#Piney Falls Trail
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Upper Piney Falls by Jason Parker
#Appalachia#Appalachians#Cumberland Plateau#Cumberland Trail#East Tennessee#Little Piney Creek#Piney Falls Loop#Piney Falls Trail#Rhea County#Spring City#Tennessee#Walden Ridge#landscape#natural beauty#naturen#outdoor#scenic#winter#waterfall#Upper Piney Falls#enn#flickr
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The Truth Slips
Paring: Fred Weasley X Reader
Rating: E
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Shameless smut without plot. Loss of virginity. Prevalence of a drinking game.
Summary: request: “i wanted to request a fred oneshot where reader is shy/bashful and a virgin and fred's his usually cocky self but sorta fuckboy-eee and yanoo they do the dirty… my guilty pleasure”
My guilty pleasure as well. Fuckboy Fred is my creme de la creme. uncanon fun silly Fred one shot.
Part 2
You nervously watch the bottle in the middle spin around. And around. And around. Until it jolted with a stop on you.
Your glance hesitates as it trails up to meet the bottle’s spinner, who’s green eyes light up with glee.
“This is gonna be so good,” Fred Weasley exclaimed with a wicked smile. He leaned back on his elbows, waiting for your next move. Gulping nervously, you reach towards him wondering how a post-Quidditch party turned into a scene from your nightmares.
Everyone who decided to partake in the game whoops and hollers as you finally reach in the middle of the circle and claim your shot glass of the clear liquid. George had suggested that the house play “Veritaserum Roulette” with a stolen bottle of the potion. While preparing N.E.W.T-level potions was a grueling task, the fun came in seeing who was able to snag a bottle from the professor’s watchful eye to share amongst the house. You decided not to inspect your shot glass and threw the liquid back down your throat, then set the shot glass upside down on the ground like you saw in the Muggle movies. You immediately felt your face get hot but you knew it wouldn’t be because you ingested any serum, rather it was the pressure of having all the 7th year Gryffindor staring you down with intense concentration.
“S-someone has to ask a question,” You stuttered, picking the shot glass back up to fidget with it. Initially when the game was introduced, it was simply truth or dare. You could’ve easily backed out if that. Now, you couldn’t stop anything that was to come out of your mouth if you chose the glass with Veritaserum. You hoped that the two questions chosen for you would spare you any embarrassment.
“Do you fancy anyone at this moment?” Angelina leaned forward, taking her hands off of Fred. She was laying herself across Fred all night, non-discreetly showing off the fact that she was his latest… “conquest” as you overheard one of his friends call the girls that swooned over the redhead. Fred shot to popularity after bringing the Gryffindor Quidditch to back to back championships and it only inflated his ego more so than it already was. Despite his poor reputation, you couldn’t deny that the girls dreaming about Fred were warranted in their pursuit. Fred and George didn’t become the star Beaters without a rigorous workout regiment that hardened their muscles and broadened their shoulders. Their rugged appearances paired with their reliable and goofy personalities made them unstoppable.
Fred also happened to be your first friend at Hogwarts, finding you crying after a particularly embarrassing flying class during your first year. He sat with you and assured you that it wasn’t a show of your skills but the result of faulty school broomsticks. From that day, Fred guided you on flying while you tutored him in Potions.
All this time later, you didn’t need flying lessons anymore, but Fred still needed Potions help. You would never admit it, but your favorite part of the week was sitting in the library with Fred absolutely engrossed in homework. You would steal glances as he nipped the end of his quill in deep thought or when he would push his falling hair out of his face. Fred’s worst trait was his lack of spatial awareness and he’d always lean in too close while you explained the more difficult concepts to him. He was always chewing a sharp minty gum and smelled of a piney cologne that reminded you of Christmas. It distracted you often and made you turn beet red when he noticed the change in your diction. This would only make Fred lean in closer, inquiring about your odd behavior. All this time, you fought off any feelings you could have developed because you were realistic. You weren’t the Quidditch player, social butterfly types that Fred dated. Angelina was a prime example. Speaking of her, your desperate attempt to avoid answering her question was null and void when you felt as if you were being puppeted to speak.
“I do,” You squeaked out. Your hands flung to your mouth, but the attempt was feeble. Everyone quickly muttered amongst themselves to figure out the next question to ask you. At this moment, you felt like a criminal on trial. The easy next question was “who?” but the chatter alluded to a deeper question. It surely appalled everyone that you had a crush. You largely avoided the dating scene despite the relentless attempts from Oliver Wood. You thought Oliver was sweet and went on a singular date with him last year, but he was only focused on Quidditch. Much like Fred.
“Who is it? Is it Oliver? If it isn’t, who?” A younger Gryffindor blurred out in excitement and you felt the same puppet feeling in your gut and as you began to answer, Fred reached over and clamped his hand on your mouth. Your face was burning so hot at this moment you were sure you were sweating.
“Hey! We can only ask one more questions. We gotta make them good. Don’t answer those,” Fred instructed, removing his hand from your face. He brushed a piece of hair that fell out of place back behind your ear, making your stomach flip. This was such a ridiculous feeling. “Did you ever bed Oliver?”
“No? N..no!” You raised your eyebrows at Fred, appalled he would ask such a question. Once you opened your mouth, more words flowed out like a broken faucet. “I’ve never bedded anyone. Oliver was always on the Quidditch Pitch and it isn’t exactly the sexiest place in the castle.”
Your statement made the room laugh, which only increased your self consciousness. You shrugged and admitted you weren’t embarrassed at the fact for never having done anything with Oliver or any man. You were already covering your face with both hands, definitely sweating at this point. The group decided to refill on butterbeer, leaving you to seal your mouth shut with a cup of water. Fred stayed next to you, his green eyes filling with a mischievous glint.
“Has the Veritaserum worn off?” Fred asked, tilting his head up to look at you. He kept unwavering eye contact that made your mind go blank.
“Not yet,” You answered, still under the influence of the potion. Hopefully Fred wouldn’t press any further or that it would wear off before then.
“Ah… So, while I have you here, you really never slept with Oliver?” Fred leaned in closer, a smirk forming across your face. You shook your head and reaffirmed what he already knew. “Why not? And don’t give me the Quidditch answer.”
“I was waiting for the right person,” You said lamely, unable to fight the potion’s effect. Fred lifted an eyebrow.
“You’ve never fantasized?” Fred blocked you from grabbing a cup of water that would render you voiceless.
“Not about Oliver. Wh-why are you asking?” You fought your thoughts hard to answer Fred’s question as vaguely as possible.
“Hey, I thought I was asking the questions here. I just wanted to know what makes the timid girl that tutors me in Potions tick,” Fred moved so close to you that you could clearly smell his cologne. Luckily, his statement wasn’t laced with a question and the potion took no effect, allowing you to shake your head shyly.
“So you said not Oliver, so who do you think about?” Fred figured out how to narrow his question and before you could stop, your mouth betrayed you.
“Us,” You said, feeling like you broke the dam. Fred’s eyes grew wide, but his body language didn’t change. You were waiting for him to recoil out of instinct or turn red. But he continued to look at you coolly, turning a cup of butterbeer in his hands. Your heart jumped to your stomach and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your flight instinct kicked in, but before you could flee from the conversation, Fred grabbed your arm and forced you back down.
“What do you think about us?” Fred’s eyes darkened with an excitement you’ve never seen before. Arousal. You could only take a big gulp before your dirty fantasies about the boy you tutored that you kept locked away spilled out of your mouth for the world to hear.
“I think about you sliding a hand up my skirt in the library. Telling me to be quiet. I want to kiss you until I can’t feel my lips. I want to see you without a shirt on. I think about you pulling my hair back to look at you while you f-“ Your mortification overtook your entire body and you collapsed before you could finish your sentence with a yelp. Fred took a hold of you before you could hit the wall, making sure to take a long look at you. His face still had the cocky smile that you’d grown to love. His strong arm that was wrapped supportively around your waist and got tighter as he tried to figure out his next question. Your squirming didn’t help and you had no choice but to be stuck in his investigation.
“Are you thinking about it right now?” Fred’s eyes flitted from your eyes to your lips and if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest, you would’ve had half the mind to kiss him.
“Yes,” You practically slurred, unable to calm down from the situation unfolding before you. Fred ran a comforting hand up and down your back, soothing your nerves only slightly.
“Do you want to go up to my room to show me some of these fantasies?” Fred said blatantly. Of course you did and of course you let him know.
“Yes but,” You took a large inhale trying to ease your racing heart. “But what about Angelina?”
“I don’t want her. I want you,” Fred said definitively, sending a chill down your back. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to pressure you into anything just because you don’t have control of your thoughts right now.”
“I want you, Fred,” You said with a confidence that surprised even you. The words were genuine, the feeling of being puppeted by your mouth was gone. As you focused on Fred’s words and realized what he was proposing, you felt a simmering heat between your thighs and that you had been rubbing your thighs together to cause a reliving friction between them. But the clarity brought another realization. “You… you don’t even like me. I’m. I’m not going to be one of your conquests or whatever.”
“Gods, really are clueless are you?” Fred laughed at your out-of-character quip. He used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. “Did you really think I was spending all this time in the library thinking about Potions? Why the hell would I take N.E.W.T-level Potions if I was bad at it? I just had to pretend enough for you to keep studying with me.”
