of you y/n. I think your intelligence is to be treated better.” He shrugged his eyes glistening in a way that presented his words as something genuine, something honest. His praise lit up fireworks in your system, you were on rich compliment away from detonating completely.

“I appreciate your words Mr. Sohn.” You began, clearing your throat gently before continuing. “However, I think you and I are destined to be opposed. I wish you well.”

You fiercely clutched your bag in the warmth of your hand, swiftly rushing to exit the sheer embarrassment of the situation. The once soft sound of harmonic trumpets now sounded like the chaotic thrill of elephants stampeding through the small confinements of the café. It was in no way complimented by the grating sound of a piano keys being smashed in a way that was neither melodic or enjoyable to listen to. Yet before you could grasp the golden handle of the door, you were beckoned back by the honey sweet sound of your name amongst the frightful waves.

“Y/n?” Eric who turned to face you a final time, smiled, not a classic smirk or sinister chuckle, a small smile that made his eyes resemble those of a harmless puppy. “Contact me, if you change your mind.”

You looked back with a blank expression, observing his relaxed demeanour with bitterness lingering heavy on your mind. A bitterness, a feeling of resentment, but what you would do to run away with him if you could. You’d be killed.

The sound of the café bell chime felt almost like the sound of a distant gunshot to Eric, at heart he knew he’d never be able to swoon you in the way he’d hoped. There was a small rose seed sewn into his heart especially for you, he himself resented the way you as intelligent as you were, could be used as shark bait and treated like no more than a sniffer dog. Unusual for him to grow such a soft spot considering you were the enemy in the equation. He sighed, clutching the briefcase he’d been gifted and headed out to do what he came here for in the first place.

The military base was fairly small, observing the blueprints you’d traced for him, his plan was fairly simple. The box-like building was connected to an underground train link, there was no service running for another half an hour, which gave him that much time to secure the lektor and catch the next train inbound.

A small ladder led up to a hatch secured in the bottom of the facility, gently he used his fingers to open it almost silently. Stupidly, the officials thought Sohn would blatantly try to enter the building through the main entrance, a line of armed men waiting behind the doors.

The operations room was a littered with different documents, weapons, machinery, cupboards the only option for Sohn was to scramble through every shelf hoping to find the device wherever it’d been temporarily hidden. Underneath a satin sheet, there was a black box that somehow resembled the demonstration he’d been shown of the device. However, as he opened the box an explosion of smoke popped causing his ears to ring as the distant sound of yelling was heard from the unmanned room. This couldn’t stop Eric, he calmly continued to rake through the drawers as the voices grew louder.

In the bottom drawer, was the box he was looking for, checking once to see that it was not another trap and the actual device. As he pulled it from its case, the sounds of shots hitting the wall behind him caused him to pull a small pistol from his blazer pocket. Shooting back at the guards, neither of them being able to see clearly through the smoke from the trap. Eric crawled to the hatch, lektor huddled close to his chest.

The honking of the steam engine down the tunnel relieved him as he fired up the hatch to warn the soldiers not to come down. With his back against the wall, the train narrowly passed by him with little space to leave. He elbowed one of the windows as it slowed on the tracks, hurling himself onboard one of the carriages. He quickly switched suits, and sealed the device in his briefcase as protocol before exiting the broken room on the carriage and proceeding to another.

A sigh of relief slipped his lips as he sat down with his briefcase beside him, he even decided to purchase a cup of tea for the journey and peacefully kicked his legs up to read a newspaper. At least for the first ten minutes, the sound of his cabin door sliding open alerted him to look up casually from the words on the page. He couldn’t quite explain who the man who stood at the door was, he was familiar but not a man he knew at least. He was dressed a long black tux with brownish hair, his eyes replicated those of fury, aggression, enough to alert Sohn at least.

“Hand it over.” Pulling a gun from the waistband of his tailored black trousers, his face remained blank as Sohn raised his hands in the air with a laugh.

“That’s not very friendly.” Eric tutted, standing up from his seat with the case laying on the seat behind him. As he observed him more carefully the identity of the man began to become less pixelated, funnily enough it’s as if everywhere Sohn went he saw a face like resembling the man in the crowd. “I’m not a fan of stalkers but I’m sure we could settle this with an autograph.”

The joke seemed to land terribly with the other male, his lips curling in disgust as he readjusted his finger over the trigger of the gun in his hand.

“Get over yourself.” The man sneered before looking Sohn directly in the eye with a cold stare. “Your plan is hardly turning out successful, poor y/n came crying to me about your twisted bullshit.”

“Ah yes, now I remember!” Sohn clasped his hands together beginning to pace the small room, the man’s gun latching target to his head. “You’re y/n’s little lap dog! That makes so much more sense, unrequited love, that must be hard for you buddy.”

Sohn’s words cut through him like a knife, the anger boiling through his veins as he struggled to keep his composure. The gun wavering only slightly as his lips pursed furiously.

“I’m more than that buddy.” The unnamed man laughed in a way that attempted to conceal his emotions but instead the line came out as no more than a high pitch croak. “Now hand it over before I turn your brain into several servings of spaghetti.”

“Sangyeon!” The sound of angry footsteps stomping through the corridor alerted the man, however he didn’t take his eyes off Sohn for a second.

“Listen, Sangyeon is it?” Sohn laughed, his voice sounding assertive despite the noise of the rattling train and noisy horns. “I think you better calm down, she won’t be happy with what you’re trying to do here.”

Sangyeon’s gun lowered, just to the point where it was out of sight of the narrow train passage but still somewhat aiming at Sohn.

“What is it?” He called, the relief of Sohn’s face when he saw yours outside of the window was golden. It would have been so tedious attempting to get out of the situation himself.

“I’ve been looking for you all bloody day! Now I found out you’re trying to leave the country? What are-”Your eyes originally blinking in red fury softened into bright pearls upon meeting Eric’s. Then all of a sudden they turned red again as you looked back to Sangyeon with increased suspicion. “Step away from the door.”

Surprisingly he did just that, revealing the gun that was pointed towards Sohn just out the hallway. Eric discreetly took the opportunity to assemble the weapon given to him as Sangyeon’s eyes focused on yours.

“There is no way, I’m letting you kill a man that’s not business to take care of.” You sighed, blocking the doorway and staring into the soulless void of eyes. “Leave here immediately. You’re only gonna end up hurt.”

“Y/N? Are you out of damn mind?” Sangyeon burst out into maniacal laughter almost resembling one of those villains from a popular comic book at the time. “I’ve spent years protecting you and you repay me by - I don’t know - falling in love with the enemy?”

“I am not in love with Mr. Sohn-” You refuted, the lies slipped from your tongue as denial spun its web around the pink mush of your brain. You couldn’t coherently finish the sentence without entering a spiral.

“Really?” Sangyeon eyes flickered with false confusion, his lips breaking out into a scary grin. “Then tell me why I can’t kill him?” He left a pause for you to fill in the space, but as your eyes darted around the room you realised that he was perhaps right. You couldn’t admit that but there was no reason to let Sohn get away with the device needed to connect the entire unions military operations. It was simply ridiculous.

“Thought so.” Sangyeon sighed. “It’s a shame you’d leave me with such a broken heart.” There was a glint of genuine pain in his eyes, underneath the tough exterior. He was always good at concealing his emotions, rarely showing them and acting as enthusiastic as a piece of cardboard most days.

“Leave.” You looked him in the eyes more seriously than you ever had before, you were of course furious with Sangyeon. However, you couldn’t watch him get hurt or at least die trying to defend a union that didn’t even value his work.

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t. You’re going to get us into a situation you don’t know consequences of.” Sangyeon spat his words firm, eyes bulging out of their sockets as if they were signalling your final warning. “I’d do anything to protect you y/n. Now let me.”

With that he pulled your arm out of the way of the door, only to reveal an Eric Sohn that was more than ready to pounce. Sohn tackled Sangyeon, wounding his arm but managing to throw his gun down the other end of the carriage. Sangyeon panicked, attempting to reach for Sohn before he could take your arm. He yelled out for you, the change in his voice causing you to whip your head around as Eric’s sprinting stopped.

“Y/N!! WAIT!” The agonising shriek ran cold through your bones, you gasped turning to the man as he rose from the ground. “Don’t leave. I serve no purpose without you.”

“I love you.”

The scene looked like a shakespearean tragedy, the two men on either side of the carriage looking at you expectantly. Sangyeon the tragic hero, the final villain to be defeated clinging to a last thread of hope that you’d take his hand and run away with him instead. Then on the other hand Sohn, a dream-like protagonist that had fallen in love with an enemy in battle, waiting to ride his horse into into the sunset. Your mind ran codes like a computer, processing your deepest desires battling the virus of conflict that had been hard-wired into your system.

“I can’t, but we will meet again Sangyeon.” You sighed, your love for Sangyeon was purely platonic, forced out of a system that took you for granted and fed you to the sharks. “Leave this line of work as soon as you can, you don’t deserve to be hurt this way. But I have to go.”

Tears welled at Sangyeon’s eyes for the first time in perhaps over a decade, he knew you were right, in fact he didn’t want you to be in danger anymore. Mature, as he always was, he knew your decision was ultimately the right answer. His love for you, was far greater than his selfish desires, but succumbing to your own was the best thing you could do. The only thing he necessarily cared about over his broken heart, was Sohn’s ability to keep you safe - he knew he would. As he clenched his fists watching you and Sohn run into the hills together he smiled, a chuckle leaving his lips, glad you had your happy ending.

“Where is he?” Asked a gaggle of soldiers boarding the train, their rifles over their chests as they marched down the carriage.

“I lost him.” Sangyeon replied, his lies convincing enough to deter the soldiers away from the area, as he weakly stepped off at the last stop of the train. It was a beautiful day outside, a beautiful place to announce his new beginning. He sighed, as he viewed the coast line from the train stop, maybe opening a bakery isn’t a bad idea after all.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

“You ever visited here before?” Sohn asked, leaning across the canoe as he rowed down the streets, the sunshine lighting up his golden skin.

“Well, I’ve never left the country.” You chuckled, causing his face to light up in amusement as you admired the waters surrounding the city of Venice.

“I thought I’d ask, I’m glad I’m able to provide such a romantic spot for such a beauty like you.” He winked mischievously, laughing as you cringed at his advanced his eyes scrunching into crescent moons.

“Do I have to be worried about all this flirting Mr.Sohn? I’m not falling for any tricks.” Your eyes squinted at him suspiciously, propping your head in the palm of your hand as you leaned across the canoe.

“Well, if this is anything to settle your worries. I’m in a bit of trouble with M for accepting your side quest. He said to me a few years ago that if I let romance get in the way of my missions ever again, I’ll either get myself killed by it or even M himself.” He laughed thinking back to conversation. His eyes that sought out reminiscence in the distance then flickered to meet yours. “When I first met you, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep that promise.”

Melting into his words, you laughed as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks and the irresistible warmth of true love blossom in the pit of your stomach. As your eyes lingered on each others, you observed the beautiful nature of Sohn himself. He was etched in the model of a greek god, you finally validated yourself for falling into his trap, perhaps the love potion you were casting accidentally splashed yourself. For a few moments, Sohn hesitated, leaning closer to you for a moment as you froze. Your brain almost completely malfunctioned as he smiled, lifting your chin with the palm of his hand. Finally pressing your lips to his you smiled to yourself, as the sun began to set in Venice, the once blue sky-line was painted like a canvas with the most vibrant shades oranges and pinks.

Despite your mission abhorrently failing, the feeling of true love and freedom was the most successful ending your desolate heart could have asked for.

Besides, the love potion seemed to be successful.. Eric certainly seemed smitten as your words fell on his ears like sugar, as you talked the past and other interesting things about yourself. Venice seemed like the perfect place to forget your lives, forget how you met and fall in love all over again.

fin. — “you will locate, befriend and fall in love with agent Sohn.”

90 notes · View notes

vintageshanny · 1 year

Text

Play Something For Me - Part 5 - Meet Me in St. Louis

It’s the return of Elvis and Ruby! I hope you all enjoy! Thank you to everyone who’s liked, shared, and commented on my writing. It is so encouraging and means so much to me. ❤️

Writing Prompt: Elvis in a car

Content: Fluff, smut, 1973 Elvis, 18+

October 31, 1973

Ruby let her thoughts wander as she absentmindedly strolled down the sidewalk with her shopping bags. She had walked to the store to pick up some candy for the trick-or-treaters that would be flooding the neighborhood later. Ella would be home from school soon and would need help putting the finishing touches on her costume. As usual when she was alone, she found her mind drifting to Elvis. To her knowledge, he had not tried to contact her in the almost two months since they had admitted their love for each other in Las Vegas. She had seen the news stories about his rant against the Hilton on closing night, rumors of a falling out with his manager, and his divorce being finalized at last. She knew he must be going through a lot of turmoil, and at first she had tried to convince herself that was the reason for his silence, but it was probably time to face the music - she had just been a convenient distraction for him, and now he was back to a life that had no room for a single mother in St. Louis. As if the weather sensed her melancholy mood, raindrops started to pour down with no warning. “Dammit,” she muttered to herself, looking up at the sky as if that would stop them somehow.