Fred’s confession stunned you silent. Without second thought, you wrapped your arms around Fred’s neck and leaned forward to meet his lips with yours. He gave an amused noise, kissing you back gladly. The kiss was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You were fulfilling a need you didn’t know you had, pressing deeper and deeper into the redhead’s mouth. Fred skillfully nipped at your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth when you moaned at the unfamiliar feeling. You were a little intimidated by his knowledge and your lack thereof, but the hand he was rubbing on your waist made you forget about anything besides him. He started to move a hand towards your chest and smirked wildly when you whimpered because he pulled away.
“My room. Now,” Fred said breathlessly, practically dragging you up the stairs. He hastily cast a locking and silencing charm before pushing you on the bed. Fred hovered over you, obviously delighted by your misshapen appearance. He had you pinned to the bed with one leg between your thigh and his arms at either side of your head.
The burning in your stomach only grew and Fred continued to kiss you, tasting every bit of you. He snaked a hand up your shirt, palming you through the fabric of your bra. When you least suspected it, he pulled the fabric down, pinching your firmed nipple in between his forefinger and thumb. The sensation made you moan loudly into his kisses and buck your hips up on his thigh.
“That’s a good girl,” Fred purred, continuing to flex his fingers around your breast. “Stop me if you want at any moment.”
“Take off your clothes,” Your voice was so whiny with need that you hardly recognized it. Fred only chuckled and moved his hand away from your chest to start removing your clothes instead of his. You batted his hand away and ran your fingers down his broad chest. You slowly undid his buttons, shaking from nervousness and exhilaration. Every button revealed more of his tanned muscular body that made your mouth watered. Fred continued supporting himself over you, enjoying your desperation.
When you finally managed to shed his shirt, you could barely focus. Your eyes trailed down his chest to the trail of hair on his stomach that pointed directly to the tension in his pants.
“I… I don’t know what to do,” You admitted to Fred, tangling your hands in his hair nervously.
“It’s okay. I think it’s time for me to teach you something to thank you for the last few years,” Fred said cockily, amazing you at how he stayed the same while you were falling apart under his touch. He quickly removed your clothes, tossing them somewhere in the middle of the room.
You felt vulnerable laying there in only your underwear, but Fred dragged his Quidditch-calloused hands down your body as he planted reassuring kisses on your mouth. His mouth followed his hand down until his lips were biting at the sensitive skin of your neck and his hand was rubbing circles on the soft skin of your inner thigh. You moved your hips down to meet his hand pleadingly and he took pity on you.
Fred moved his hands up to feel your arousal, circling his finger just around the bundle of nerves that begged to be touched. He knew exactly what he was doing and held your hips down with his free hand when you let out a whining groan. After teasing you, Fred slipped your underwear to the side, dragging his middle finger up your slick.
“Just how long have you been fantasizing about me?” Fred joked, breathing in as you moaned. He was barely making any movements and he had you reacting like this. Fred dragged his finger back and forth a few times before slowly pressing his middle finger into you, making sure to look up at you in order to spot any discomfort. You squirmed a little at the feeling, but once Fred started curling his finger, your body relaxed around the pleasure.
“More,” Your head sunk into Fred’s bed as your body grew accustomed to the feeling. Fred audibly smirked as he slipped his ring finger in as well, kissing you deeply. You realized his pants were still on and his fingers were speeding up from impatience. You reached down tenderly, running your fingers gently over the tent in his pants. He let out an airy breath before breaking the kiss to look at you.
“Feel it,” Fred encouraged you. His working fingers paused as he directed your hand with his free hand to his pants. Fred placed his hands on top of yours, simulating a squeeze. You copied his movement, earning a low groan from him. “Fuck… I need you right now.”
You shed your undergarments as Fred fumbled with his belt, too overtaken with lust to focus on unclipping the buckle. He finally released the leather binding and dropped his pants quickly, letting his cock fall as well. You watched with big eyes and Fred took your hand again to wrap it around his base.
“Just like that,” Fred praised as you moved your hand up and down. The friction was uncomfortable for you, so you pulled your hand back to lick a stripe up your palm and return it to his cock. The action made Fred roll his eyes back into his head and let his head drop as you continued to pump your hand up and down. “You’re so good, baby.”
Fred’s praise only made you want him more and the wanting in between your thighs got to be unbearable. As Fred was closing his eyes in bliss, you sneakily reached a hand down towards your folds to mimic his earlier actions in an attempt to ease the pressure. Fred felt you moving and quickly opened his eyes, catching you in the act. He tsked and removed your hand, pinning it by your head.
“Impatient are we, love?” Fred chuckled, sending vibrations through your stomach.
“Please,” You begged. “I want to feel you.”
Fred was impatient as you were and shifted his weight back to line himself up with your entrance. You were filled with such an excitement and nervousness that you subdued by reaching up for a kiss. Fred dragged the head of his cock against your slick folds, almost as if he was waiting for permissions.
“Fred. Fuck me,” You drawled, dizzy from anticipation. Fred let out a string of curses, then entered with a slow thrust. You let out a cry at the satisfying pain of feeling your walls stretch around Fred. He checked in again with you to make sure you were comfortable and you gave him a kiss on the cheek for assurance.
“You feel so amazing,” You slurred, eyes shutting from the pleasure. Fred slowly rolled his hips against yours, intertwining his hands with yours. He still had your hand pinned against your head and he was starting to lean forward, delivering soft grunts to your ear.
“You’re so… tight,” Fred mused aloud. You bucked your hips up to meet the friction the penetration was creating and Fred took that as a sign to go faster. He picked up his rhythm that made you sing a chorus of moans that melted into his name. Fred let curses fall out of his mouth and he picked up the speed of his thrusts, fully fucking you into the bed. Your cries only encouraged him.
Fred planted his lips on yours, creating a messy and heavy kiss that dripped with want. You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging whenever he would move to a certain spot that made your vision blur. A knotted feeling built up in your stomach like you never felt before.
“Fred… I- I’m-'' Fred understood what you were trying to get at and dropped a hand to your clit, rubbing soft circles that only tightened your stomach. With a cry, you broke from his interlocked hand and wrapped your arms around him as you nipped at his shoulder from the immense wave that washed over you. Fred laughed with such confidence it brought you back to life as he slowed down his thrusts.
“I’m almost there. Do you want me to keep going?” Fred panted, brushing a hair out of your face and kissing you on the forehead.
“Yes, please,” You relaxed back, feeling absolutely crazed. Fred dropped his head again and you reached up to trail kisses down his neck. “You fuck me so well, Fred.”
Your praise sent Fred over the edge and he unsheathed himself with a groan, spilling himself on your stomach. Fred collapsed beside you with a heave, then moved quickly to help clean you off. He climbed back into bed with you, pulling you close with a kiss.
“Telling the truth pays off, huh?”
“That, or Potions class.”
#fred weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley smut#fred weasley fic#veritaserum#shameless smut#fic braindump tbh i needed to write#i’m sorry if the formatting is weird i’m on my phone#i chose some random pic as the header sorry it’s a deep fried pic of shots lol
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What We Could Be - [Mack X David]
A/N: I know today is supposed to be an off day but I hope you don't mind if I drop a lil AU treat for ya! These two are about to boil over... And lucky us getting to see it all unfold 😈 Happy Friday!
Word Count: 2.4k
Tucked inside Connor and Lucie’s bathroom, Mackenzie Hischier attempts to collect herself. The water runs ice cold from the faucet, hurting her hands as she puts them through the stream. She gulps down, not quite understand why she is panting. Everything about tonight was supposed to be innocent, but once David put his hand on the small of her back to encourage her into the elevator, the tone shifted. His touch ignited a burning hot wild fire in her core that exploded, consuming everything.
They all ate together at McDonald’s. David helped keep Stella in line when Mack refused to let her play in the germ-infested play place. He went and charmed the counter worker for another pack of BBQ sauce after Stella dumped hers on the ground accidentally. He even got down on that dirty floor and cleaned up the mess, even though Mack insisted she could do it.
“You’re too beautiful to be cleanin’” He winked at her.
“Am I beautiful, Davey!?” Stella asked, patting his arm. He chuckled, that stupid, sweet noise that makes it hard for Mack to breathe, and told Stella she was as beautiful as the sunset on his farm in Iowa.
Again, Mack felt the shift of the world beneath her feet.
The quick walk back to the apartment was filled with Stella insisting on David AND Mack swinging her up every few steps. She squealed and laughed, bringing out a huge grin on David’s face.
“Stell, you’re my favorite little Ranger. Tell the others.” He insisted as he picked her up, maneuvering around a puddle she couldn’t find the courage to walk around.
“You spoil her.” Mack scoffed lightly, shaking her head, but with a small smile on her face.
“Could spoil you too.” He winked as he walked into the apartment building. Mack closed her eyes, assaulted by the wind blowing his piney and fresh cologne into her face. She sighed, then followed behind the two.
“Davey, we are gonna watch Up, yeah!?”
“Well….” He trailed off, looking at Mack. “Sweets, as much as I would love that, it’s not really my night with you. It’s your aunties. I don’t want to take up all your time together.” Stella whipped her head at Mack.
“Auntie, please! Please! Please! Please!” Her bottom lip jutted out, then David did the same exaggerated pout at her. Mack’s dimples hurt from how hard she smiled back at them.
How was she supposed to say no to them?
The rest of the night, Mack felt like a teenager. She made the three of them popcorn. The two adults had settled in on the couch before Stella bopped between them. David laid his arm across the back of the couch. Every so often, his fingers would brush her shoulder, testing the waters until eventually, they just stayed. From there, his fingers rolled along to the back of her neck where he started rubbing soft circles into her skin. As Stella was falling asleep with her feet in David’s lap and her head on Mack’s thigh, Mack was melting into David’s touch.
“She’s asleep.” David said to Mack, jolting her out where she was overthinking the night.
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. She sat up, away from his touch, but his fingers followed, gliding the backs of his knuckles over her spine. “I guess you can leave now.” Mack turned more to the left so his fingers drop off her back and instead fell next to her, behind Stella’s head on her thigh.
“I guess I can.” He nodded, then looked down at Stella. “Should I take her to bed?”
“Um, yeah. That would be great. I’m just going to use the bathroom.”
That cold water Mack was hoping to calm her down quickly lost it’s effect. She tries again, putting her wet palms on either side of her neck. She closes her eyes, inhaling deeply, then exhaling just as hard.
“You’re fine. Stop being so… caught up.” She mutters to her reflection. Annoyance at herself pulls her eyebrows down over her brown eyes. She wipes her hands half-heartedly on the hand towel, then rips the door open. She expects to see David waiting for her in the hallway. But it’s empty. The whole apartment is quiet, except for the light wind of Stella’s air purifier that David must have turned on for her.
Slowly, Mack creeps down the hallway, feeling the need to tip toe to not disturb the silence. Anticipating has pins piercing into her scalp. She comes to the main area and sees David standing, looking out the window with his back to her. She stops by the couch, staring at the back of his wide shoulders. Her fingers graze the leather as a holding spot. He turns, seeing her in the glass in front of him. Their eyes meet. Lust burns between them like a welcomed friend. Mack’s hands ball into fists by her hips. David cocks a “Whats it gonna be” eyebrow at her.
“Ugh.” She groans then rushes forward, collapsing fully into her lust. David grins, catching her effortlessly in his strong, farm arms. Her legs wrap around him, tightening her to his abdomen.
“Knew you couldn’t resist me, honey.” He whispers, then shoves his tongue into her mouth.
A hot and heavy make out session consumes them both. The temperature between their bodies sky rockets. Mack pants, licking his tongue as he walks them to the couch. He sits down on it, bringing her into his lap. She puts her hands on either side of his neck, tilting her face to get more of his mouth on hers. Thing tongues fight for control and possession of each other’s mouthes until they need air.
“Fuck.” She moans as he kisses along her jaw.
“I need an answer. Are we doing this?” He mumbles. Mack shudders at the feeling of his facial hair tickling in the crook on her shoulder and neck. Between her thighs, she can feel his huge bulge pushing into her soaked heat.
“Mmmm…” She inhales deeply, then arches her breasts into his chin. He pulls away, laughing at her blissed out look above him.
“Is that a yes?”
“Just kiss me.” Mack mumbles, gripping his face again with both hands. She rises a bit on her knees, shoving her tongue until it is practically down his throat. David’s hands move from her hips to her ass. He presses her into his erection. Mack gasps.
“You feel that baby? Been hard for you all week. Fucked my hand thinking of you the other night.” His intimate confession has a loud moan pushing from Mack’s mouth. He rolls her over his clothed cock again and Mack can feel the coil tighten inside her. He rolls her hips slower this time, torturous, over and over again as they make out like their 16 years olds, dry humping on her parents’ couch. Mack shudders, widening her thighs for him to press him deeper into her clit. “Show me how bad you want this cock in your wet pussy. Can feel how wet you are, honey. Need to feel you soon. Not gonna live if I don’t.”
Mack does as he asks, taking control of her hips back from him. She unabashedly rocks into his thick cock, annoyed by the fabric of her leggings covering her desperate heat. David moves a hand to her stomach and lower back, pushing her up so he can get his hand under her shirt. He grips her breast over her bra, then folds the cup down, thumbing her nipple. Mack could come right there. Her head falls back, Then she gasps in surprise when he stills.
“What the-”
“Shhhh.” Davey coos. “I can hear Lucie’s laugh.” Mack pauses, hearing it too now.
“Fuck.” She mutters, falling off David onto the leather couch. She adjusts her shirt, then looks at him with unsure eyes. He stands, a massive erection extending the zipper on his jeans. She bites her lip, staring at it, then drags her gaze up to meet his with wide eyes. He grins back at her, seeing the curiosity and need shining in her brown orbs.
“Sorry to leave you alone but I’ve gotta take care of this in the bathroom.” He calmly walks down to the bathroom. Mack smoothes out her hair, then wipes her face off with the back of her hand. She can feel the scratchy irritation from his mustache rubbing against her skin.
The apartment door bursts open and Mack’s anxiety eases. From her place on the couch, she can see the glassy eyes of her sister and brother-in-law. Their loaded with alcohol and likely won’t be asking too many questions.
“Mackie!!!!!” Lucie wails loudly. Mack cringes, glancing towards the hallway. Hopefully Stella stays asleep. Lucie stumbles towards her, then collapses onto Mack, pinning her into the couch. Mack’s heart pounds in her chest with how close Lucie looks at her face. “How was she?” Lucie asks, eyes slightly downturned, breath reeking of whiskey.
“A true angel.”
“Good.” Lucie mumbles, drunk smile on her lips. She looks down at Mack’s neck, eyebrows furrowing. “Whass dat?” She strokes a spot Mack can remember David’s teeth nibbling on moments ago.
“I scratched myself.” Mack says dumbly. Drunk Lucie doesn’t seem to notice.
“Mmm gotta be careful.” Lucie murmurs, putting her head on Mack’s chest. Connor comes to sit on the couch by their feet. Him and Mack make eye contract. He looks slightly more sober, but not much.
“Leave.” He mouths at Mack. She purses her lips against a laugh. “Now.” He continues, then jerks his thumb towards the door. Mack looks down at Lucie, seeing her eyes closed as she sighs. Yeah, Mack should go. Connor has about ten minutes left of his wife before his chances of getting laid close. Mack moves to get up, but Lucie squishes her back down.
“No! We never snuggle anymore! Wanna snuggle with you.” Mack cringes at Connor. She is saved from further commentary by David coming out of the bathroom. Both Lucie and Connor turn towards the hallway. Neither of them expect David.
“Hi mom and dad.” Mack glances down at his crotch, not seeing the huge problem that had gone into the bathroom with him. The thought of him touching himself to her has her getting hot again. She bites her lip when their eyes meet. Connor’s nose scrunches and he glances over at the two Hischier women.
“Ohhhhh! I forgot to tell you Mack was watching Stell!” Lucie starts to laugh. “Well at least you two didn’t kill each other in front of our daughter.”
“We thought about it tho.” Davey smiles, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Dude you didn’t have to stay. You could have left and did something else with your night.” Connor says around a yawn.
“Mack insisted I stay.” David says. Both Connor and Lucie laugh in disbelief. Mack gives him a nervous look. He throws her a minuscule wink, one neither of the drunkies in the room see.
“No. More like Stella dragged him in here.” Mack responds, cupping her neck where she can feel her neck pulsing under his bite mark.
“Please give my condolences to Lio for moving out of favorite uncle status.” David laughs as he walks to where his jacket and shoes were tossed earlier.
“He would die.” Lucie murmurs, snuggling into Mack, cute little yawn stretching her lips “Thanks, Davey.”
“Anytime, Luc.” He smiles. “You all have a good night.” He seemingly addresses the whole room, but his eyes stay on Mack.
Mack wants to follow him. She wants to run down the floors of this building until she gets to his with him, so she can peel away the layers of clothing between them and find out once and for all how it would feel to be touched by him. Instead, her older sister mumbles to her.
“Wanna watch Lion King?” It’s the most nostalgic movie for them.
“Sure.” Mack answers. Connor sighs dramatically. He broke up her fun; it’s only fair to return the favor.
“I’m going to bed.” He mumbles, patting Lucie’s ass. “Goodnight girls.” He calls lamely over his shoulder.
It takes five minutes before Lucie falls asleep. Mack is up the entire time, even after the final credits roll. The Disney logo bounces around the screen as she replays the night in her mind like it’s her new favorite movie. She bites her lip, then rolls onto her side.
Lucie had sat up long ago, curling into the other side of the couch, still fully clothed in her date night outfit, including her high heeled boots. Mack isn’t surprised to see Connor shuffle sleepily out, scooping her up and disappearing back down the hall. He hates sleeping without her. Mack smiles softly, watching as he cradles her close to him, then whispers another goodnight to Mack after verifying she is staying over. She nods to him. It’s too late for her to go home now.
Mack is about to fall asleep when her phone illuminates in the dark room. She reaches for it, squinting at the bright screen as she reads. Every cell in her body stands to attention when she reads:
No more messing around, Mackncheese. I’m done being nice. You better give me an answer soon.
That a threat? Mack types back
Yeah.
What if my answer is no?
You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what we could have been. Mack smiles at that. He should come off as so arrogant. Admittedly he would have a few weeks ago, yet he has a steady confidence she has secretly yearned for in a man.
And if my answer is yes? Her heart pounds as she watches his reply bubble pop up.
I’ll ruin you for anyone else.
Mack moans, covering her face with her hand. Then she peeps through her fingers so she can re-read his message. Her heartbeat swooshes in her ears, thinking about what she felt on the couch earlier. The all consuming desire that she didn’t even hesitate running full tilt towards. Lustfully, she wants to throw her caution to the wind. But deep in her gut, a terror runs free, whispering that he is too dangerous, too much for her. The things she feels for him are so strong. They have swayed abruptly from contempt to yearning. She can’t trust these feelings. It isn’t safe.