“Be careful baby, sugar melts in the rain,” an unmistakable deep voice called out. Ruby glanced over with surprise, just now noticing the fancy black car that had pulled over to the side of the road. She saw Elvis’ handsome face gleaming at her from the back window. Her jaw fell open a little bit as she took a step closer. “How did you know I have candy?” she asked, unsure of what else to say, looking down at the brown paper bags that were starting to get soggy. “Now honey, ya know I was talkin’ ‘bout you,” Elvis chuckled. “Now get in here ‘fore ya float away with your candy.” The rain soaking through her clothes assured her that this was the only sensible decision.

“Aw, honey, you’re soakin’ wet, you’re gonna catch cold,” Elvis murmured as he pulled Ruby in close and planted a big kiss on her lips, which were still hanging open slightly in shock. “How are you, I mean, what are you, um, why are you here?” she blurted out awkwardly. She could see his lopsided smile drop a little bit at her less-than-welcoming reception. “I mean, I haven’t heard from you, I just thought you didn’t want…” she trailed off, trying to backtrack on her initial hostility. “I do want, honey,” Elvis said, looking a bit dejected. “I’ve had a lot goin’ on, and I tried ta call ya a couple times, but ya ain’t got no answerin’ service.” “Oh,” Ruby said, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you called.” She did most of her seamstress work from home, but she supposed he could have called when she was out running errands. Or, knowing his schedule, maybe when she was sleeping. “I just figured you didn’t want to see me again.” Elvis looked up sharply. “I drove all the way here, baby,” he said. “Of course I wanted ta see ya.” Charlie cleared his throat softly from the driver’s seat. “I guess Charlie wants credit for drivin’ me here,” Elvis said with a hollow chuckle.

Ruby swallowed and looked down at her hands. “Elvis, I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. “Ya are?” he asked, tilting her chin up toward him. “Of course,” Ruby admitted. “I was just feeling worried. I have all these feelings for you, and then I didn’t hear from you, or I thought I didn’t hear from you, and I’m scared.” She could feel herself beginning to tear up. “Oh, Ruby, you ain’t gotta be scared of me. I told ya I had a lot goin’ on, but I’m here now. Ya know I wanna be with ya. There’s a reason we’re back in each other’s lives, and I ain’t throwin’ that away. Understand, baby?” Elvis gazed at her, waiting for an answer. Ruby nodded and let him wrap her hand in his own. “Ya sure are a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his smile reappearing now. “Really? I probably look like a drowned rat,” Ruby laughed. Elvis’ eyes lowered to her chest and his grin grew bigger. “Naw, baby, ya look really good like this. Jus’ make sure no one else lays an eye on ya.” Ruby followed his gaze down and gasped a little bit when she saw how her sopping wet blouse had molded itself to every contour of her breasts, her nipples prominently poking through the fabric. She could feel her face flushing bright red as Elvis chuckled and pulled her in close to him. “Mmm my red Ruby, you’re actin’ like I ain’t seen ya naked before,” he whispered in her ear, sending a little shiver down her spine. “Elvis!” she whispered shyly, her eyes darting toward the front seat. “Charlie ain’t listenin’ to us, are ya, Charlie?” Elvis called out. “No, boss,” came the reply from the front. “Jus’ drive us to Miss Ruby’s house,” Elvis instructed and leaned back toward her. His hand gently caressed her chest as she succumbed to the pleasure of his soft lips pressing against hers.

Ruby felt like she could go on kissing Elvis for hours, but they pulled up in front of her house in just a few minutes. Elvis looked out the window and surveyed the sky. “I guess we should get inside while the rain’s let up.” Ruby noticed the downpour had disappeared as quickly as it had come. It was as if it occurred at the perfect time for Elvis to rescue her and woo her back into his arms without a second thought. Maybe this is all happening for a reason, she mused. “Uh, what should I do, boss? Wait here, or…” Charlie trailed off uncertainly. “Nah, go to the hotel. I’ll call ya if I need ya,” Elvis responded, grabbing a small suitcase and opening the door. He hurried around to help Ruby get out with her wet grocery bags. Ruby glanced around nervously, hoping none of the neighbors were watching. Elvis wasn’t exactly incognito in a silver jacket with rainbow flames licking the shoulders. She smiled as she looked him up and down. He seemed to have gained a little weight since she’d seen him, but she didn’t mind at all. It actually made her flush as she thought about laying underneath him, his body pressed into hers. Elvis looked over and smirked as they climbed the steps to the porch. “You’re gonna make me blush, baby, the way you’re undressin’ me with your eyes like that.” “I’m sorry,” Ruby murmured. “I just don’t know how you get more handsome every time I see you.” She loved the way her compliments always seemed to both embarrass and please him.

Ruby set the bags of candy on the kitchen counter and turned to see Elvis surveying the living room, looking at the framed photos of her and Ella. “Where’s your girl now?” he asked. “She should be home from school any minute, actually,” Ruby commented. “If you’d rather go, I understand,” she said, looking away nervously. Elvis turned to look at her in surprise. “Oh, do ya not want me to meet her?” He looked a little hurt again. “No, no, you can meet her, I just didn’t know if you’d feel comfortable, or-” she stammered out before Elvis cut her off. “Ruby, I love ya. I want to be in your life, but that means ya have to let me in,” he said as he walked closer and took her hands in his, looking directly into her eyes. She could feel them watering as she nodded and said, “Okay. I’ll let you in.” Elvis smiled with relief and held her close to him. “And Elvis?” she added. “Yes, baby?” “I love you too. I’m so glad you came.” She could feel his embrace around her tighten. “Baby, you should get outta these wet clothes,” he murmured into her hair. “Are you just trying to see me naked again?” she teased. “Nah, there’ll be plenty of time for that later,” he laughed. “I can’t get all excited when we won’t have the time for me to take care of ya properly.” Ruby smiled at this and leaned up to kiss his lips before going into her bedroom to change.

She returned to the living room to find that Elvis had made himself at home on the couch with some peanut butter cups from one of the grocery bags. “Elvis!” she swatted at him playfully, “Those are for the trick-or-treaters!” Elvis looked up at her with a big grin and whistled lowly. “You look beautiful baby, even if I can’t see those pretty nipples anymore.” He laughed as Ruby’s face turned scarlet. “Aw, red Ruby, your face matches your dress now,” he continued to tease as he pulled her onto his lap. She smoothed out her red dress with rainbow stitching at the waistline. She was too embarrassed to say that she had picked it out so they would match a little bit with their rainbow colors. Instead she leaned in and licked the chocolate off Elvis’ lip. “You’re a messy eater,” she teased him. “I can think of something really messy I’d like to eat,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers digging into her waist. “Elvis!” Ruby squealed, shocked but delighted by his naughty innuendo. Just at that moment, the doorknob turned and Ruby jumped up off his lap.

“Mom! I’m home!” Ella called out as she walked in the door. I’m right here sweetie, and we have a guest,” Ruby said nervously. Ella turned as she walked into the living room and her jaw just about hit the floor. “You’re - you’re Elvis Presley,” she announced in awe. Elvis stood up from the couch and reached his hand out. “You must be Ella. I’ve heard so much about ya,” he said with a grin. Ella reached her hand out and shook his, looking like she was in a trance. “Why are you in our house?” she stared over at her mother in confusion. “Oh, I’m jus’ an old friend of your mom’s,” he said, smiling down at how her hand was still shaking his. She dropped his hand then and gasped. “You did meet in Germany, didn’t you?” she asked accusingly. “My mom said she only caught a glimpse of you.” “Well, we may have had a conversation as well,” Ruby said softly, trying to think of how to get herself out of this uncomfortable situation. “Then when she came to my concert in August, we got a chance to talk again.” Elvis smiled over at Ruby, trying to help her explain his presence. “Your concert?” Ella asked in disbelief, looking at Ruby once more. “You went to Las Vegas while I was gone?” Then a look of realization came over her face. “Are you…dating?” she asked. “Are you dating Elvis Presley and you didn’t tell me?” Elvis looked at Ruby questioningly also, realizing that she must not have mentioned a thing about him. Ruby cleared her throat nervously. “It’s, um, kind of a long story, and I think that’s enough questions for right now. I can explain it all later, but you need to finish getting your costume ready for tonight. Trick-or-treat starts in an hour.” She turned and walked into the kitchen before either of them could question her any further.

Ella went into her bedroom to get ready, and Ruby could hear Elvis’ heavy footsteps walk up behind her while she was pouring the bags of candy out into a big bowl. “So…ya didn’t even think to mention me huh?” he asked, sounding a bit disappointed. Ruby turned to find him standing directly behind her, blocking her against the counter. “Elvis, it’s not that I didn’t think to, I mean, I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I’d even see you again. I didn’t want to get…anyone’s hopes up,” she tried to explain. Elvis nodded slowly and sighed. “I understand, baby. But, I should probably tell ya, my hopes are up.” He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. Ruby stared up into his beautiful face, noticing how his long lashes fanned over his cheeks. “I think I didn’t want to admit it to myself,” she said softly, “but so are mine.” Elvis leaned down and pressed his lips gently to hers.

Ella cleared her throat behind them and they nervously jumped apart, looking like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “If you two are done playing kissy-face, can you tell me if my costume looks okay?” Ella asked as Elvis and Ruby tried to suppress their smiles. Ella was wearing a pink dress that Ruby had made and had her hair in braided pigtails with big bows. “I wanted to be Marcia Brady, but mom made me dress as Cindy instead,” Ella announced with some disappointment in her voice. “Probably no one will even know who I am because my hair’s too dark to be Cindy.” “You can dress as a teenager when you are a teenager,” Ruby said. “I’m practically a teenager,” Ella mumbled. “Well, I think ya look mighty cute,” Elvis said with a grin. “Plus ya don’t wanna grow up too fast, people give ya more candy when you’re younger,” he added. Ella considered that and nodded in agreement. “I think you’re onto something there, Mr. Presley,” she said, sounding pleased. “Please jus’ call me Elvis, dear,” he said with a warm smile. “Okay Elvis dear,” Ella said, making all three of them giggle.

The doorbell rang and Ella grabbed her trick-or-treat bag. “My friends are here! I’m going, mom!” she called out as she ran for the door. “Hold on, give me a hug,” Ruby said as she pulled Ella in close. “Be careful and stay together. Don’t forget your overnight bag,” she added. “Don’t worry, we’ll be careful. And I expect the full long story when I come home,” Ella said sternly. She gave Ruby a quick kiss on the cheek, waved goodbye to Elvis, and rushed out the door. “Overnight bag?” Elvis asked. “Oh, yeah, she’s staying over at a friend’s house after trick-or-treating,” Ruby explained. “Hmm, we have the house to ourselves?” Elvis said, his endearing crooked smile coming out in full force, making Ruby’s heart melt and her core tingle. “Well, after we give out the candy,” she said with a wink. As if on cue, the first group of kids rang the doorbell. “You should stay out of sight so you don’t cause a commotion,” Ruby instructed as she went to grab the bowl of candy.

Ruby returned to find that Elvis had already opened the door and was signing autographs for a group of starstruck parents while the kids looked on confused, wondering where the candy was. She thought about scolding him but saw how much he seemed to be enjoying himself and decided to just let him have fun. Elvis continued to pass out candy with Ruby and sign autographs until the last trick-or-treater had come through. They sat next to each other on the couch, Elvis’ arm around Ruby’s shoulders. “I guess we had just enough candy,” Elvis announced, looking at the empty bowl on the coffee table. “Actually,” Ruby said with a sly smile, “I set aside a bag of peanut butter cups for you since you love them so much.” Elvis’ face lit up like a little boy’s. “Aw, that’s sweet of ya honey,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Do you want me to get them?” Ruby asked. “Well, I s-s-sorta had a different treat in mind right now,” he murmured, his hand creeping up under the hem of her dress. Ruby’s heart started racing. “Mmm, I think I could help you with that,” she whispered. She stood up from the couch and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the bedroom with her.

As soon as they got to the bed, Ruby pushed his jacket off his shoulders and pulled his shirt off. “Oh, God, I’ve missed this,” she whispered as she ran her hands lightly over his chest and stomach, feeling the hair tickle her fingertips. She loved the way Elvis always seemed to tremble slightly when they were intimate with each other. It reminded her that he was just a human being who got nervous like anyone else. She smiled as she took in how beautiful he looked. Elvis smiled back shyly as he unbuttoned his pants and let them drop down to the ground, revealing his bare body to her. “‘M sorry, honey, he’s not quite ready yet,” he motioned down to his soft cock hanging below the slight swell of his belly. “No need to be sorry, he probably just needs a little loving,” Ruby said as she pulled her dress over her head and removed her bra and underwear. Elvis stared at her naked body in admiration as she pushed him onto the bed. “Let me take care of him,” she whispered lustily.

Ruby started placing gentle open-mouthed kisses on Elvis’ lower abdomen and thighs, making a circle of wet spots around his cock as she caressed his balls in her hand. A low moan came from his lips and she moved her mouth closer to his shaft, letting her warm breath tease him. His moans grew louder and Ruby watched in awe as he started growing hard before her eyes, the head of his cock peeking out from the foreskin. She leaned in and kissed this most sensitive spot, letting her tongue run over it, and Elvis let out a symphony of moans. “Oh, Ruby, he’s sure ready now,” Elvis called out. Ruby gave him one last lick and then laid next to Elvis as he turned to roll on top of her. He reached down and ran his fingers through her folds, making sure she was wet enough to enter. “Damn, baby, you’re so wet. Is that cuz of me?” he asked with a proud grin. “Of course,” Ruby blushed. “That’s what happens when I get to lick all over your body and hear you moan my name.” “Well, there’s plenty more where that came from, sweet red Ruby,” Elvis whispered as he thrusted into her tight little hole, the full weight of his body pressed against hers. “Oh, Elvis, this is what I’ve been waiting for,” Ruby moaned, the pleasure consuming her immediately. “I know, baby, I know ya needed me to come take care of ya,” Elvis grunted as he continued thrusting deep inside of her. After two months of waiting for this moment, the ecstasy washed over the two of them with an intensity Ruby could barely take. She couldn’t stop from calling out Elvis’ name over and over as her orgasm hit so hard her entire body shook with pleasure. With sweat falling from his forehead, Elvis stuttered up into her with a satisfied groan, filling her up and collapsing down onto her soft body, his head nuzzled against her chest.

“Oh, wow, Elvis, that was amazing,” Ruby whispered rapturously as she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair. “It sure was, sweet red Ruby,” Elvis responded. “Elvis? Y’know how you have that, um, extra layer on your, y’know…” Ruby trailed off, for some reason feeling embarrassed to say the word foreskin. She could feel him tense up slightly as he realized what she was referring to. She quickly blurted out, “Well I love it! When you, um, go inside of me, I can feel it move back and forth a little bit and it feels amazing,” she ended in a whisper, her face turning beet red with this admission. Elvis relaxed and let out a little laugh. “I’m glad you love it, baby, I guess we were made for each other. Cuz he sure loves bein’ in there.” “I think your whole body is just perfect,” Ruby couldn’t stop the compliments as she continued to stroke his hair. He didn’t say anything more, but she could feel him smiling against her chest. He leaned up and gave her nipple a little lick, laughing at how it sent a shiver through her overstimulated body. Ruby blushed and smiled down at him. “Y’know what I could use now, baby?” Elvis asked, looking up into her face, his eyes twinkling. “Some peanut butter cups.” Ruby laughed and kissed his sweet lips.

Tag list: @ellie-24 @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @lookingforrainbows @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @arrolyn1114

#elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #writing prompt game #play something for me #elvis x ruby #i love this man

84 notes · View notes

toyybox · 4 months

Text

Spiderwebs #35: Valentine

Masterlist

content: intimate whumper, carewhumper, some suggestive themes (No explicit content)

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Another day, another hotel. They left in the morning. Heather shook him awake at five o’clock sharp. He packed his things, despite his complaints and fatigue, and he made himself comfortable in the car. The roads blurred together. He tried to look out for signs, the name of a city or even a new state, but found none.

The new hotel was somewhat nicer. They didn’t have a free breakfast, or a minifridge, but they did have a television and a larger fridge, plus a small chandelier in the room—for whatever reason—as well as free soap samples in the bathroom. Rosehip scented. Jackie kept a few in his pocket, then collapsed onto the bed. It was much more comfortable-looking. The fabric was hazel-coloured and smelled like laundry detergent.

Heather’s mood was slightly better, or she had learned to hide her emotions more thoroughly. She did not say anything, only sat on the swivel chair and stared at the painting on the wall. It was a river scene. Probably Venice. Gondolas and lanterns glowing yellow over flat waters, with a stilted house or two in the background. The painting was real, not printed out, and Jackie could even make out the thick, textured strokes of acrylic on its surface.

Jackie sat up. “Do you like this one?”

“Which one?”

“The hotel.”

“It’s fine.” She shifted her gaze to look out the window instead. It wasn’t floor-length, like the last window, but it was long. The sky had darkened somewhat. According to the clock on the wall, it was half-past six.

“Where are we?”

“Bellevue.”

“Oh, I’ve gone to Bellevue before.” This was a lie—Jackie never had the money to travel—but he really needed something to talk about. He didn’t want to look uncultured. Anyway, he knew enough about the city. “They have a botanical garden.”

“I’m not a botanist.”

“Yeah, but we could still go there. Just visit.”

“We could.” But she said nothing else on the matter.

Jackie sighed. “What are we going to do, then?”

“Nothing. Stay here.” She finally turned her head to look at him. “Are you bored?”

“A little.”

“Read a book. Or go to sleep.”

There were two beds. That was an option, but not an appealing one. He didn’t want to sleep. He wasn’t fatigued anymore, just restless.

So he took out his book instead. He stared at the pages. He turned a few pages. He rolled over onto his back, so he could hold up the book and read that way. He rolled back onto his stomach. He sat up. He got off the bed, and read while walking in languid circles. He sat on the sofa. He sat on the floor—also carpet, also dark brown, but thicker. He stood up and leaned against the wall. He sat back down on the bed.

And then he glanced at the clock. Two minutes had passed.

“You get bored very easily,” Heather said.

He put the book down. “I’m not a gentle soul like you.”

“Well, then.” She laced her hands together. “I’m bored too.”

“Can we go to the garden, then?”

“No. It’s too risky.” She unlaced her hands. “What did you do all day, back in the basement? Other than reading and drawing.”

“I went to sleep.”

“Nothing else?”

“Sometimes I would bang my head against the wall?”

“Thanks for the suggestion.” She paused. “I could take up smoking.”

Jackie let out a mock gasp. “Heather!”

“What?” She smiled a little. “I have good lungs.”

“Yeah, but I don’t. I’ll be coughing all the time.”

“Didn’t you buy cigarettes?”

“And look where that got me. What about the T.V.?”

The television stared silently at them both, startled out of its easy background role. It wasn’t a flatscreen, but boxy ones had a wry charm of their own. How odd, that such a sleek hotel should contain such an anachronism. It was big enough to watch from the bed, at least. The remote lay beside it, blocky and black, beside a flyer with all the hotel service numbers.

“That’s a fair point.” She stood up and took the remote. The television flickered on with the push of a button. There were a few channel numbers inlaid yellow-on-blue, plus an option for movies.

“Interesting,” Heather said in a rather flat tone.

“There’s nothing else to do. We might as well, yeah?”

“What? Watch the news?”

Jackie scoffed. “No, silly. Watch a movie. Don’t tell me that biochemists don’t watch movies.”

“I watch movies.” She walked over and shoved the remote into his hands. “Of course I watch movies. I’m not some kind of recluse.”

“Oh, do you? Name one movie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She turned off the lights, then curled up on the bed beside him. “Just hurry up and pick something.”

He clicked through the options. Nothing very interesting. Jackie only liked depressing French films in black-and-white, but hotels didn’t usually offer those. There were a few slasher flicks, though. Perhaps the blood would appeal to Heather.

“How about Saw?” he asked.

“No, it’s unrealistic. You’d die of sepsis before any of the stupid traps.”

“Okay, how about Halloween Three?”

“It’s not even October.”

“Alright, alright, Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”

She made a face at him.

“What? You love chainsaw massacres.”

“Too soon, Jackie.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. What if we watch Psycho?”

She shrugged. “Fine.”

He didn’t care much for horror movies either, but it was better in comparison to everything else. Psycho was a classic, at least. Or so he had heard. As the introduction played, Jackie was still bored, but he was glad the room wasn’t dead quiet anymore.

His gaze wandered away from the movie, towards Heather beside him. In the light of the television, neon and always awake, she looked so different. He followed the motion of her eyelids, the way her eyelashes dipped as she blinked, the light reflecting against them in a waxy line then scattering apart.

He did not deserve anybody’s affection, least of all Heather’s. He was unable to even let go of what was hurting him, unable to rip the arrow from his chest—still, he would do anything for her. He had gouged his own heart out, and he would do it again. That had to mean something. He wasn’t completely useless, was he?

Heather wasn’t actually watching the movie, and neither was he. She stared at the floor, bit at the edge of her lip, and he stared at her. He was happy, but something caught in his chest and welled up in his throat. He got the strange urge to lean against her. Press up against her shoulder. Put his head there, breathe in and out, let everything else fade away…

Well, this was all foreign to him. He didn't know what to say, how to act. He knew how to behave and talk politely, but there was no skill in that. Nobody had ever wanted him like this before.

Heather was different. She kept him around. She wanted him to stay.

That’s because she kidnapped you, idiot.

Yes. Maybe it was delusion. Maybe it was pareidolia, to see patterns where there were none. But he could pretend. They could smooth that uneven detail over. They could forgive and forget and let live, just leave it be and let it go. And to be wanted was to be wanted; the legality of it was irrelevant.

He wasn’t sure what to do now. He couldn’t ask her outright. No, he had lost enough dignity already. He moved a little closer to her on the bed. Not enough to touch her, but close enough that they could touch if she wanted, hypothetically, possibly, maybe, to touch.

She turned her head towards him. Her hair shifted around her shoulders, spilling over them like woven silk, or like they were carved from marble, in perfect sheafs and sections. That familiar gaze seared into him, still distant and piercing, but not so cold anymore.

Someone was screaming on the television. The sound was distorted, cut through by static. It was some kind of brutal death, he was sure, judging from the sounds. The flash of a blade, the splash of water against linoleum, what could have been a fresh splatter of flesh.

Jackie leaned a little closer—still not close enough to touch, no, of course not. He’d understand if Heather shoved him away and started gagging. He’d be a little offended if she gagged, obviously…

“Stop.”

He flinched back at once. “Sorry, I—”

“I didn’t tell you to move. Stop moving. Stay there.”

Heather was not as shy as he was. She closed the gap between them with fluid ease, wrapped her arms around him and settled in the crook of his neck and shoulder. He wondered if she had more experience than him, to put it that way. She made this look easy.

He tried not to be so tense, tried to follow her lead. Jackie hadn’t been held in so long. It was supposed to be relaxing, but he was too occupied with making sure he didn’t screw it up. It was imperative that he did everything right. Heather already had enough reason to hate him.

“Hm?” She shifted her head. Her hair grazed the back of his neck. “Something wrong?”

“No.”

Someone was monologuing on the television. He couldn’t make out any of the words. Something serious, maybe a confession or a heated confrontation.

“Do you want me to let go?” she murmured. “You can ask me to stop, you know.”

“No, this is okay.” He shut his eyes. “I’m okay.”

“Why is your heart beating so fast?”

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed, a low and weary sound. “Don’t say that.”

“Sorry—“ He cut himself off. “I won’t.”

“That’s not what I meant. Say what you want. I don’t care. Apologize, if you want. But I wish you would…”

She didn’t finish her request. Instead, she placed a hand on his chest, where his heart buzzed so incessantly, betraying him, under the thick, solid black sweater he had borrowed from her.

He didn’t know what she wished for, but he knew he would give it to her. He wasn’t stupid; he was aware she could change her mind. He needed whatever brief protection her love offered, if it meant receiving her affection, her kindness. Such blunt terms would not bother him. All relationships were just company for company, tooth for tooth, an eye for an eye. The price was heavier here, perhaps, but it was still a simple one.

Heather pushed him down onto the bed. Slow, steady, the steady pace she had with the scalpel and saw. His eyes fluttered open. He remembered the metal pressure against his insides, against his stomach, his bones, a wound deeper than his flesh and nerves. He swallowed, and the thought died.

Exchange, give and take. That was all. That was… all. That was it, and he didn’t need to worry. He would be fine with that. He didn’t resist, let her push him down. The fabric was soft under his head.

Heather looked down at him, a watcher from above, indecipherable as always, still studying him.

He hesitated. She was waiting. He was supposed to say something, or do something, but his words faltered to a harsh blank.

She did not wait forever. She laid down beside him, nestled close and held him tight. The fabric shifted underneath them. A shiver clawed up his spine, but he remained perfectly still.

Now he could feel her heart beating as well. Hard, heavy beats, as unyielding as wrought metal. Her breath feathered up against his neck. The tang of orange blossoms filled up his lungs like sand and cement, a cloying citrus smell. The television muttered and murmured, but he barely heard it. His face was feeling flushed. He was painfully aware of each and every part of her, the curve of her shoulders, the precise pressure of her arms. The tension coiled with each exhale and inhale, wound up and up in his chest, grew thick in the back of his throat. But Heather was content to just lie there, so he was too.

The sky outside the window shone white-speckled black. Night had already fallen. It was unbearably cold out on the street, Jackie was certain, but he was inside and safe and warm. Not safe, necessarily, not yet, not quite… but he was inside and warm. Two out of three wasn’t so bad. And he wasn’t alone. It made him want to cry.

Heather closed her eyes. He didn’t see this happen, but he felt the butterfly-wing motion of her eyelashes pushing against his skin, grazing him like the spill of her hair.

It was easy to forget that constant heaviness in his chest. It was easy to just give up, give into it for one night. He was wanted here and it was going to be okay.