Mack puts her phone down, laying her head back down on the pillow with a heavy sigh. She wraps her arms around herself, staring at the ceiling while gripping the sleeves of her sweatshirt.
Hold or leap?
It seems so simple.
Yet Mack can’t help but feel like she’s choosing for the rest of her life.
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Man Falls Off Bluff at Fall Creek Falls State Park
Late Saturday morning, the Piney Volunteer Fire Department was dispatched to Fall Creek Falls State Park for someone who fell over a bluff at Rocky Point Overlook off the Woodland Trail. Park rangers were able to locate the man. The patient was awake but injured.
Dunlap Fire Department was requested as mutual aid. Fall Creek Falls Fire Department, Van Buren County EMS, and Van Buren County…
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#Dunlap News#Fall Creek Falls#Marion County News#Piney Volunteer Fire Department#Rescue#Sequatchie County News#Sequatchie Valley News#Van Buren County
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Switchback Brewing Company, Harpoon Brewery, and Long Trail Brewing Co celebrate Employee Ownership with the release of ESOP ESB.
Press Release
To celebrate Employee Ownership Month, local Vermont employee-owned breweries (ESOPs) Switchback Brewing Company, Harpoon Brewery, and Long Trail Brewing Co. collaborated on a limited-edition draft only beer: ESOP ESB.
ESB is an Extra Special Bitter English Style Pale Ale. It is a hoppy dark amber ale brewed with a traditional dark malt profile and new American hops.
“We met back in early August to discuss making a beer that was sessionable and approachable,” said Switchback brewer Morgan Capron. “We wanted to capture the feeling of Vermont in fall with the elements of brewing that make our ESOP breweries great.”
With this collaboratively designed recipe in hand, each brewery put a unique spin on the brew by using proprietary ingredients – so while there are minor differences in the brews, the result is a piney, medium bodied ESB that is super drinkable and refreshing.
In February 2017, at Switchback Brewing Company’s annual meeting, owner and Brewmaster, Bill Cherry, announced to the brewery’s 30 employees that they had become partners in ownership of the 14-year-old company. They are the first 100% employee-owned brewery in New England.
“We were thrilled to be able to make this collaboration happen with a fellow employee-owned brewery,” said Harpoon brewer Dan Lipke. “Being employee owned is something we are very proud of, so this is the perfect beer to celebrate all of the hard work that goes into employee ownership.”
Mass. Bay Brewing Company – parent company to Harpoon Brewery and as of 2022, Long Trail Brewing Company - established their Employee Stock Ownership Plan (ESOP) in 2014. CEO Dan Kenary gathered the company together for a special meeting in the Harpoon Beer Hall in Boston, where he asked everyone in the room to turn to the person next to them and shake their hand and congratulate each other for now being the owners of the Harpoon Brewery.
ESOP ESB is available exclusively on tap at Switchback Brewing Company in Burlington, VT, Harpoon Brewery Taproom & Beer Garden in Windsor, VT, and the Long Trail Brewery in Bridgewater Corners, VT while supplies last.
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About Switchback Brewing Company
Switchback Brewing Company was founded in 2002 by Master Brewer, Bill Cherry. To maximize complexity and flavor, the beer is left unfiltered and carbonated during fermentation by the yeast itself, creating a 100% naturally conditioned beer. In 2017, Switchback Brewing Co. officially became the first 100% employee-owned brewery in New England via an Employee Stock Ownership Plan (ESOP), keeping the brewery locally owned and operated at its original home in Burlington, VT. Switchback beers are distributed throughout Vermont, New England plus parts of New York and Virginia.
About Mass. Bay Brewing Company
The Harpoon Brewery was founded in 1986 by beer lovers who wanted more and better beer options. When the Brewery was founded, Harpoon was issued Brewing Permit #001 by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, since it was the first to brew commercially in Boston after a dormant period of about 25 years. Since then, it has expanded to a second brewery in Windsor, VT. Harpoon’s line of craft beer features its award-winning IPA and seasonal beers, along with special limited releases. In 2014, Harpoon became an employee-owned company.
#Switchback Brewing Company#Harpoon Brewery#Mass Brewing Company#Long Trail Brewing#Press Release#Vermont#VT#Beer#Craft Beer
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Who wants to go on a hiking adventure with me?
https://youtu.be/KtuXk2tK5M8
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The Phone Call
Where Y/N receives her role acceptance call...and Harry does too?
wordcount: 614
[masterlist]
"But Pineapple on pizza is good!" You laughed at Harry as he tediously removes the pineapples on his pizza.
"No it isn't! This might be the reason why we break up." He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
"Fine. I wouldn't want to name my kid Pineapple with a man who don't like pineapples on pizza."
"Pineapple?! For a baby name?"
"What's wrong with that!" It was a ridiculous name but bantering with Harry was one of your favourite conversations.
"So what we'd nickname her Piney? Sounds like a porno name." He stuck his tounge out in disgusting while you cackled.
"Hey! Who said it'd be our child? And what is it with you and porno!"
"It does sound like a porno name-Gemma, does Piney sound like a porno name?"
"What is wrong with the both of you?" Gemma's eyebrows furrows in confusion.
You and Harry looked at each other for a second before busting out in splutters of laughter. Your wheezing sessions was interrupted with the ringing of your phone. You stood up from Harry's lap, narrowing your eyes at him mouthing 'stay there' when you saw the cheeky glint in his eyes.
"Ms. Y/L/N?"
"This is she."
You suddenly jumped, when you felt a large hand on the inner of you thigh, pulling you back to the couch. You covered the speaker of your phone gently pushing Harry's face away as he was trailing faint kissed on your covered pants.
He then harshly tugged back on the couch, landing on Harry's lap-you assumed-as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"This is (Director Name), from Marvel Studios, we are happy to inform you that you got the role."
A/N: I AM SO SORRY IDK HOW THEY WOULD TELL YOU THIS
"Holy Shit! I mean um-Oh my god, Thank you so much! I-" Your enthusiasm was rudely interrupted with you boyfriend rubbing his nose at your cheek, with a tiny smile in his face.
"It's no problem, you would be getting a text from our team with the details about this, welcome to the family miss y/l/n."
"Okay, wow thank you so much again." the line went dead after that. You dripped your phone involuntarily making a small thud on the couch.
Harry lifted his face from the crook of your neck taking sight of your expression, "What's wrong?"
"Harry."
"Y/N."
"HARRY OH MY GOD." you looked at him with wide eyes.
"What?" He chuckled pressing a tiny kiss on the tip of your nose.
"I got the role!" You flew out of his lap, jumping up and down.
A big smile apperead on his face as he tugged on your hand, making you fall on the couch. He quickly hovered over you, kissing you all over your face. You were a giggling mess, as Harry pulled back with puckered lips signaling for to kiss him.
You poked your finger on his lips, "What's this?"
"Kissy."
"Nope."
"Please?"
"Okay."
You kissed him passionately on his lips, tangling your hands on his hair. While his thumb roamed mindlessly on your face. The both of you broke apart, with a kissing sound.
"I'm so proud of you." He whispered nuzzling his face on the curve of your neck
"Thank you." You whispered back.
"Guess who'd be your co-star though."
"Hm?" you hummed mind still hazy from the affection he's been giving you.
"I got the role too."
~
That night, you heard a 'ping', you saw that Gemma posted a story.
You clicked on the story and saw it was you and Harry while you were on the phone call. With captioned "Y/N cheated on me. 💔😠"
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#marvel#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#one direction#one direction fanfiction#liam payne#harry styles x reader#louis tomilson#zayn malik#niall horan#blubbers#myasshurts
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Fancy Soaps || Farkas x Reader || NSFW
Pairing: Farkas x Fem!Reader
Words: 3193
Wandering the geysers and springs of Eastmarch, your feet are blistered and your legs ache. You've been traveling for weeks. You stopped in Whiterun for only a day before setting out on your next mission. Life is restless as Harbinger of the Companions. It gives you purpose and you take pride in your position, but there are days when you'd rather be sprawled across your bed in Breezehome letting Lydia deal with your troubles.
The redeeming part of it all is Farkas.
The two of you have been a team for months. It has become an unspoken rule that when one of you takes a job, the other will be along to help. In this time, Farkas has become your closest friend.
There are few boundaries left between the two of you. Your comfort grew quickly, and after an assassination attempt while you were getting changed the two of you decided to stick closer to each other's sides. You began bathing together - never looking at each other, but always in close proximity. If anything happened, you'd be right there.
It began in dead silence - washing yourselves with an uneasy tension hanging in the air. After a few times, it began to change. You'd find yourselves chatting and laughing like any other time. When you inevitably caught glimpses of each other's bodies, your faces would flush but nothing would feel amiss.
These days, you're comfortable being naked around each other. You're used to the sight of his body, even if it makes your mind wander and a heat brew between your legs. You're well acquainted with his broad chest and the dark hair that hides pale scars. You're familiar with the contours of his muscles - his defined abs and chiseled legs. And you'd say you're unbothered by his toned ass and perfect cock but that would, of course, be an absolute fucking lie.
You found a section of land and hot springs hidden away from the others. Obscured by a spattering of barely-leaved trees and rocky outcroppings, it's the perfect place for you and Farkas to set up camp and grab a bath. He's already shedding his armor. You're digging in your bag for a collection of very special items.