Their silence stagnated. The stars flickered, dim against the city’s brash lights. He closed his eyes.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump

#whump writing #whump #Spiderwebs toyybox #my writing #intimate whumper #carewhumper #💔💔💔#Jackieeee :(

13 notes · View notes

xsapphirescrollsx · 1 year

Text

Celestials

Written: Nov 10, 2020

dark!Walter Marshall/Arch Angel Gabriel x Black Female Reader

Rebloging supports writers!

He leaned against the car, crossed an ankle over the other and stared down at the bated breaths of the mortally wounded man not too far away. His spirit seeps away like his blood upon the pavement. From holes too deep to heal it pours out and pools underneath his back, under his arm, down to his fingers.

“Please help me…” the man whispered to the air.

The being observing the mortal coil looked up to the sky momentarily wondering if the man indeed would be heard. But his eyes fell back to the man, who’s blank stare lingered long after his heart stopped beating.

“You are loved above all things.” said the being.

He unfolded his big black feathered wings and pressed the palms of his hands into the roof of the car. Leaning back further, studying death, in all its glory as he did so many times before. He wondered, with sadness, that one day you would look like this too, again.

“It is now my time.”

“You’re time for what?” asked Walter, who had appeared as nothing more than a whisper of a body.

The being turned his head to the left where Walter stood. The being pointed at the ground, while Walter’s eyes landed on his own body.

“No.” Walter took a step toward his lifeless shell. “I--no..save me!” he shouted and turned back toward the winged being.

“That isn’t my area.” said the being and stood up straight from the car. “Looks pretty permanent.”

Walter shook his head, something akin to tears pooled in his eyes, but they didn’t shed, only made what should be his eyes glisten.

“However…” said the being. “There are a few loop holes..if one were to be asked for service.”

“What is it?” Walter asked quickly, he looked back at his body and thought anything, anything would be better than this. He had so much more to do.

“Is that a yes?” asked the being.

“A yes to what?”

The being crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at Walter. “It’s an open yes, take it or die.”

Life as Walter knew it was upside down. What was left of him lay on the ground rotting as he thought about the being’s request.

“I’ll do it.” said Walter finally. He stared back at the being taken in the smudge of a face that had no identifiable features. “Yes.”

Human brains are hard to navigate at the best of times. Their free will makes it inherent that they do what they please. It was a hard mold to fit into but the being tried. Memories unfolded, along with the sensations that having a human body entailed. But they, who this being was beyond the world, wasn't too different in regards to a human soul.

Where their spirits were immense, so was his and it took time to press and squeeze this eternal energy into a place so small. But the being liked it here, encased for once, his focus centered on what it meant to be human and live as they do. After a few weeks comatose Walter awoke one evening after shift change.

Suddenly taken in by the hospital gossip, the nurses stayed longer in the break room than they normally would have. A trick of the mind, while their spirits are strong, their thoughts are narrow and susceptible to the slightest change.

Walter groaned as he sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the edge. He wondered how the others above thought of him now. They were probably watching, not that he could see them with human eyes. But he could definitely sense something elsewhere, silently observing just as he had done not too long ago.

He stretched hard, opening his arms, unfurled his wings and yawned like had slept the last thousand years. A tingle in his fingertips coursed up his arms, down his chest and settled in his groin. The hospital gown rubbed against his cock, it hardened more and Walter couldn’t help the chuckle that followed as he stared down at it.

He had certainly missed that.

The man in the next bed gasped. Walter ignored it as he flipped through memories like a book and found his heart rushing when the images landed on the pretty face from the coffee shop. No, she was more than that to Walter. In fact, you were more to the being too.

Walter glanced around the room at the bouquets of flowers dotted with little white cards. Too bad you never realized the impact of your life, he thought. He got off the bed, his ass hanging out of the back of the gown and strode toward the wardrobe. He rummaged through the clothes, found a few things that looked good enough. He put it on and grabbed the long trench that belonged to the man in the next bed.

He opened the window to the sound of voices coming from the other side of the door. And before they stepped over the threshold. Walter turned to the man in the bed who was staring at him with wide open eyes. He jumped up on the edge, smiled as he held the side of the tall window.

“You’ll be okay for another year,” said Walter. “But you might want to stop jerking off so much--not sure that ticker can handle much more.”

The nurses' voices made the man turn to them to get their attention. He pointed to the window, but when he looked back, the man was gone.

You had just finished counting the money, putting away product for the next day as Walter watched you from across the street. In your well worn apron you walked across the shop to grab your stuff from the counter. Key in hand, you stepped out into the cold and locked the door behind you.

Beautiful girl, thought Walter. Even with the tired look in your eyes, the sag in your shoulders from a day's work, he could see why Walter wanted you. But what made him want you was nothing short of yearning. And being an angel, yearning was just as immortal as their lifespan. He knew your soul, had seen it over and over again throughout the ages. And what a wonderful surprise for him that Walter had led him to you.

“Don’t,” said a voice from his side. Walter turned his head, the ghostly frame of the body he inhabited appeared. “Don’t hurt her.”

Walter chuckled and continued to follow you with his eyes down the street until you disappeared around the corner. “You and I want the same things Walter.”

“You just want to use her.” said Walter’s spirit.

“Ever since she stepped down I’ve always searched for her,” said Walter.

“She’s like you?” he asked.

“At one time, yes.” said Walter. “Centuries ago of course. She’s died thousands of times by now. You would think she would tire of mortality.”

Walter began to walk, across the street, down the same path, trailing behind her once she came back into view again. “From time to time I’ve found her. I like to spend what little opportunity I have with her. You understand?” asked Walter.

Walter’s spirit strode behind his now winged body. Not affected by the cold, the snowy gust blew through him. He was quiet for a few seconds as the angel continued to speak.

“I won’t hurt her, it’ll be your body after all.”

It sounded too much like a threat to Walter, he tried to grab for his own shoulder but his hand passed right through. “Wait!” Walter’s spirit shouted, but he kept walking.

“Trust me, after this---she will be yours until the end of your days...well again.” Walter laughed.

The being wanted a piece of you. He sniffed the air and found your scent unchanged even after centuries. He wished he could take you back with him. The human heart in his chest pounded hard against his ribcage and inspired him to pace back his heavy breathing. He had to be quiet.

Walter stepped down out of your window. The sound of the shower beyond the cracked bathroom door became the only invite he ever needed to be near you. Walter tossed the jacket on the floor and began shedding his clothes a piece at a time. A child of God waited for him, whether she knew it or not, was about to face the almighty carnal desires of an under sexed angel.

Walter’s spirit appeared again through the front door. His voice bounded through the room,“This isn’t-”

“Hush,” commanded Walter and he did. “She’ll be yours after this. Open yourself Walter, feel what I feel.”

Walter’s translucent figure faltered where he stood. He grabbed at his chest and for a moment swore he could feel his own heart beating.

“Yeah, it’s easier to do when you’ve been newly parted.” said Walter, but his eyes were still staring at the shadows behind the door as the shower shut off. “So relax…” whispered Walter.

Walter rushed forward, wings flared open helping him move across the room at lightning speed right at you. He pinned you up against the wall next to the open bathroom door. Still damp, a towel draped down the front of your body was the only barrier between you and the man.

The way you fought like nothing would be the same again was adorable. The threats that crossed your lovely lips magical, it had been so long since he heard them anyway that he ignored the tears that followed.

He had to hold your head in his hands, it forced you to open your eyes and truly see the person before you.

“Walter?”

Confusion looked back at him.

“Close, but not quite.”

Your eyes moved from his face to the great feathered wings hovering behind him. He could tell as you watched them your mind was being blown wide open. As he moved, they moved, as he spoke they twitched with his meaning. “I’ve missed you.” said Walter.

He brought your hands up to his lips. Kissing them, licking sometimes too, tasting your clean skin he kept his eyes upon yours. “We only have this night…” he whispered.

“I heard you got shot. This isn’t real..” you squeezed your eyes tight, tried to pry your hands from his. “This is not real.” you whimpered and tried to move away.

Walter pulled you close, wrapped his big arms around your body even though your legs threatened to fold where you stood he dragged you along. The moments clung precariously on a few seconds before it collided with a series of shuffles. Walter plucked you from where you stood, threw you on the bed and covered your body with his.

You tried to piece together what was happening, how it could happen but it was your downfall. Walter pushed inside of you without so much as a warning. His wings bunched in tight along the length of his body as his hips began to move fast and hard. Electricity shot through your body the second his cock pulsed inside of you. Everything leading up to the last thirty minutes began to evaporate from your mind and be replaced with the bliss in this moment. Sliding in and out, pressing his heavy chest into you, he suffocated your entire being with his.

And when you squealed from the pleasure thumping throughout your body, Walter didn’t stop. He took it as an invitation of your heavenly spirit reaching out to his. Always amazing, always overly tender, the bodies of humans, the tip of his cock ached for release.

Your eyes lifted to his, matching his intensity, Walter’s hand grabbed your wrists when you tried to hold his face. It had been awhile, but he licked his lips, leaned down and kissed your lips. You clenched down tight around him, sucking him in further, pushing him over the edge. The moment he hit the crescendo, almost filled to the brim with such delicious ecstasy the being inside of Walter was ejected from his body.

The being stared at the bed, black wings began to shed and crumble at the same time Walter groaned hard. He hung his head over you, his shoulders swaying and he collapsed on top of you.

“You really shouldn’t meddle in their lives Gabriel.” said a feminine voice behind him.

Gabriel, the being, swung around toward the voice. The tall, plumpy figure stepped forward. “Barachiel!” shouted Gabriel.

“They chose to walk away for a reason. Your infatuation with her borders on unforgivable. And you promised to keep your distance when they both stepped away, remember?”

“What are you doing here?” asked Gabriel. He looked back at the bed. The feathers had disappeared, what was left were two naked bodies, one male the other female. “She..I--”

“She heartedly dislikes you. Has since..well the beginning of time. Learn how to lose gracefully Gabriel.” said Barachiel, she crooked an eyebrow at the scene. “Well, at the very least you have helped them find each other again. It’s been about--what, three thousand years?”

Gabriel fumed, as he began to pace back and forth at the end of the bed. “He said yes to an open request, Barachiel!”

Barachiel shrugged and kept staring after the figures on the bed.

“What happened?” you asked, your breaths came fast as Walter moved off you. He sat back on his folded legs and gazed back.

“I….” he tried to remember, to form any sort of logical theory as to why he was here, naked..with the cute woman from the coffee shop.

You grabbed for the nearest pillow, covered your body as you scooted away from Walter.

“Look at them Gabriel, even now their spirits recognize each other. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Walter’s eyes dropped to your hand on the bed, he reached for it and you didn’t pull away. “Can we just say this was a weird beginning?” he asked.

“So weird,” you almost chuckled if it weren’t true. “I just..I feel like I’ve known you all my life. Like, not just because of the shop either...”

Walter nodded, with his other hand ran it through the wild curls brushing his forehead. He pushed them back and then came to sit directly in front of you.

“Disgusting.” Gabriel hissed. “...but yes.” he added. He stopped pacing and conceded that this time the two of you had won.

Walter caressed your cheek before kissing you tenderly on the lips. He pulled back, it seemed so obvious that all of this was strange, that the rational part of him called for caution. But while you were here, staring back at him, he felt the panic of loss before it gently subsided.

“I never want to know a day again without you in it.” said Walter.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Nothing worse than arch’s turned human.” he said.

#Walter Marshall #Walter Marshall x Black Female Reader #black female reader #x black reader #I block accounts who won't reblog and just like

60 notes · View notes

sw124 · 4 months

Text

This is my Fursona [or should I Bugsona]

Likes: Playing games with friends, video games, board games, Cards against humanity, fairy lights, cooking, fluffy bathrobes, fruit, yoga/meditating/exercising with friends, long car rides with friends, car games, cloudy days, all kinds of dairy products, gameplay videos (across all genre, many of them without commentary), waterparks, coffee, happy pranks (no one gets hurt or embarrassed by)

Dislikes: Hot/ humid/sticky/ weather, bad/rude restaurant service, food covered in nothing but grease, trash talkers, overly bright lights.

Absolute loves: Tea/Fruit tea, making honey/honey snacks, baked goods, naps, cuddling with friends, anything plush, campfires, marshmallows/fancy/roasted and s’mores, restaurant hopping, sushi, hotpot, any kind of food you share with friends, audiobooks, bookstores, ASMR content, white noises, camping and above all, Autumn and Winter. (Mamu:…don’t forget a certain wolf…)

Dislikes bordering hate: People who intentionally ruin meals with disgusting comments, bigots, overall rude/disrespectful people, unsanitary/unsafe work conditions, sour milk, very loud noises, unnecessary jump-scares in real life, sever/dangerous weather, rude wake up calls (like the kind people use to prank other), mean/cruel pranks, being sick.

Pronouns: She/Her They/Them

Sexuality: Asexual (ageosexual) Polyromantic.

Galactic honey/honey treats: Depending on the season and constellation currently in the sky at the time the color and taste will change drastically, but will always taste/look as beautiful as the season and constellation its made in.