When you were last in Solitude you stopped by a beauty store. It sold cosmetics, lotions, soaps and shampoos - all beautifully scented, and many crafted with magical properties. You couldn't walk away from a chance to pamper yourself on the road and scooped up the most tempting products. This seems like the perfect time to put them to use.
You strip, leaving your clothes and armor in a heap by your bag. You take the bottles and eagerly carry them with you, along with a tankard to aid with washing. The dirt is rough on your bare feet but you pay it little mind.
Farkas is reclining in the steaming blue-green water, staring out at the horizon. The first hints of twilight linger at the edge of the sky, peeking between the rolling mountains.
You sit at the water's edge and dip in your toes. The heat from the water eases the lingering pain.
"Hey, Farkas... Remember that soap shop?" You ask, struggling to choke back an impish tone.
"I try not to," He replies with a gruff chuckle.
"That's the one." You smile. "What would you say if I picked up a couple things?"
"You didn't..."
"Guilty."
"Why?"
"Easy. I thought we deserved a chance to pamper ourselves." You reply.
"Don't see much of a need to." He shrugs. "Water's always treated me just fine. Some soap when I need it."
You fight a grimace. "A deep clean isn't gonna hurt you."
He glances upwards and eyes the collection of items suspiciously.
"Are they enchanted?" Farkas asks.
"Sorta." You smile, picking up the shampoo you bought for him. "This one smells like evergreens. It's said to 'enhance physical relaxation'. And we've got a bottle of body wash to split. Elves ear, mint and honey. It's supposed to remedy wounds, soften skin, and leave you feeling uh..." You glance at the fine print handwritten on the label. "Wonderfully Revitalized."
He stifles a laugh. There's a sparkle in his pale eyes when he smiles. "I think I'm all set."
Your lips twist into a pout. You're deflating, but you're not willing to give up yet.
"Just let me wash your hair. If you're not relaxed by the end of it, I won't make you suffer though this ever again." You say, popping open the bottle and holding it out for him to sniff.
He takes a whiff and pauses. After silently weighing options he replies, "Alright. For you."
You sit on the ground behind Farkas, legs dangling into the water. He sits in front of you, leaning against your shins with his head tilted back, waiting for you to begin.
You fill the tankard with water and pour it along his hairline. It runs slick off the grease. Frowning, you repeat the action. You run your hands through his locks, encouraging the liquid deeper.
Once they're properly saturated you pour the shampoo into your hands. It smells of fresh cut wood and pine and its translucent amber color is reminiscent of tree sap.
You lather it into his hair. As your fingertips massage his scalp, he sighs. The bubbles begin to froth beneath your hands. You massage the skin and comb through his hair. He relaxes into your touch.
The soap trails down his neck. Slowly, his shoulders sink. His eyes close and his face softens.
Satisfied with your work, you take the tankard and refill it with the warm water. You use it to wash away the shampoo. The suds run down your legs and you feel the ache in your calves begin to soften.
You use your fingers to work out the last of the soap and squeeze the excess water from his hair.
Finally complete, you lean back.
"So, how was it?" You ask.
Hesitantly, he sits back up. He blinks away the beginnings of sleep in his eyes and his lips curl into a smile. "That was... Nice... Is there enough for you?"
"I bought a juniper one. The lady said it would go nice with the soap. It's for 'relaxation and grounding'." You take the bottle and open it for a sniff. It's piney with a hint of peppery spice lingering in the background.
"Hand it over." Farkas says.
"Wait, really?"
"Sure. Give me the bottle and get in."
You do as he says, slipping into the water and sitting cross legged in front of him. As the heat soaks into your bones, you feel your muscles loosen. The tension begins to melt away.
Farkas kneels behind you, and you lean your head back in preparation.
He pours the warm water over your hairline, allowing it to run down into your locks. He repeats the motion, soaking your hair until it clings to your neck. You close your eyes and relax into the sensation of the water rolling down your back.
He pauses to ready the shampoo.
He slathers the cool mixture on top of your head and begins to work it in with calloused fingers. He massages along your forehead and down to your temples, then up toward your crown. He slips his hands beneath your hair to the base of your neck, where salt and sweat cling. Bubbles rise with his work. The sweet evergreen spice of the juniper is more pronounced.
The concoction's effects are swift, and soothe your weary muscles. The tension eases out of your worn body. You become aware of the areas in which it lingers. You roll your shoulders and massage your thighs with your knuckles to dispel it. With the aid of the near-potion, it's quickly whisked away.
He lathers your hair, taking the time to scrub away the weeks of grease and grime coating it. It's far too rare that you get to properly clean it like this. Shampoo is a rarity on the road, let alone any kind good. What you're experiencing here in this hot spring is a luxury like no other, you're sure of it.
You're jolted from your thoughts by something brushing against your back.
You jump.
Farkas laughs.
"Get a little lost?" He asks, stroking your hair and soothing your racing heart. "That was just me."
A hand on your shoulder eases you back into comfort.
"Don't move." He instructs.
The water behind you is disturbed as he turns around. You hear another cork pop - the body wash. There's the rubbing of palms, and two firm hands on your back. They move in circles. The minty cool suds linger on your skin. The faint herbal smell of the elves ear lingers with the sweet of the honey.
"You've needed to relax for a while, huh?" He asks, thumbs working the muscles of your shoulder blades.
"I barely remember what that word means." You sink into his touch. A soft sigh leaves your parted lips.
"That makes two of us." He brings the soap up toward your neck and kneads the tightness. "Let's see if we can figure it out."
A moan escapes you as he hits a tender spot.
With the aid of the soap, your aches begin to find relief. A small gash on your side seems to mend beneath the runoff.
His hands travel down to your biceps. They rub the tender skin. Your cuts and bruises patch themselves under his palms.
He pauses for another handful of body wash, and you feel him circle in front of you. He casts a shadow through your eyelids that reminds you of his presence.
His fingertips tuck the stray hairs clinging to your forehead behind your ear. Your lips curl into a smile.
The backs of his knuckles trail down your cheek, along your jawline and linger under your chin. He tilts your head upward.
You feel breath hot against your lips.
Your eyes flutter open.
Farkas is close - his piercing silver eyes bearing down on you and lighting a fire in your gut.
"Close your eyes," he says with a low rasp, "I'm not done yet."
With flushed cheeks, you let your eyelids fall shut.
His fingers trail down your throat and along your collarbone. They brush along your chest, wiping away the dust of the road and steadily dipping lower.
You take an uneven breath. Steeling yourself, you lean back, displaying your chest for the pleasure of his wandering hands. They slide down and palm your breasts. He runs his thumb briskly across your nipple, your skin slick from the soap. You bite back a moan.
He repeats the motion, pressing firmer. Your nipple is pert under his touch. A new tension begins to grow between your legs.
"Farkas..." You whimper, nearly startled by the sound of your own voice. In the dark - in the midst of the sensation - it sounds booming.
His hands slip to your ribs and guide you up onto your knees. "Follow my lead..." He instructs. He navigates you backwards and to the right, until you're in water that reveals your pussy. Small ripples lap against your thighs just inches below.
His soapy hands roam down your sides. They caress your thighs and move back to your ass. He takes a handful in his sizable grasp and groans. He squeezes it, admiring the supple flesh. You gasp as his other hand moves to your other cheek. Eager fingers exploring your body slip toward your anus, brushing the sensitive skin and sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
The ache grows stronger. You long for the ache of his touch on your cunt - of the feeling of his fingers rubbing against you.
"Please," you manage through a breath.
Curious hands slip forward. One lingers on your hip, massaging the tender area that makes you squirm. The other wanders to your pussy.
He ghosts his fingers along your outer labia. You quiver beneath his touch. You work to steady your breathing.
He slips a digit into your folds. It runs back and forth, hitching your breath, before inching slowly forward.
He gently caresses your clit. A surge of pleasure rolls through your body. He flicks it with a barely there touch. You try and press your hips down against him for more friction.
He pulls back.
You whine and needily rub your thighs together.
"Sit on the edge." He commands with a steely voice. It tightens the knot in your gut.
You open your eyes and are disoriented by the returning world. Colors seem vivid, though night rapidly approaches. Blackened pines tower around you, as does Farkas, looming above. He kneels in the water, with well muscled legs guiding your eyes up to his tapered hips. His cock stands proudly out of the water. It's the first time you've seen it erect, and it's above average length with imposing girth.
"Go on. Sit." He says, gentler.
You nod, and perch yourself on the ledge where the land meets the water. Stray dust from the ground clings to your ass. He pays it little mind as he pushes your legs apart.
On his knees he leans forward, peppering feather light kisses down your chest and belly. Stubble tickles your skin, sensitive and set alight from the teasing.
His hands hook behind your thighs and push you back lightly. He tilts your hips so your pussy his better on display. You prop yourself up on your elbows to observe the man between your legs.
Farkas has a hunger behind his eyes. His breathing is ragged as he leans down and takes your cunt in his hot mouth. An eager tongue runs along your slit. You press the back of your hand to your mouth in an attempt to silence a moan.
He turns his attention to your clit. He gives it a long lick, and a pause. Then, he repeats the motion. He draws out each movement until you're writhing in his grasp. He moans against your skin, burying his face into your pussy eagerly. Zealous, messy gestures shift to steady, purposeful circles.
Your thighs tighten around his head. His stubble is rough on the inside of your thighs, forcing your attention to remain on the man fervently working your desperate cunt. You tangle your fingers in his dark hair - locks soft to the touch.