General Personality: Bordering on motherly/big sister, she’s often checking on everyone’s health, doesn’t matter if it’s mental or physical she’s always checking on them. An introvert by nature but does socialize when it involves friends, however even if it’s with friends; she can get overwhelmed easily and tends to retreat to places away from the crowds. Other than that she’s an overly kind, affectionate person who always wants to make you feel warm and loved. Often seen hopping around restaurants or bookstores or in her own home making treats/goodies for friends and families. Despite being part moth she’s not fond of (overly) bright lights, it becomes too much, to the point it hurts her. She’s drawn more to soft or gentle glows like from candles, fairy lights, LED reading lamps or Moon/Starlight.

She loves making ASMR content, she stays away from the… ‘Explicit’ kind of ASMR and sticks to more sensory sounds, recording nature sounds like waterfalls, rain, bird calls, walking around in snow, campfires and then some. But often she’ll record herself reading a story or simply talking about constellations and making her famous honey snacks. She rarely uses her wings for flight, often using them as a blanket to wrap herself [or friends] in. Always has a sleepy expression despite being wide awake, speaks very softly that sometimes comes off as a whisper, makes a buzzing sound when stressed, overwhelmed or angry/mad.

Relationships: She’s private when it comes to relationships but some have seen her roaming around town and popular date spots with a female wolf, black fur with a patch of white along the belly. Often seen holding hands or cuddling close to one another, though not yet confirmed if in a committed relationship, they seem to be very, very, VERY close.

{ commissioned art by @eomlotanis }

#sfw furry #fursona #bugsona #furry fandom #comission

6 notes · View notes

aicosu · 1 year

Note

18 👀

"You look lost." Eddie whips around the blackened alley, but sees no one, nothing. Nothing but slick oil-stained asphalt and busted-up chipper vending machines. "I can help you." He turns again, hearing a flicker in the voice that sounds just like the buzz of the fluorescent kiosk behind him and—oh god dammit, it is the kiosk. "Buzz off!" He waves his hands at the pink advertisement, pulsing hearts and sales at him.

The digital face of a blonde blue-eyed baby girl crumples, her lips pouting and brows furrowing to imitate some emotion. Nervous. Scared. The BIG BLOWOUT lettering disappears around her head and the advertisement zooms out to show her crossing her arms on her electric cloud. "I-I just wanted to—!"

"I'm not buying whatever you're selling, soda girl. And I know your scam! You're not getting my ID Data by making me talk so you can use corporate tactics and native—" "You did that yourself Eddie Munson of the 429-70 sector—" "Hey!" He rushes as the kiosk and other parts of it light up from proximity. She twists into a bigger frame and leans over to pop images up between her fingers. "—and I'm not interested in selling you a GIBSON 340 Flyer series BLACK or the 76th edition of Dueling Dragon—" "Knock it off!" He bangs knuckles on her pixels, poofing his most recent engine searches into square dust. She laughs. It bubbles into audio pops from a speaker that had long been blown at. Stars rotate in her cartoon-like eyes. "I just want to help, you look like you haven't been to the pink district before."

Pink district. Eddie twists on his boots, eyes roaming over the tops of the building he's been wandering between, trying to see the neon grid of the city's artificial sky for traces of the color that denotes each zone. He thinks through the smog he can see it. Pink.

He returns to the kiosk, watching the rotating words start their default script above her head. INTIMATE MOMENTS. GET TO KNOW ME! 5KEY SENSATION! FLASH INPUT FOR CUSTOM FANTASIE— She's a Playtime Prostitute. "I don't—I'm n-not here for—your services are not required!" He claws fingers at her, feeling attacked from all sides by his new location ping and her chest when she giggles. "I do have a module for Knights and Maidens—!" "S-Stop! D-don't fucking read my order history, it's rude." "Sorry!" she says, but she's grinning, floating up to cross her legs on a heart that pulses beneath her. "Can't help my code." "Am I past 34th and Adven?" "By two blocks!" She flashes into a new pose, dipping past one frame to the protruding sign so she can point past where he came from. "You're closer to the VR Domes now." "Fuck." "Where are you looking to—" She turns up at him and from this angle, the scanner must be close enough, because her eyes barcode over when they snag his badge. "Ohhhhhh! A Repo-man!" Eddie slaps his hand over the metal bracket on his jacket but it's too late. "How can I help you officer?" she coos, wiggling her hips with stars in her eyes again. "Oh, don't. Cancel Authority Service program. I don't like working with ai's anyway, you all track my target's credit scores and sell them loans at interest." "I'm a sex doll," she deadpans, floating to a high frame where it crops to just those entrancing eyes, that little nose, and those gussed up lips/ Perfected down to the algorithm. For a busted-up kiosk, she looks... really good. And the lack of interaction in the back of an alley didn't seem to fry her function. At least not yet. "I can't track anything, I'm not allowed." "Not legally." Eddie swallows. "But all you things are just dirty little car dealers." She blinks. Smiles. Shy. Or maybe sly. The colors of the kiosk coordinate a hot red and flash her through different outfits. A translucent street set, those new dance bandages, and then something super old world—denim shorts and a bathing suit top with sneakers. She sits crossed-legged and starts playing with the ties on her shoulders. She's got him, the entire thing is working as intended, using all its collected data to sell him something customized. Something from his collected magazines and website cookies. And he's a fucking idiot because he knows it but doesn't stop her. "I just wanted to help you. You know I have to be wired to the grid for theft." She has a GPS tracker. He didn't even think of that. Can't think of anything when her top falls off but emojis censor her with animated DnD dice and guitars. The red drips away to pink. She starts laughing. Eddie grasps his face with both hands to hide. Is he really gonna get hard and jerk one out in front of an old commercial in the back of some alley? Really?

"Can you just tell me where the Syranx Warehouse is? Huh? Or is lying part of the scam here?" "What part are you collecting from the poor guy? Not his little rod?" she asks, biting her nail and winking. Eddie groans, and checks his work watch, tapping through the data to yank up his mark's collection ticket. A hologram of a V-model leg prosthesis rotates between them on his wrist. "His leg! How cruel! How will he walk?" Eddie shakes his head. "Look, what do you want from me? He shoulda paid his monthly." "How scary you are, Eddie Munson." She twists a finger in her hair. "Hope you don't... come for me one day." "I don't come for ai—oh." He cringes, realizing her sexual innuendo too late into her roar of giggles. "I can change that!" she declares and twists into a new frame—transformed into a cheerleader outfit. "STOP!" Eddie bangs on the fiberglass. She ripples pixels, falling over laughing, pleated skirt perfectly peeking underwear. "That's a low blow you pop-up witch!" "Encrypt your life then!" she teases. It's a good point, but an expensive one. "Just give me directions!" "Promise to come back!" Eddie inhales. It's not contractual. It's authentic programming. Nothing digital can hold you to anything unless biometrics are involved. No this is just her, using years of being turned on to collect and create her own machine learning for targeting and manipulating people. Or, rather—she's being cute. "S-s-sure." It's all he can manage. Because apparently now he's a company shill. She claps her hands and a scanner code pops up. "Maps for the scary Repo-man!" He flashes his watch over it and watches in horror as pink hearts burst and pop from his digital screen. "Don't infect me, okay? I trusted—" But he stops when a map appears and a cute little cartoon icon of her points at a dot with a simple flashing. YOU ARE HERE! He looks back up at her, where she's laid back down in her original posting with the BLOWOUT SALE next to—oh, that makes a lot more sense now. "T-thanks." He scratches his head, grateful but ashamed. She waves fingers at him coyly. "Listen uh—Uhm. What's your... make and...uh model? You know for... I'll do the survey or whatever—" "I'm Chrissy." She winks, flashing open the tag with her company and link. "Thanks, Chrissy." "Come back soon!" He very much will not be. He'd avoided the Pink District for this very fucking reason. Well, not this reason in particular but this can definitely be added to the top of the list. But he knows that the scan was already logged. That his eye implant recorded the whole interaction. That her link in his memory was fucking... clickable.

God dammit.

46 notes · View notes

runonthewater · 2 months

Text

Sometimes, on your fourth day on the road, you get so sick of the way the one pair of shorts you packed fit that when after a full day of driving, you go to the cheapest clothing store in Fort Nelson, buy a pair of patterened rayon jeans on clearance, and hack them off at the knees with the dull kitchen scissors that live in the van. Although these makeshift shorts do not necessarily fit you better than the ones you packed, they at least fit you differently.

Four days on the road. Temporally, this puts me halfway through the eight-day itinerary. At just over 1000 miles from Seattle (as the Google maps, not counting some side trips and the occasional back-tracking for a good view), and a little under 1000 from Tok, Fort Nelson puts me about halfway through the drive geographically, as well.

I started the morning in Dawson Creek, at Mile 0 of the Alaska Highway. (I met a nice Swiss couple at the mile marker who were, like me, getting their photo op in. They'd driven from Halifax and were planning to go all the way up the Dalton Highway! Because I am the kind of nerd that I am, as soon as I got back in the car, I turned on "The Last of Barret's Privateers" and belted about being a broken man on a Halifax pier in their honor.) Immediately outside Dawson Creek there was a lot of truck traffic, and I spent quite a while tailgating and being tailgated as steep grades and a lack of passing lanes kept us all stuck together.

By the time I reached my first rest stop in Wonowon, though, the driving had changed noticeably. In the first three days I spent a decent amount of time keeping an eye on my mirrors for people in smaller cars that would want to pass me. Once I was truly on the highway, the number of passing vehicles dwindled significantly. And the landscape spread out soon enough into rolling evergreen forests, bisected by the road. It's August, so fireweed dusts the cleared firebreaks on either side of the highway in a Barbie pink that looks unreal and is almost impossible to capture on my phone's camera. The deciduous trees flash the pale undersides of their leaves at the northbound traveler, revealing how windy it is.

This is what I think of when I think of the Highway: these long, straight stretches with big sky and no one around. The kind of wildlife I associate with the north is starting to appear, too. I saw a black bear galumph across the road around 4PM, and a little further on I saw a doe nursing a faun beside the road. Both obviously moved too fast for me to get pictures. The blackbirds scavenging on the highway are also clearly ravens, now: they're too fucking big to be crows. The other day I saw a black bird so big that I couldn't not spot it, despite the shade of the trees. Ravens are big.

The halfway point means I've been out here long enough to get a couple routines down. It also means I've been out here long enough to decide on problems -- e.g. the aforementioned shorts, the fit of which I am sick, or the buurned-on bits of fries I reheated in a pan without any oil the other nnight. But overall, as I told a local while I filled up today, the van treats me well.

Halfway also means I start thinking about the end of the trip. To be honest, today I thought about stopping earlier than Fort Nelson, partly because I was much more tired from yesterday's drive than expected, and partly because I don't want to rush. The lack of services between Dawson Creek and Fort Nelson ended up deciding me and I pushed on, but the possibility of extending the time on the road, letting the bubble of travel get just a little bigger, is tempting.

On the other hand, I miss my dog. And paying less than $150 per gas tank refill. Getting to Alaska, and then home, will be nice. When I get there.

A few less highfaluting thoughts (I blame Nabokov for the style): tonight I not only got to use the levelers to even out one side of the van for the night, I'm swatting skeeters like mad. The bugs are most definitely getting worse as I go north. The windshield is a war zone, and when I stopped earlier I found the van SURROUNDED by wasps and flies. Are they feasting on their fallen brethren? will they please leave me alone???

#the big road trip 2024 #alaska highway #van life

4 notes · View notes

anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

Text

Born or Created - a post-apocalypse au (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC)

Summary: The monsters invaded five years ago. Creatures like the ones native to our world, but just slightly off. And exceptionally deadly. No one knows where they came from, and at this point, no one cares enough to ask. The cities lay abandoned, the forests deadly quiet, and what of humanity that's left is scattered - focused only on survival.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x OC (Ronnie Bradshaw)

Word Count: 6199

Warnings: flashbacks in italics throughout, violence, gore, horror creatures, the end of the world, guns, car crash, blood mention, pregnancy mention, early/premature labor/birth (in a world with no nicu...hopefully you can see where this is going)

ONE | TWO | THREE

-> likes are great but comments/reblogs are even better!

-> this was born from a made-up fic title sent in by @newlibrary and i just took it and ran (also thank you for beta reading bestie)

-> please let me know if you want more of this!!

“Ronnie? Ronnie, can you hear me?” Jake spoke frantically into the phone as he fished his keys out of his pocket. “Darlin’ where are you?”

“I-I’m at the house,” she replied, voice high-pitched and wavering through the phone speaker. “Jake, what is — ?”

There was an explosion somewhere in the background, she screamed. Her breaths still came in heavy against the speaker, static and rough.

“Look, just — just stay where you are. I’m comin’ to get you,” he said.

His hands were shaking. He finally got his truck door open before he jumped inside, slamming it shut behind him. Something fell out of the sky and landed right next to him in the parking lot. The truck rocked back and forth at the impact. But Jake tuned it out, all he could hear was Ronnie’s terrified whimpers through the phone.

“I’m scared,” Ronnie whispered.

Jake screwed his eyes shut. “I know, baby. I’ll be there soon. Get somewhere safe in the house, okay?”

“Okay — “

The line went dead. He looked down at his phone — no service. A cell tower must have gone down. Jake started the truck, felt it rumble beneath him as it turned over. He wrapped both hands around the wheel…

And he hesitated. He looked over his shoulder, back at the air base he just ran from. Helicopters were slowly rising into the air. He flinched as one got blown out of the sky, exploding into a ball of flame, by one of the unknown objects. He took a vow to protect and serve his country. Had dedicated nearly his entire life to it.

Jake turned back around, his eyes catching on the black band on his finger. He took a vow to protect and serve her too.

His choice was already made.

Something banged against the truck’s window, cracking the glass into a spider web. Jake turned, jumped back away from the broken window, and he saw a deer. Or what could have been a deer. Accept there were too many horns, too many eyes — and when it opened it’s mouth, the teeth were sharp and deadly. And he watched, something like ice gripping his heart, as it rose up onto its hind legs.

“Oh, fuck!”

Jake grabbed his rifle and checked the clip. Plenty of shots left. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it or any of the spares that he had in his backpack. Things were usually calm at that time of day. Slinging the gun and the bag over his shoulder, he exited the tent.

The sky was overcast. Painted in shades of grey, blotting out the sun. That meant the Crawlers may come out of their dens. Maybe there would be some use for his rifle after all.

As he moved through the grid of tents, boots sinking slightly into the wet earth, he nodded in greeting at the other people milling about. The women washing their clothes in the basin of dirty water. The men chatting over a shared canteen. He passed through the tents and came out onto the main road, a wide path tred so often the grass refused to grow.

The Big House loomed on top of the hill to the north. A giant brick colonial covered in creeping ivory, looming like a beast with too many eyes over the tents and farmland that spread out below it. To the south, The Gate stood as a mouth wired shut. Meant to keep everything out and let nothing escape.

Jake avoided looking at the house as he turned towards The Gate, adjusting the pack on his shoulders.

People were screaming, running with anything they could grab in their arms. Several houses on their street were burning, smoke rising into the bright blue sky. What might have been a bear ran past the truck as Jake sped down the road, but he didn’t have time to look.

Their house seemed intact save for the windows being blown in, though their neigbors’ front room was gone and a great smoking crater took its place.

Jake parked the truck in front of the house haphazardly. Tires up on the sidewalk before he cut the engine and lept from the vehicle. Another explosion went off somewhere, the screams echoed through the neighborhood. Somewhere, he heard a baby crying.

The front door was unlocked and he didn’t even notice until he barreled into the living room, eyes frantically searching for any sign of his wife.

“Ronnie! Ronnie, where are you?” he yelled into the house as he ran down the short hall to check the spare room for her.

“Jake!” her voice replied. “I’m up here!”

He bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. A flood of relief washed over him when he finally saw her. Standing in the middle of their bedroom with fear in her eyes. There was a cut on her cheek, the blood running down her face dried like a tear. They crashed into each other, tide to the shore — his arms banding around her shoulders and holding her to him like he needed her to breathe. She shuddered as she gripped him back just as tight, burying her face into his chest.

“Come on.” Jake pulled away first, stepping back to retrieve a bag from their closet. “We need to get outta here.”

“What about Brad? Did you see him?” she questioned.

Jake paused, hand white-knuckled around the door handle. “He stayed. He’ll be safe there.”

She nodded and left it at that.

“Where are we gonna go?” she asked, even as she opened up a drawer in their dresser and started pulling out clothes.

“I don’t know. It’s the same everywhere — we — we were getting reports from all over,” he said, tossing her the bag before kneeling down to reach under the bed, then he paused. “Have you…Seen any weird animals?”

Ronnie began stuffing the clothes inside. “A-After the Cole’s house…I thought I saw a bear with six legs.”

“Yeah. Saw a deer like that — it tried to kill me.”

From beneath the bed, he pulled out the case for his hunting rifle.

The Gate was heavily guarded. Twelve feet high and made out of dense layers of pine wood and sheet metal. Jake remembered the day it was finished and people cheered. He couldn’t help but feel, however, like they were being locked in instead of being kept safe. Men supplied with automatic rifles and tac vests stood in pairs inside and outside the gate, and then on either side on top of the wall.

Jake approached with unease weighing heavy in his gut. This was his least favorite part of the job. But at least he was the last to arrive. The rest of his team already stood at The Gate waiting for him. They said their hellos and then went over their plan of action. Which locations they were going to check out for anything of value.

Then they turned to the guards and asked that The Gate be opened. The guards did as they asked, undoing the many bolts as thick as a man’s arm, and pushing open the doors.

“Scavengers,” one of the guards scoffed to the other as the group went past, the two of them chuckled to one another.

Jake felt the group around him tense, but no one said anything until they were several paces into the field that surrounded the wall and they heard The Gate clang shut behind them.

“Big House Thugs,” Natasha grumbled under her breath, flicking her dark ponytail over her shoulder. “I’d like to see them try to survive without us.”

“Yeah, who do they think finds all their bullets and shit?” Javy joined in irritably.

Mickey opened his mouth to join in, but Jake cut him off, “Guys, just drop it.”

The scavenger team moved into the treeline and Jake unshouldered his rifle. The other three followed his lead, holding their weapons ready to fight off whatever creatures may appear now that they were truly in The Wilds. Dense, overgrown, forest that was once tamed by man. But was now ruled by horrible creatures, designed to kill.

“You tellin’ us their shit doesn’t bother you, Jake?” Mickey asked, voice hushed and somehow dampened in the close air of the trees.

“Oh, it fuckin’ bothers me,” he replied, eyes alert as he took lead of the group. “But we all know complainin’ is a good way to disappear.”

Natasha snorted. “They can’t hear us out here.”

“You don’t know that.”

Jake took the backroads, assuming that the highways were going to be packed and dangerous. He still didn’t know where they were going. But it didn’t matter as long as they were together.

They were driving through a forest on their way out of town, the road practically deserted. And already it was calmer here than it was just a few miles back. They could still see, above the canopy of the trees, the fire raining down from the sky. The drive could feel almost normal if it weren’t for that.

“Any signal at all?” Jake asked for what felt like the thousandth time since they left the house.

“No. Nothing,” Ronnie replied with a sigh, locking her phone once more. “Jake, where are we even going?”

“I don’t know! Just…Somewhere. Somewhere safer than back there until all this blows over,” he said.

She looked down into her lap with a shaky breath. “Do you really think all of this is just gonna blow over?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

They kept driving. Further and further away from the chaos and everything they once knew. Jake gripped the steering wheel tight, the leather squeaking beneath his fingers, as a guilt burned inside him. Made his stomach turn, made his limbs feel heavy.

He didn’t regret his choice. Looking over at Ronnie sitting in the passenger seat, cleaned of blood and alive and safe with him. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he stayed. If he didn’t know if she was alive or dead or hurt. He just knew that would’ve been the case, and he wouldn’t have been able to bear it. But he can bear this guilt now. This guilt over leaving his duty and fellow man behind.

Coward. Deserter. Traitor.

Ronnie pried one of his hands off the steering wheel. He hadn’t even noticed his knuckles turning white or the pain forming in his joints until his fingers were free. She slipped her own fingers between his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. And when he looked over, her smile was soft — understanding. She knew. Of course she knew. Ronnie knew him better than anyone, even himself. He squeezed her hand back.

He looked back at the road. His eyes widened. Ronnie gasped. He slammed the brakes.

“Jake!”

As scavengers, they would be gone for days at a time. Trekking out miles away from the safety of The Big House and The Gate and the walls. Searching for anything of use or value they could bring back. Last time they went out, they found a house on a large piece of land that was once a farm, but they did not have time to check it out. Now, it was their main goal.

The group of four walked through the dense foliage in a line, each of them with a weapon raised and eyes sweeping all sides from any signs of danger. They would switch off every hour who took the lead. The house was eight miles east. They could get there by sundown.

Here was the thing about The Wilds: the further in they went, the more dangerous things became. The trees grew closer together, taller, wider. Nearly like they were walking deeper into an ocean made of green. The air became dense. Noises echoed in a strange way. Eventually, the sky would be blotted out entirely by the canopy of leaves high above them.

Whatever happened that day all those years ago changed the very chemistry of the whole world.

The usual noises of the forest remained. Birds chirped and small animals skittered about the foliage. It was when the world went silent that there was reason to worry.

He woke up slowly, mind slipping over reality like wet soap. Blearily, he saw the cracked windshield, the crumpled up hood of the truck, the giant smoking crater that was once the road just beyond. There was something in his hand, woven between his fingers. He looked over, and Ronnie’s hand was still held tightly in his own.

Ronnie was bleeding again. This time in a stream down the entire left side of her face. The blood coming from her hairline. Her eyes were closed and Jake didn’t like it.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice screamed for him to move. To grab Ronnie and run. So he started moving. His limbs felt stiff as he unbuckled and pushed open his door. It creaked in a way that made the ringing in his ears stop. Jake fell out of the truck onto his hands and knees, legs too unstable to keep him upright. The asphalt tore into his palms. Embers burned everywhere.

He knew he was moving too slow, but he couldn’t get his body to go any faster, as he got up from the ground and moved around to the other side of the truck. Prying the passenger door open, he reached across Ronnie’s lap and unbuckled her seatbealt.

“J-Jay?” she mumbled out just as her eyes blinked open.

Everything snapped back into focus. His brain finally caught up. He could feel the pain in his chest, hear the crackling of fire, and the distant echoing roar of some beast. But most of all, he could see Ronnie looking over at him with brown eyes glazed over and blood drying on her face.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he said as he reached out to cup her cheek. “You okay?”

“I — I don’t know.” She flexed her fingers. “I think so.”

“Can you stand?”

She nodded as she took his hand. He helped her down from the truck and made sure she was steady on her feet.

Touching his face, she whispered, “You’re bleeding.”

“So are you,” he chuckled, smearing the red on her cheek with his thumb.

She laughed too. At least they were alive. Together.

They grabbed their few precious things from the truck and headed into the woods. Not knowing where they were going, what dangers or safety they would find, but that was okay. They were together. The two of them against a world changed forever.

Climbing a steep hill, they reached the eastern edge of the forest. Where the trees grew thick and tall as skyscrapers. Down below in the valley was the farm, just a few acres of now barren land with a dilapidated house at its center. From this angle, they could see the crack in the trees where the road now cut through like a canyon.

The sun was setting. Painting the sky in shades of purple, pink, and orange. It would have been a beautiful view, except that Jake noticed large black shapes moving close to the house.

“Mickey, can we get a closer look?” he asked as they all looked down into the valley.

The younger man nodded, black curls bouncing, as he fished the binoculars from his pack. He held them up to his eyes, and they all waited on bated breath.

“Yep, we’ve got Crawlers,” he said after a minute of searching. “Three of ‘em. From the looks of it they found somethin’.”

“Poor whatever it is,” Natasha grumbled, lip curled as she looked down at the scene.

Eventually, they watched as the Crawlers stalked off — dragging two lifeless forms behind them. Back to their den to feast.

“We clear?” Jake questioned as he looked back at Mickey.

“Yeah. We’re clear.”

The group started down the hill.

A year. They did alright for themselves in a year. Found a hunting cabin to take refuge in. Figured out the patterns of the strange creatures that now roamed the forest. Watched as the trees grew taller, as the woods grew into something gnarled and twisted. But they endured. They adapted. They found a way to survive. Together.

Just like it was supposed to be.

Jake knew that something was wrong. Heard voices in the trees, and it definitely wasn’t the voice of his wife coming back from her foraging trip. Taking up his rifle, he followed the voices. The sounds of snapping twigs and brushing foliage that he had learned to avoid.

He came upon one man at the edge of a clearing. He could have sworn he heard two voices, but at that moment he didn’t care. For just beyond the man’s shoulder was Ronnie, unaware of the strangers presence as she squatted down to the forest floor — picking mushrooms.

Jake was soundless as he stepped up behind the man, as he raised his rifle and cocked it.

“Get any closer and you die,” Jake warned as the man looked over his shoulder at him, hands raised in surrender.

Ronnie gasped as she finally took notice of the intruder, of Jake holding him at gunpoint. She rose to her feet, laying a hand on the swell of her stomach where new life was taking form. An accident. One they both feared but Ronnie still accepted, still loved. While Jake couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to remorse.

“Put down the gun,” another voice said from behind Jake, the distinct sound of a gun cocking echoing through the trees. “Or she dies.”

“J-Jake?” Ronnie whispered, voice shaking.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, baby daddy’s gonna give it up nice and easy. Ain’t that right?”

Jake felt the muscles in his jaw clench, teeth nashing against teeth, as he shifted on his feet. Then he lowered the gun, raising it into the air along with his other hand. The first man turned and snatched the rifle away. Jake kept his hands up as he was searched for any more weapons. They found none besides a pocket knife.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Jake said.

“Oh, come on now, you really think we’re trouble?” the second man questioned mockingly as Jake was shoved in the direction of the clearing.