He grunts. Water splashes as he thrusts his hips forward. He laps at your clit ravenously. His growls reverberate through the nerves. He leads you closer to the edge. The feeling winds into ball, tightening rapidly. His hands are unyielding on your thighs with fingertips threatening to bruise.
You reach your climax. Your moans echo into the night. Your legs wrap tight around his head, holding him close as you ride out your orgasm against his lips.
He slows his motions as you come down.
You release him from your legs and lower them to his sides, dangling your feet in the soothing water. The steam soothes goosebumps rising on your calves.
"Feeling more relaxed?" He chuckles, sitting back on his heels. He licks your fluids from his mouth.
"A bit," you reply in a dreamy haze, "but I think we still need to do something for you."
"I have an idea for that." He says. His hands behind your legs tighten and he pushes you onto your back. You yelp lightly as air escapes your lungs. He looms over you with a knee on the solid ground, and his other leg in the water. "All you gotta do is ask."
"Please," You spread your legs wider for him.
"Please what?" He asks, pushing you further back and better revealing your dripping wet cunt.
"Please fuck me," Your tone verges on pleading, "I need your cock."
"Since you've been a good girl..." His voice is low and gruff. He spits in his palm and rubs it on his cock, lubricating the length. He grumbles as his fingers roam his shaft. You tremble in anticipation.
His head rests at your entrance. Experimental hips thrust back and forth, grinding his tip against your waiting hole.
"I've been waiting so long for this," he sighs, slipping the head in slowly, "always imagined what this would feel like..."
You stretch as he enters you. It takes a moment to accommodate his girth. He groans, savoring the feeling of your walls around him.
"You're tight..." He says through a clenched jaw. With a thrust, he fills you to the hilt.
You squeeze softly with your pussy and elicit a growl from the man.
He rolls his hips, pelvis bucking against your clit as he grinds into you. His thick cock sends pleasure shooting through your hips. It crawls up your spine and curls your toes. Rivulets of water run from his hair down his chest, drawing your eyes to the sculpted contours of his muscles.
Smiling, your breaths turn to gasps. Soft mewls escape your lips despite yourself.
"So wet..." He mumbles. His pace grows faster. You hear the slick sound of his cock pounding into you above the lapping of the water with his motions.
"Farkas... You feel so good." Your palm clamps over your mouth to mute another needy moan. His cock rams against a sensitive spot. The pleasure could overwhelm you. You feel your pussy spasm around his length.
"Cum for me." He commands.
His words nearly tip you over the edge. Your dangling by a thread, with heaving breaths and hands desperately grasping at the soil.
"Cum for me."
The tension releases, and bliss overtakes you. His name escapes as a sob. Waves of pleasure course through you with each rock of his hips.
Your walls convulse.
His movements grow erratic.
At the sensation, and the sound of your wanton gasps, he cums. He utters an animalistic growl, nails digging into your thighs as your twitching cunt milks the hot seed from his cock. He rides his orgasm out, skin bucking against your sensitive clit. The feeling nearly brings you to another climax.
Panting, he releases your legs.
They fall unceremoniously into the water, sending droplets raining down upon your thighs and stomach alongside the excess drops of cum Farkas shakes from his cock.
The world begins to come back into focus. Above you is the sky, painted purple with the settling hues of night. Twinkling stars and marbled moons look down on you, as does Farkas. He stands in the water at your feet with a grin on his face.
"Relaxed." He repeats the word with satisfaction.
"Yeah..." You reply lazily. Thoughts begin to resurface in the still that has overtaken your brain. In the swirling medley you catch one detail: "You know, we still need to wash you."
He sighs and sits in the water, splashing down in defeat. "Is there gonna be any more of that?"
"Only if you'd like."
He chuckles. "If I have it my way you'll be moaning my name for the rest of the night."
You smile, a heat rekindled between your thighs. "Guess we better put that one to the test."
#farkas#the companions#skyrim#the elder scrolls#tesv#tes v skyrim#skyrim smut#x reader smut#x reader oneshot#smut oneshot#reader insert smut
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A Son’s Destiny Chapter 22 Preview
@titty-teetee
warnings: language, mentions of assault
It took a little while, but Lena finally made her way out of the dorm room. She took her time to head back into the clubhouse. She wasn’t in a rush to be surrounded by people. And just like she had suspected, it was still crowded with people. It wasn’t as crowded as it was before, as she knew that there were people milling around outside or had been escorted off property for whatever reason, but it was still a lot for her to handle.
Lena quickly spotted Lyla sitting in the corner of the bar all by herself. Feeling bad for the girl, Lena made her way over to her. “This seat taken?“
Lyla looked up from her untouched glass of water, giving Lena a shy smile. “It’s all yours.“
Lena returned the gesture, taking a seat next to the petite blonde. “Where are the kids?“
“Oh,“ Lyla cleared her throat nervously, “they’re hanging with Piney and Mary.“ She then looked back down at her glass, dejectedly. “Is it always like this?”
“Feeling a little overwhelmed?“ Lena asked, and Lyla nodded her head. “So am I. I’ve been on lockdowns before this,“ she swallowed thickly, “this is a first.“
“Ope wouldn’t tell me much, just that someone SAMCRO loved had gotten hurt.”
Lena felt her heart fall into the pit of her stomach. “Yeah,“ she muttered nervously. Although this whole thing was because of what happened to her, Lena wanted to not think of it anymore. She just kept telling herself that it was almost over soon. That she could finally put that horrible night behind her.
Jax had promised her.
“You okay?“ Lena heard Lyla ask, breaking her thoughts. “Kind of lost you there.“
Lena released a deep sigh. “Sorry about that.” She just really wanted to change the subject. “So, you and Ope, how’s that going?“
The pale apples of the porn star’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “It’s going really good.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere?”
Now it was Lyla’s turn to release a heavy sigh. “I’m really in love with Opie, but I always feel like I’d be living in her shadow for the rest of our lives.”
“Her, being Donna?” Lena questioned, and again Lyla nodded. This time in shame.
“Were you and Donna close?“
Lena nodded, accepting the cup of tea that had been placed in front of her by one of the croweaters. “At one point, we were best friends. She was my first real friend when I moved to Charming. I introduced her to Opie. They made me Ellie’s godmother. But then Ope got sent to Chino for five years and things were never the same after that. When she died, it hurt a lot of us. Her death was violent, and it changed Opie. But you don’t have to worry about living in her shadow, because if Opie is with you, it means he really cares about you. And that’s all that should matter.“ She then reached out to give Opie’s girlfriend’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Lyla gave Lena a smile in return.
Not a moment too soon, Jax, along with Opie and Juice made their way back into the clubhouse.
The feeling of relief, knowing that Jax was okay, made a home in Lena’s gut, as she watched her Old Man greet his patched brothers and their families before making his way over to her. Opie was following his trail.
Just as the tall biker greeted Lena with a kiss to the top of her head, he then made his way over to Lyla to plant one on her lips.
Lena then felt Jax gently wrap his arm around her neck, kissing her temple and lowering to whisper in her ear, “I need to talk to you.”
With Jax’s hand settled on her lower back, Lena excused herself from Lyla, as Jax escorted her back to his dorm.
“What’s going on, Jax?” Lena questioned the moment Jax shut the bedroom door.
Jax quickly peered down at his sleeping son, giving him a small smile. Then he looked back at Lena’s very confused —very concerned face. “We’re meeting up with Weston and his crew tonight.”
As soon as the words fell from his mouth, that relief in Lena’s gut turned to dread. She then folded her arms across her chest. “Meeting up?” And then it dawned on her. “Another street brawl?”
“Without the street.” Jax told her, and she went quiet. He just watched her for a few moments, as he saw every thought that passed through her mind.
Lena swallowed hard, looking directly back at Jax and muttered, “okay.”
“Okay?” Jax questioned for reassurance. He knew he didn’t need it, but wanted it from her.
Lena stepped closer to Jax, placing a hand on his kutte, right above the Vice President’s patch. “You kill that son of a bitch.”
Jax released a shuddering breath, hating to see pain in Lena’s eyes. He was desperate to make it all go away. But he just pulled her closer to press his mouth against hers in a heated kiss.
When Jax pulled back, he held Lena’s face in his large hands, looking deep into her beautiful brown eyes. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.”
TAGGED: @mrs-jax-teller @gemini0410 @notokay16 @notmysinsagain @rosey1981 @kiss-my-peachy-arse @queenoftheworldisdead @midnightheat @witching-hour @charmingsoa @toni9 @ughdontbeboring @csigeoblue @my-name-is-alice-ayers @colorfullydone @chcblndnrd75 @qveendiorsworld @fanaticnae @hogwartsstar
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not alone (flash fic)
A/N: as per usual this is far from my initial plan. after days of working on this but not making progress i finally decided to cut everything except for that one scene i really liked. it’s like in photography - never underestimate a good crop. so here you are, 700+ words of my oc griefing the death of her best friend. this is kinda part of a wip i am "working on"
@flashfictionfridayofficial, fff122, not alone
genre: drama
word count: 750
fandom: Sons of Anarchy
character(s): Allana Máiri Telford (fem!oc), Jackson “Jax” Teller, Juan Carlos “Juice” Ortiz (mentioned)
warnings: grief, i guess
Breathing hard, Allana hunches over and balances her hands on her knees. They had reached the first peak of the trail after nearly three hours and the rising sun over the californian desert doesn’t make it exactly more pleasant. She is thankful though, for everyone that decided to come with her today. Even if they don’t know why she had chosen that particular trail, they all know that getting your mind off the things at hand is much needed. For everyone. The death of a Son doesn’t pass easily.
After taking a few deep breaths she stands up again and drops her backpack. The hot wind helps dry her sweaty clothes and Allana is happy her top doesn’t stick to her back anymore. She takes out her water bottle and takes a big sip. But her hike is not over yet. She had been restless the past days, barely able to sleep at a reasonable time. This hike is for her as much as it is for Opie. In memoriam of who they had both once been.
“I’m headed over to the second peak, anyone wanna join?”
“I will.”
Allana is surprised at the looks the Sons shoot at each other after Jax agreed to follow her. No one else dares to speak up and accompany them afterwards and she shakes it off. No need to overthink this. With her foot she pushes her backpack through the dust over to Juice who had kneeled down to pet her dog Kaya.
“Get her out of the sun and have her drink some water, please.”
Allana watches Juice nod and with one last look around the ones who will stay back, and a nod to Juice, Allana turns and joins Jax. He is already waiting where the small trail parts the shrubbery. Not even twenty minutes later Allana and Jax arrive at the small platform forming the second peak. In the middle a big nearly flat stone performs a great opportunity to sit down and Allana wastes no time in doing so. When Jax joins her and sits beside Allana she feels the mood shift. Oh no. Her heart gets heavy and breathing is suddenly hard for a whole other reason than exhaustion. In a split second decision, Allana lays her head on Jax’ shoulder.
She thinks back to the reason she had chosen this hiking trail. She thinks back to the evening at his house when Opie had told her about the hiking and camping trips Piney and John had taken him and Jax. Allana remembers Opies eyes light up and the uncontrollable laughter when he told her about all the stupid things the boys did here. Her eyes start burning and not from the dry, hot wind. Her voice is croaky when she speaks.
“How are you holding up with all this?”
Jax sighs and takes his time to answer. Allana almost thinks he won’t but neither would she dare to ask again. It’s been almost two weeks since Opie’s funeral and Allana tries hard not to fall into the same habits as when her father died a few years back. Back then, she had thrown herself into helping others, her mother, the club, everything that would keep her from properly griefing. Eventually she had had to move. Get out of the toxic environment to find herself again. And as much as she hopes that this won’t be necessary this time, Allana feels the urge to throw herself into every opportunity of distraction offered to her. Jax’ voice pulls her out of her thoughts.
“I don’t know, Allana. It comes and goes and that’s what makes it so hard but that’s just how it works. Griefing, I mean.”
Allana delves back into her memories. The laughs and jokes. The drunk nights she and Opie had crashed on a sofa at the club house. The heartwarming way Layla had accepted their friendship with so much understanding and absolutely no bad feelings towards her. Allana’s eyes burn. And then there are tears. “Yeah, I know. But right now, it comes.”
She can feel Jax gently leaning his head on hers. He puts his arm around her waist, not pulling her in, just holding her. Allana swallows hard a few times before clearing her throat. For the life of her she couldn’t say who the words are directed to. Maybe she does mean Jax. Maybe she says them because she is the one who needs to hear them.
“You’re not alone in this. You know that, right?”
#thank you for reading#writeblr#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#jax teller#opie winston#this is literally just a 1k word teaser or somethign#took me ages to finish this#might become a short story at some point#flash fic#leviwrotestuff
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Heal (Male Fae ; Fic Raffle)
And done! @serenitydusk requested a story with the female reader being a witch who encounters a male fae. Like I said before, my muse grabbed hold to her wonderful ideas and refused to let go until there was story that incorporated those elements (all 11 eleven pages worth). So I hope you all enjoy this fic!
tw: blood ; injury ; attempted break in
Female Reader (POV) x Male Monster
The forest is alive in more ways than one.
The verdant green of the trees and underbrush is near blinding. The shade of the rich soil almost appears jet black. And the scent of the fresh blooms is short of addictive; almost mouthwatering.
All signs of the Fae.
You’ve known this fact ever since you moved to the outskirts of your picaresque, rural town. The power ebbing and flowing from the surrounding land told you as much. You haven’t pinpoint the exact source, and you’re fine with not knowing.
Some stones are better left unturned.
You know the land you live on is not your own. So you leave offerings near the thickening edge of the forest, where the old trail has been reclaimed by nature. Today, you offer a small jar of honey, freshly gathered from a nearby hive; untouched, chilled milk in a glass bottle; and healing salves neatly packed and tied in dense cloth. The latter is always gone when you return to give more offerings the next day.
Since you’ve begun paying your respects, in return, your decrepit cottage has slowly recovered from the damage caused by time and the elements. The musty scent covered up by the herbal bundles hanging from the ceiling has turned naturally sweet. The molded cracks and leaks in the walls and roof no longer exist. And most importantly, your meager foraging has grown bountiful, leaving you with an excess of ingredients to use. Most of it for your famed healing salves and ointments. You can’t help but smile knowing your work is just as popular among the Good Neighbors as it is among the townsfolk.
Which is why today, you’re able to head into town to answer a house call.
You tuck away another container of pain-relieving ointment then slide the top of your leather satchel in place. After a final glimpse at your cold hearth and sun-filled workshop, you set off.
The main path into town leads eastward, past two, towering rows of conifers. Their citrus, piney scent engulfs you with every step.
By the time you reach the town’s entrance, the sun is almost high in the sky. The townsfolk are up and about with many greeting you cordially. You do the same, but keep pace towards your destination. A few fallen leaves and pine needles cling to your light cloak; you know the fabric is suffused with the forest’s scent. Your patient won’t mind, but her caretaker may be offended.
Once your feet carry you down a narrow, cobbled street and to a bold, blue door, you lift your hand and give the barrier three solid knocks. There isn’t enough time to pluck away every needle and dust off every leaf before the door wrenches opens.
Roderick regards you with a critical eye, as if the piercing stare will send you scuttling back to your cottage. You stand your ground instead, and give him a pleasant, practiced smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Tate. I’m here for Mrs. Hale‘s weekly house call.”
You quickly learned to never call Edith anything but Mrs. Hale in his presence. The first time you did, your affront nearly left you without the gold coin and tip she promised you. So you adapted and now tread carefully, letting Roderick hear what he’d prefer. But great god and goddess if he didn’t make your attempts at pleasantries difficult.
Roderick hums low then steps away from the threshold. You swiftly enter in case he decides to change his mind.
“Mother is near the hearth. She insisted on preparing some tea,” he says, voice tightening. “‘For our guest’”, she said.
Roderick can barely think of you as such thanks to how you’ve proclaimed yourself a witch. You hope, with time, he’ll slowly come around. Just as many of the other townsfolk have.
You thank him and follow him the short distance to the kitchen. Edith sits at their small dining table, her wizened, deep brown hands clutching the steaming mug before her. Her wide nose flares as she inhales the vapors as the fresh scent of peppermint prickles your nose. One of your favorites.
“Roddy, is that the healer?” Her dark, rheumy eyes squint in your direction and her wrinkled face lifts with a smile. “It’s so good to see you, my dear.”
“Likewise, ma’am.”
As much as you wish to greet her properly with a hug or a pat to the back of her hand, you ignore the urge. Roderick could easily kick you out for not treating his mother-in-law with the “proper respect”. Instead, you remove your satchel and take the empty seat across from her.
“Roddy,” she says, “be a dear and pour our guest some tea, will you?”
You glance at Roderick; he looks as if he’s swallowed a bitter draught. But he does as his mother-in-law asks then stands at the kitchen entrance, like a sentinel. No matter. You’re here for Edith and her alone.
As you both chat about summer’s approach and her change in hairstyle, you examine her hands. You carefully bend each finger, checking her expression for any signs of pain. None. You then move on to her wrists and see her twinge at the slight movement.
“It’s better than it was before,” she says.
“That’s good, but I’d still like you to keep using the compress and herbal infusion. Warm the infusion and apply it three times a day, as before.”
“Yes, yes. Roddy will help me, won’t you dear?”
As you place some lengths of cotton wool and dried herbs for the infusion on the table, the crinkle of Roderick’s lips and nose lessens.
“Of course, Mother. You only need to ask.”
Edith smiles beatifically before her mouth falls open.
“Oh, you haven’t finished your tea.”
With the way Roderick’s nostrils flare, you know you’ve overstayed your welcome.
“What I managed to have was delicious,” you say, patting the back of her free hand. “I should get going.”
“Won’t you stay for dinner? Roddy can walk you back to your cottage afterwards.”
His gritted jaw says otherwise. You kindly decline Edith’s invitation and gather your satchel.
Roderick leads you to the front door, holding it open as you pass through. A harsh jingling from his person draws your attention.
“Here,” he says, thrusting a leather pouch your way. “Your coin.”
You carefully take it from his tense, outstretched hand.
“Thank—”
The door slams shut.
“...you.”
The bustle from the town’s main square drifts through the air. With a sigh, you turn back the way you came. There are a few items you need to purchase before returning home.
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Like many times before, your offering of healing salves has vanished from where you’ve left it. But surprisingly, so has the fresh honey and milk. That hasn’t happened before. Believing this to be a good sign, you smile and walk back in the direction of your cottage.
You arrive just as the sun has nearly vanished beneath the horizon, before the more natural denizens of the forest have fully awakened. You slide the wooden security bar in front of the door and light your hearth, as you do every night. Your mouth stretches open in a wide yawn, but you ignore the temptation to bathe and curl up in your bed. There are some herbs that need to be hung for drying and your recent tincture needs to be strained. So first—
You hear a knock at the door.