Jake pulled a hand through his long hair after he caught his footing. Then Ronnie was at his side, taking his hand, pulling reassurances from him. He tugged her in close. A protective hand rising to her bump. But he kept his eyes on the men who just grinned at them.

“We’re the good guys here. We’re here to save you.” One turned to the other. “Go get the boss — he’s gonna wanna see them first.”

One left, but the other stayed to keep watch. Jake curled his hands around her tighter as he kissed her forehead.

“It’s okay, darlin’. We’re okay.”

“What the hell did he mean by save us?” she questioned quietly, tugging at the fabric of her shirt that barely still fit.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

He stiffened when they heard someone approaching, pulling Ronnie in tighter against him just in case. The man from before broke through the treeline, followed by another.

It felt like the breath got snatched from his very lungs as Ronnie pulled away from him.

“Maverick?” she questioned softly, remaining in the security of her husband’s arms.

His dark hair was long, but he kept his face clean. It was definitely him. He was even still wearing that same leather jacket. Blue eyes ever observing and calculating. But he stopped once he came into the clearing, his head cocked to one side as he smiled.

“Ronnie?”

“Oh, my God! Maverick!”

She broke away from Jake and met the other man in a laughter, tear-filled embrace. While Jake remained rooted to the spot. He never thought he would see his old Captain again — see any of them again.

“Wow, look at you,” Maverick said as he held Ronnie out at arm’s length. “Do you know how far along?”

“Maybe halfway? We’re not entirely sure.”

“Bradley’s gonna be so excited to see you.”

She made some choked noise that made Jake’s stomach drop. “Brad’s with you?”

“Yeah. He’s back with everyone else.”

“Who’s everyone else?” Jake asked from where he stood.

Maverick looked around Ronnie’s form, brows furrowed, almost like he hadn’t even realized Jake was there until that moment. His face set, he walked around her and came to stand toe to toe with Jake. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Maverick punched him — or pulled the gun he clearly had on his hip on him. Jake could sometimes still hear Maverick calling for him to stay at the base, to man his post.

But he didn’t. He ran. And he hadn’t stopped running since.

Surprising Jake entirely, Maverick reached out and took his hand. “It’s good to see you, Liuetenant.”

“Uh, y-yeah.”

“And everyone else — “ Maverick let go of his hand, smile back on his face. “Is Eden’s Shore. Only, we’re still looking for a safe shore to land on. Survivors.

“It’s better if we stick together, right?”

It took them another twenty minutes to get down the hill, and by that time, the sun was set. The world cast into darkness. They turned on their flashlights as they approached the house. It was eerily quiet. Now that it was truly dark, the Crawlers could come back. More of them come out to hunt. They took caution as they walked around to the front of the house, seeking the shelter they would find inside until morning.

“You guys hear something?” Javy asked in a hushed whisper as they crept along the edge of the house.

Jake stopped, and they listened. Yes. There was a noise.

“Sounds like it’s coming from inside,” Natasha said.

“Eyes on, everybody.” Jake moved the party forward.

They rounded the northernmost corner of the house. There was a covered front porch. The path leading up to it glistened with blood. And a lone severed, human arm rested on the front steps.

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey hissed as they took in the carnage.

Jake toed at the arm. It had been ripped from the body, flesh hanging off the shoulder like lunch meat.

“Must’ve been hiding out here,” he commented. “Didn’t know the Crawlers could come out during the day.”

“Let’s get inside,” Natasha said wearily as she moved past Jake and up the steps onto the porch.

They packed up their things for the first time in a year. It brought back all those horrid memories of the first time. The fear. The unknown. The hurt. The guilt.

“You’re moving slow on purpose,” Ronnie pointed out as she pulled back the curtain from where they kept their preserves. “What’s going through that head of yours?”

Jake sighed. Hands paused in packing their few precious items away. Of course she knew. She always knew.

“Something doesn’t feel right about this, Ron,” he admitted, and it truly did feel like a confession.

One to a god who just wouldn’t listen. She only smiled at him, small and understanding, as she crossed the room to hold his bearded face in her hands. But still, he leaned into her touch. Let his eyes slip shut as she held him, as she stroked his cheeks and felt their child kick against his abdomen.

“They’re family. Maverick and Brad — hell, even Javy is with them. Besides, we’ll be safer with them. Mav even said they have a midwife in their group.”

He relented. There was no use in arguing. All her points were valid. Were probably right. But still, the feeling, deep in his gut, remained.

Eden’s Shore walked for three more days until they found their safe haven. A large patch of land that once could have been a farm. A big brick colonial house stood at the northern edge, on top of a gently rising hill.

It was perfect.

Everyone pitched their tents around the house. But Jake noticed when the sun went down that Maverick and Brad, along with several other men, went inside the house.

And no one else was allowed in.

When they passed through the front door, the noise became louder — more distinct. It sounded like a crying child. But they couldn’t take any chances. It very well could’ve been a Decoy. A creature that looked like a bobcat, but the body was too big, the fangs were too long, and it could mimic any sound it liked. Often using it to lure in unsuspecting prey. Jake had heard them sound like a woman calling for help or a chirping bird.

Using hand signals, Jake told Natasha and Mickey to stay on the main floor of the house and keep watch. He and Javy would go upstairs to check it out.

The walls and The Gate were finished that morning. A way to keep the creatures out and keep the people of Eden’s Shore safe. People cheered and booze had been passed around. Jake saw no reason to celebrate. It was like prisoners screaming in joy at being behind bars.

But he kept up appearances for Ronnie’s sake. Who was just so happy to have her brother back, her uncle back, to be with people again. It had been just the two of them for so long. But now there was an entire colony to find support in, to lean on one another. Humans were pack animals by nature. And Jake had to admit it felt good to know where their next meal was coming from and to know that, for the most part, they were safe.

It really was just a bad feeling. A few odd things here and there. He would get past it eventually, he was sure of it. For Ronnie’s sake. For his own sake. For the sake of their child.

“Mm, J-Jake?” she spoke quietly into the darkness of their tent.

He stirred from his spot beside her on their cot, hand reaching out to touch, still half asleep. “What’s it, baby?”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” she replied, instantly he was more awake. “Feels wet…”

Jake sat up and turned on the solar powered lantern that hung above their cot. The heat drained from his face, his stomach dropped, an ice ran through his veins. Ronnie laid on her side, holding her swollen belly, and the inside of her bare thighs were covered in blood. She reached down a hand between her legs and brought it up to her eye level — trembling fingers coated in crimson. A choked sound slipped past her lips.

“I’ll go get May.”

After throwing on a shirt and pants, Jake ducked out of the military issue tent they had been given when they joined Eden’s Shore. He hated leaving her scared and alone, but he was of little use to her now and they both knew it.

If only all the tents lined up in rows didn’t all look exactly the same. If only he could remember exactly where the midwife’s tent was located in the grid. Gritting his teeth, he set out in the direction he thought was right. His heart beat rapidly inside his chest. Sweat accumulated on his palms. Panic filled his mind like a fog.

He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose her.

When he finally reached what he hoped and prayed was the right one, he pulled back the flap and called inside. The figure laying in the cot grumbled that she was the next one over. Thank God. He moved on to the next tent and followed the same steps.

“May?” he spoke into the darkness, trying not to let the panic show.

The older woman sat up. “Yes, what is it?”

“I-It’s Ronnie. She’s bleeding.”

The way she instantly threw back the covers and grabbed her bag of supplies didn’t help his anxieties.

“How much?” May asked as she passed him to go outside.

“A lot, from the looks of it,” he replied as he followed her.

“Oh, dear,” she sighed. “Must be going into labor — didn’t think she was far enough along for that.”

When they finally made it back to their tent, Ronnie was sitting at the edge of the cot, breathing deep and cradling her belly in her hand. Sweat had already started to accumulate on her brow. The blood was now everywhere. The cot, her legs, her hands, her neck, the towel she had tried to clean up with.

“Alright, Mama, how’re we feelin’?” May asked in her usual gentle way as she got down on her knees in front of Ronnie and opened her bag.

“Scared,” Ronnie admitted bravely, glancing up at Jake who remained glued to the entrance of the tent.

The panic had subsided. Now that he saw her again. Now that she was looking at him and flashing him a small smile. But then a new sort of guilt stabbed him in the heart. Not once did he think about the life and health of the baby. Didn’t even cross his mind. What was wrong with him?

They talked about starting a family before they were even married. He used to look forward to this. To becoming a father, to seeing Ronnie or himself in their children. But that was before the world ended. Before their lives were nothing but survival.

“That’s okay. It’s okay to be scared.” May pulled out the stethoscope and put the plugs in her ears. “Alright, honey, let’s check on baby.”

She pressed the diaphragm onto her bump, reassuring grin falling as she moved it around — searching. It always took a minute. It wasn’t an exact science. So many other noises going on in there. Eventually, she put the stethoscope away, saying that her not being able to find the heartbeat was nothing to worry about right now. But Jake could see it. The concern on May’s gently wrinkled face. The terror crashing in Ronnie’s eyes.

Ronnie’s face collapsed in pain, the heels of her hands digging into the cot as she tucked her chin to her chest and whimpered. Jake crossed the tent in an instant. Kneeling at her side and cupping the back of her neck with one wide palm.

“Jake, please,” she whispered.

He didn’t know what she was asking for. But he wanted to give it to her. Wanted to make this stop. Wanted to go back to a lifetime ago when everything was happy, when everything was good.

All he could do was press his forehead to her temple and mutter his reassurances, as hollow and empty as they felt.

Jake and Javy crept up the stairs, guns held aloft. The house was old, falling apart at the seams. Each step creaked and groaned beneath their weight. But still the noise persisted, somehow getting louder.

As he listened, Jake wondered if it really was a Decoy. There was always a repeat point. Like a track resetting, or the needle skipping over the grooves in a record. This noise didn’t have that. It just kept going, never repeating the same thing twice.. A high pitched wailing. Sucking gasps for breath. More crying.

He readjusted his grip on the rifle as the stairs opened up into a hallway.

There was only one way to find out.

Ronnie wailed, head thrown back against Jake’s chest. The contractions were right on top of each other now, constant and even stronger than the ones she had been dealing with for hours.

The flap to the tent was ripped open and someone ducked inside. Jake sat up straight, holding Ronnie’s body up as they sat on their cot, ready to dive for the pocket knife just out of reach. The stranger straightened back out.

It was Bradley. Only some of the tension released from Jake’s shoulders.

There was no greeting. No expressions of his excitement or love or worry for his sister. Only:

“You need to find a way to keep her quiet.”

“W-What?” Ronnie questioned as she wreathed in her husband’s hold.

“It’s still dark out — the noise could attract those giant bug things,” he said, hands on his hips.

Jake could only look at him bewildered. “She’s in labor.”

As if on cue, another contraction started. She tensed in his arms, pushed back against his chest as she groaned low in her throat — already trying to keep herself quiet like her brother demanded.

“Yeah, I get that. But she’s gonna get all of us killed.” He then looked at Ronnie, his expression softening. “You understand that don’t you, Ron? Just tryin’ to keep everybody safe.”

She nodded. And he left. May came back into the tent just as he was leaving, carrying blankets and water warmed over the fire. It was time to start pushing.

Ronnie took Jake’s hand frantically as her body convulsed uncontrollably. Her voice came out in a strained whisper, “I can’t — I can’t keep quiet. I’m gonna…”

Jake didn’t want to. But there was truth behind Bradley’s words. They had experienced the giant bug-like creatures before. Knew just how deadly they could be. And he could see it on her face. She desperately wanted to keep quiet, but she just couldn’t. There was no way she could as she propped up her legs and began to push.

So he did the only thing he could think to do. He grabbed the damp cloth that he had been using to keep her cool, and pushed it into her mouth. She took it with no fight, clamping her teeth down on the gag hard just as she bore down. She screamed, and the rag muffled it just enough.

They stalked down the hall, heel-toe, letting the noise lead them. It was coming from the closed door on the right.

From the looks of it, the door would swing in to the right. So Jake signalled that he would go ahead and flank its other side. Javy would open it, and Jake would go inside first.

Javy counted down from three silently, then he reached out and opened the door. Jake stepped inside, gun raised and ready to open fire.

He was so small, skin bright pink. May laid him on Ronnie’s still heaving chest. Something wasn’t right. His body was tiny in comparison to his head, the ears weren’t developed, his chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. Like he was fighting for it.

“Why — Why isn’t he crying?” Ronnie asked, her voice hoarse.

May looked up at them somberly as she cut the cord. “Because he can’t, honey. His lungs…He came into this world too early.”

Ronnie sobbed, shaking hands curling around his tiny body. Holding him to her chest. Jake could only stare. Kiss his wife’s face in what he hoped was a comforting way as she continued to cry. Watch as that too small hand wrapped around Ronnie’s finger.

His son. That was his son.

Jake cupped the back of that tiny baby’s head. It fit entirely in his palm. He wasn’t going to make it. There wasn’t anything to be done. If they were in a hospital, maybe there was a chance. But they weren’t. They were at the end of the world instead. And Jake felt…

Relieved. It washed over him and then it twisted inside him like a knife.

“We never decided on a name,” Ronnie spoke quietly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Darlin’...”

“I know…I know. But he still deserves a name.”

Asher. Happy life.

They held him until morning. Until his body finally gave up the fight. Jake had to pry him out of Ronnie’s hands.

He buried his son outside the camp in silence. He didn’t mark the grave. And he did it all with a guilt and relief weighing heavy inside him. A stone. A mountain. A grave.

It wasn’t a Decoy. Jake didn’t know if what was actually standing in the middle of the room was any better.

He instantly dropped his gun, mouth falling open in shock.

A baby stood there, red faced and crying. They were holding themselves, tiny arms wrapped around their middle, as tears and snot streamed down their face.

Javy followed Jake into the room with a furrowed brow. Then he noticed the child and whispered, “Ah, shit.”

The baby instantly ran up to Jake. Wails still tumbling endlessly from their mouth as they came up to him with arms raised — wanting to be held. Jake could only fumble for a moment. Glancing over at Javy with questioning eyes. What was he supposed to do?

But then the child began to cry, “Up! Up!”

And Jake caved. He handed off his gun and bent down to pick them up. The baby curled into his chest, wails reduced to whimpers as they buried their face in the fabric of his jacket. Jake stood back to his feet, mind reeling, as his body swayed in some natural soothing instinct.

An unmarked grave but he still remembered where. That even after all these years he still visited from time to time. A relief. A guilt. Heavy as a child in his arms.

I no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates! would love to hear y'all's thoughts on this!

53 notes · View notes

umichenginabroad · 5 months

Text

New Zealand Part 1 (Week 11)

One of the beautiful things about studying at UNSW is that during week 6 of our studies, we get a flexibility week where the majority of courses don’t hold class and students are given the chance to catch up with schoolwork, get ahead, or do nothing and just relax! My hostel-mates and I knew about this opportunity from the day we got here, so a big trip was always in the works. We even knew that we all wanted to spend the time in New Zealand. The only problem? There’s 18 of us living in the hostel together and we’ve had enough trouble planning trips for just 5 or 6 people, let alone 18. Everyone had a different vision of what a trip to New Zealand could look like between camping, or renting cars and staying in AirBnBs, or living out of campervans. Needless to say, the trip planning was procrastinated all through the 4 weeks of summer and another 4 weeks of term 1. Once in a while someone would say, “Guys, we really have to plan this. Plane tickets are getting expensive!” and they’d be met with more approval and support than a professor who has suggested extending a homework deadline. But, as expected with our group, no action would be taken. Until one person sits down and buys themself a roundtrip flight to New Zealand, nobody is going anywhere. Soon enough, after intense procrastination and discussion, tickets were bought, plans were made, the group of 14 (four couldn’t make it) had divided into two campervans and two cars (who would be staying in AirBnBs), and I was sitting on a plane to Queenstown.

^^ Landing in Queenstown

Queenstown may not be among New Zealand’s 20 largest cities, but it is renowned for its adventure sports and stunning scenery, earning it the nickname "Adventure Capital of the World," as my friend Elizabeth would say. Our adventures in Queenstown, however, were put on hold until the end of the trip as we had a road trip planned that would take us up north to Christchurch and then back down to the Adventure Capital. So, on our first day there we picked up our car rentals and headed to Fiordland National Park for a quick hike. The greenest plants, mossiest rocks, and most colorful mushrooms riddled the paths and made our short hike one of the most memorable.

^^ Some New Zealand Flora

I also felt a lot safer hiking in New Zealand compared to Australia. New Zealand has none of the snakes that Australia is infamous for and has an almost negligible amount of dangerous spiders compared to the numbers Australia boasts! With our glow worm cave tour waiting for us in Te Anau, we had to get back on the road quickly. Lucky for us, there are worse places to be driving than one of the most naturally beautiful countries in the world where mountains surround you in every direction and lakes bluer than the sky itself pop up out of the blue (pun intended) every few moments. We weren’t allowed to take pictures in the glow worm caves, but imagine yourself sitting on a boat in a pitch black cave with little blue/green specks scattering the ceiling. That was pretty much it! It was interesting to learn about the glow worms themselves – they glow brighter the hungrier they are (to better attract flies) and they’re actually larvae, not worms, so they just need to survive long enough to turn into gnats and reproduce. You may be wondering why I’m sharing so much detail about random worms. Well, as a recent trivia night attendee (two weeks in a row), I see every random fact as a future topic in trivia. You can thank me later.

^^ Just the average roadside view while driving along the west side of the South Island!

Milford Sound was next on the list. Just a two hour drive from Te Anau with the option of a bus service to shuttle you there and back, Milford Sound is a large fiord stretching 9 miles (or, 15 km should I say) to the open sea. Once there, a boat cruise takes you down to the ocean and back while passing waterfalls, dramatic cliffs, and some popular scuba diving destinations. Milford Sound was highly recommended as an activity on our itinerary, and it truly lived up to the hype! From the stops on the bus ride to the scenic cruise, I was in a constant state of awe that I will never forget. The rest of the trip was just as exciting, but I’ll cover it in the next post! Until then, Cheers!

^^ The car gang on our way to Milford Sound

^^ A snippet of Milford Sound

David Bayer

Biomedical Engineering

University of New South Wales in Sydney, Australia

#umichenginabroad #ipewinter24 #ipeunsw #australia #davidbayer

2 notes · View notes

hecatemoon87 · 1 year

Text

A Modern James Delaney Story - master list

Chapter Four

Tala sat on her couch and stared out the window at the pouring rain. It was Wednesday night and in just two days, she'd be having a date with the richest man in Canada.

She wasn't looking forward to it at all. Not because of James, well, not entirely, but because he had texted her the address of the restaurant they'd meet at. It was a ritzy Italian place in downtown Vancouver.

She was just about sick of rich people things. First the charity, then the beach themed party and now an upscale restaurant. She needed to intervene before it got out of hand.

Clenching her jaw in determination she picked up the phone and called James.

"Hello Ms. Swiftstorm," James answered in his deep, smoky voice.

Tala had to admit he had a very sexy voice. Hearing it again made her nibble on her lip absent mindedly before she replied.

"Hi. So, um, I was just calling to tell you...I don't want to go to the restaurant," she said.

"I see. Are you cancelling then?" he said, sounding neither disappointed nor relived.

"No. I just want to change the date and place," she said.

"Fine. When and where," he said, flatly. Tala wrinkled her nose. He made it seem like this had now become a chore.

"Look, if you aren't interested..." Tala started to say with some heat to her voice. But James interrupted. "I am. Just tell me your plan."

"Nootka Sound, seven a.m. on Saturday," she said, firmly.

She waited for his reply, but there was just silence on the other end. "James?" she asked.

"Yes, that can be arranged," he said.

"Okay, good. You'll text me how to get there?" she said.

"Yes," he said, and then he hung up. Tala looked at her phone in disbelief. "Well good-bye to you too," she whispered to herself.

A bolt of lightening flashed in the sky bringing her attention to the outside weather once again. "I know, Great Spirit. I'm playing with fire, aren't I?"

----

It was ten minutes past seven when Tala drove up to the meeting point James and given her. She saw a big, black pickup sitting in front of a gate that blocked a service road.

As she got out of her car, James appeared from the truck and approached her. "You're late," he said.

"How was the drive, Tala? I'm so glad you arrived safe," she said, glaring at him. "I'm driving a freaking Prius on country roads, excuse me for being a little late," she said.

Tala was wearing dark gray shorts and brown hiking boots. Her top was a white t-shirt and red jacket.

"You know, most women would prefer dinner at an expensive restaurant," James said, walking to the gate. He was wearing dark blue jeans, black hiking boots and a forest green long-sleeved shirt.

"If you haven't figured out I'm not like most women, then that's very much a you problem. Besides, it's not all that bad. I did wear red like you asked," she said, putting her hands in her pockets and wiggling in her jacket.

She swear she caught a hint of a smile on his lips before he turned and unlocked the gate. Once opened, James passed through. Tala came up behind, but paused at the thresh hold.

A wave of sadness washed over her as the realization that this was the first time she'd step on her native land. A resounding sense of grief flooded her senses. She closed her eyes and thought of her people. She thought of what they had to endure when they were forced to leave their homes and assimilate to European culture.

A tear trickled down her cheek and she whispered a prayer to her ancestors. "Thank you for giving me the chance to come here, my family. I am honored to return once again to our homeland."

With that being said, she took her first step onto Nootka Sound. "Are you alright?" James asked as she joined him.

"To be honest, not entirely. This land...it's where I come from and I've never been here. This piece of the earth is where my ancestors once lived. And now, they are all dispersed, forced onto reservations. I'm sorry, you probably don't get it. I don't expect you to understand," she said as they walked.

James said nothing, instead continued forward until they came to a trial head. "This way," he said, pushing past some overgrown brush.

Tala pushed aside a small branch and followed. The trail was a simple dirt path that wound it's way through blooming trees. Small green leaves poked through the buds, like little bursts of emerald magic.

The air was lightly fragranced with the natural perfume of flowers awaking from their winter hibernation. The song of birds chirping filled the air as squirrels skittered about on the forest floor and then zooming back up the tree in which they came from.

Tala smiled and inhaled the fresh air and made a happy noise. She saw James glanced back briefly, but he returned his focus on the trail ahead. She rolled her eyes, think him too serious. He really should be enjoying the gifts of nature.

After a ten minute trek the trees opened up and they arrived on top a small bluff that looked out upon the Pacific Ocean.

"Holy shit," Tala said, impressed by the beautiful scene that just unfolded before her. James chuckled softly at her response.

"It's...it's magnificent," she said, walking closer to the edge and taking in the expanse that was the crashing sea.

"My mother used to take me here when I was a child," James said, squatting down and taking a seat on the grass. Tala joined him and looked back at the ocean.

"Your mother Sarah?" Tala said, confused. Sarah Delaney was a socialite of the highest order. She was a widow now, but Horace Delaney had left her quite a sum of money when he died. Tala did not think that Sarah Delaney had ever seen a blade of grass, let alone have gone hiking.

"Sarah is not my mother," James said, staring ahead.

"Um, what?" Tala asked dubiously.

"She is my step-mother. My real mother has been dead for some time," James replied.

Tala had read everything and anything on James Delaney. This had been nowhere in her research. It was rather startling information.

"I'm sorry, when did she die?"

"I was eight. My father sent me to boarding school in England soon after," he said, picking up a small stick and snapping it in half.

"Right. You spent ten years in London, didn't you?" Tala said, stretching out on the grass on her back. She looked up at the sky. It was a clear day, with only wisps of clouds passing by.

"I did, then four years in Berlin for University. By the time I returned to Canada I was in my mid-twenties. Not long after, my father died," James said.

Tala turned on her side to face him. "That must have been hard."

"Not really. Not with him. I barely knew the man. His death was unemotional for me," James said.

"My mom and dad, they died when I was two years old. I went to live with my grandparents," Tala said, trying to give James something in return. She felt him telling her these things was very difficult for him. And she didn't entirely understand why he was even telling her in the first place.

James nodded, but didn't make eye contact with her. He just looked out at the sea. His eyes looked so clear and blue. Tala took a moment to admire his handsome face. He had such a great profile.

James then glanced over at her and said, "My mother was Nuu-chah-nulth."

That caught Tala very much off guard. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came. Closing her mouth again, she thought about what he just said and shook her head. "Are you being serious?" she finally said.

"Salish was her name," James said, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands.

"But how? I've read everything about you, there is no mention of your mother. Let alone information about your heritage being half Nuu-chah-nulth," she said.

"My father hid it all. He basically erased her entire existence," James said. Tala saw his jaw clench tightly and his eyes narrow as he said this.

"How did she die?" Tala asked.

James closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't...I can't talk about that yet."

"Of course, no problem..." Tala said, unsure if she believed any of this.

"Can I ask...was your mother full Nuu-chah-nulth?"

"No, she was mixed with white, that's why I don't have the complexion. I look more like my father," James said. Tala thought she saw a hint of disgust.

"James, why are you telling me this?" Tala said, wanting to get to the point to all this.

"Because...because I don't have anyone to talk to about this. You've seen the society that I was raised in. They are all idiots. Selfish and unemphatic," he said, turning to face her completely. "You made me swear that night to keep my promise to you. Swear to me you'll keep what I told you quiet," he said.

"Why? What are you ashamed of?" Tala said, frowning.

"I'm not ashamed, I'm...I'm conflicted," James said, casting his eyes away.

"Conflicted? By accepting that you're part native?" Tala said, starting to feel offended.

"I don't know!" James shouted, then laid back into the grass and stared at the sky. "I fucking don't know!" he shouted loudly into the sky.

Tala return to lying on the grass on her back. She too stared at the sky once again. Silence enveloped them, but a sense of understanding hit Tala like a rock. She turned on her side and edged close to James.

He turned his face to look at her.

"I swear," she said. "I swear on our ancestors, I won't tell anyone. However, I won't date a man who can't accept who he is. But I can be his friend. Deal?"

"And if I figure out who I am?"

"Well, James. That really depends on which side of your culture you'll be accepting. I really hope it will be both."

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #james delaney #james delaney au

11 notes · View notes