Your brows knit together; you’re not expecting any company. The townsfolk know better than to venture into the forest so close to nighttime.One knock becomes two. Then three, four, five. Silence. You only hear the chirping and buzzing of the usual nocturnal insects. The tight grip on your cloak loosens. Perhaps the person has—
A dull “thwack” sounds against the door. It’s followed by a creaking wrench and a deep grunt of effort. Then again and again. You know the sounds intimately. You’ve passed by men from the town felling trees for firewood in the fall.
The person outside is breaking in.
You nearly lose your footing backing away from the source of the sound. Your gaze darts around your workshop. The knives you own aren’t meant for injuring or self-defense. They pale in comparison to a sharpened axe.
The axe bites into the door with more force. The wood groans. Splinters. The blade hits true again. You see a hint of it through the door. Your stomach roils.
But you manage to swallow your scream. You refuse to give the intruder any pleasure from the palpable fear gripping your chest. Even as your lungs struggle to draw in air, you whip around and grab one of your paring knives. You aim it towards the door and brace yourself for what’s to come next.
There’s a pained yell, mingled with a sharp curse. A growl then an animalistic scream, aimed away from your door. Grunts and groans, which you recognize as signs of struggling. They’re cut off by a weighty ‘thud’ and a lighter one that swiftly follows. The sounds of the forest are muted and you stand unharmed in one piece. But how?
With slow careful steps, you edge towards the damaged door. You place your paring knife on the floor and slide the security bar away, swiftly picking up your knife once the plank is secured.
The would-be intruder lays on the ground in a crumpled heap, their face pressed into the grass. An arrow pierces their flesh just beneath their shoulder, its fletching of hawk feathers ruffling in the night’s breeze. You can’t help but wince; for the shot to have fractured bone, the strength behind such an attack had to be enormous.
Looking up, you see the source of that strength.
Your savior stands half a stone’s throw away, cloaked in shadows. What little light remains from the sinking sun acts as a backlight, revealing his silhouette. You’re able to see the outline of their quiver and longbow. They’re of humanoid shape, but something about his head makes you uncertain.It’s then you realize the odd shapes framing his head are large, curled horns. And see the glowing, green pinpoints staring at you. Not human. But fae.
Neither of you move from where you stand. Part of you wants to, however, not wishing to incur the wrath of this Kindly Neighbor. But you’re frozen where you stand. Perhaps by his power.
“You are unharmed?”
The masculine voice would be soothing if not for the rasping edges surrounding it. He sounds injured, but you have no way of confirming your suspicions. You swallow against the nervous lump in your throat.
“Yes, I am. I…appreciate your aid and concern.”
The fae scoffs.
“Your thanks is misplaced,” he says. “I’m merely reinforcing the laws of the forest established by its ruler. Nothing more.”
A groan interrupts your thoughts on how to continue the conversation. The bulky, would-be intruder shifts his head against the ground, turning their tanned face away from the dirt. You’re able to make out his features thanks to your lit hearth, and find them familiar.Roderick isn’t the only one in town who is wary of you. But he is the most forward with his actions and words. The man lying near your home is one of his friends.
You stifle the curse building behind your tongue. The fae have never condoned vulgarity and you don’t wish to make things worse in this delicate situation.
“You should return indoors,” the fae says suddenly. “And find a way to deafen your hearing.”
A sharp chill rushes down your spine.
“May I ask why?”
You think you hear his grip clench tighter around his bow.
“This man’s actions have assured his death.”
Your stomach plummets as your mouth opens before you’re able to stop it.
“Please don’t!”
The unnatural silence amplifies the pounding in your head. The fae hisses, his body shifting in a stilted manner as he hunches forward to guard his middle. So he is injured.
“And why should I show him mercy?” he rasps out.
“This man has family and friends,” you say. “If they came to search for him, they could disrupt the peace of the town and the forest in general. I don’t wish for any innocents to accidentally bring the forest’s wrath onto their heads because of him.”
Because not even you, who many of the townsfolk believe to be powerful, wish to incur the wrath of the forest itself.
The fae says nothing in return and you fear he’ll deny your request. After a strong heartbeat, you speak again.
“Please do this and I’ll tend to your wounds until you fully heal.”
Your sense of logic catches up to you and decries your words as dangerous. You know what the Kindly Ones do for anyone must be repaid in kind by their own terms. But you don’t take them back. Because avoiding any harm befalling the townsfolk is better than having it seep into the town or fall upon it like sudden deluge. This thought alone keeps your gaze stalwart as the night settles around you.
“Done.”
The weight of your agreement settles beneath your skin and latches onto your bones. It’s a warning; if you don’t uphold your end of the bargain, the oath will find another way. One that’s more grievous.
The fae stalks over to the fallen man. His ram skull mask and long, inky, black hair coming into view. He slowly hefts Roderick’s friend up onto his feet with a claw-tipped hand. If it weren’t for the bloodied slash interrupting the pale white skin of his torso, you believe he could do so without effort. Surprisingly, Roderick’s friend groans then startles, crying out as he agitates his injury.
“Listen to me.”
An otherworldly reverberation bolster’s the fae voice. Roderick’s friend goes ramrod straight.
“You will run back home like the cur you are. You will tell the one who sent you how displeased I am. And if he should step foot in this forest, my hounds will hunt him down and rend him apart. Then come for you.”
The man screams as if facing death incarnate. And in a way, he is. The fae releases him and he runs down the path into town. The fae snorts at the sight, swaying unsteadily.
“One last thing,” he says, his gaze finding yours. “Do not remove my mask.”
He then falls over in a heap.
The forest comes to life again moments later, as if the last few occurrences never happened. You curse freely, the reality of your situation becoming apparent. Clenching your jaw so as not to hear your teeth chatter, you rush over towards the fae. The rhythmic rise and fall of his bloodstained chest makes you sigh with relief.
It takes a great deal of strength and energy—neither which you barely have due to the long day—to drag him inside. It’s only after securing your home again that you keep hauling him towards the rug before the hearth. Sweat beads your brow once you finish. One obstacle done. Checking over his injury reveals some stemming thanks to the clumpings of dried blood. That gives you enough time to create a makeshift bed and gather what you need. Warm water, pieces of cotton cloth, ointment and healing salve…
The blood that once stained his skin now clings to your hands. But thanks to your attentiveness, the injury is concealed beneath a generous amount of medicine and two layers of cotton cloth. Your patient shifts against the thick quilt and pillows beneath him. A good sign.
“You’ll need to remain here for a few days for the wound to heal properly.” You rub your clean forearm against your clammy brow. “Is that alright?”
“Whatever it takes to hide my moment of weakness,” he rumbles curtly.
You resist the urge to curl your lip. He’ll be just fine.
“Shall I leave the hearth lit for you?”
“No need. I can sleep without it.”
With an accepting hum, you place a blanket onto his brown breeches, ensuring it doesn’t touch his wound.
“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call. Pleasant dreams.”
A sense of wrongness almost overcomes you with him inside your home. Luckily, you’re able to stave it off. You know you’ve done the right thing. You’ve saved an innocent family from the attention of the fae. You’ve saved a guilty if foolish man from a pain worse than death. These realizations bolster you, becoming a calming mantra.As you finish straining your tincture and hanging your herbal bundles to dry, you feel as if you’re being watched. You refuse to turn and confirm this, your shoulders hunching.
“Conall,” he says.
You nearly drop the damp, clean sieve in your hand.
“Pardon?”
“You may call me Conall. It should help make my temporary stay easier.”
He falls silent immediately after. It’s only after ensuring the green pinpoints have vanished that you heat up your bathing water, douse the hearth, and retreat to your room.You hope he heals and leaves soon; time cannot pass fast enough. But you know it won’t.
Slumber pricks at your mind and it coaxes you into unawareness.
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The awkward tension between you and Conall rears its head the next day. He accepts the food, drink, and aid you provide without a word. Which you are more than satisfied with. The only thing that stirs your annoyance is his staring.
Perhaps Conall hasn’t seen a human up close going through their usual routine. Or he hasn’t been inside of a human home. Either way, you feel the vivid pinpoints that are his eyes follow you when your back is turned. The strain comes to a head two days later, when Conall’s injury has begun scaring.
“What is it?” you snap.
If Conall is surprised by your tense words, you can’t tell due to his mask. It only serves to infuriate you more.
“You’ve stared at me as if trying to look right through me, even though I’m doing what I can to ensure your health. Yes, this is part of our original bargain. But I will not be made into some object in my own home! Why is it that you stare so much?”
Hints of frigid fear attempt to douse your building irritation. You stifle them easily, expecting a snide response.
“You are worth looking at,” he says. “Especially in my eyes.”
A new heat replaces your searing temper. One that floods your cheeks and heats your blood. Your mouth snaps shut and you swiftly finish wrapping cotton cloth around his torso.
“Y-Your injury is nearly healed,” you say, standing up and hurrying towards your filled basin. Thrusting your hands into the chilly water does nothing to help. “You should be able to move easily now. Perhaps leave in a few more days.”
“That is good to know, healer.” You hear something akin to mirth in his tone. “Perhaps I will get to see more of that fire you have hidden before then.”
You flee moments later, as much as you’re later loathed to admit. Even worse, his words stay lodged in your thoughts even into the next day. But that isn’t the only change you notice.
Conall begins to compliment your cooking, sincerely stating how comforting it is. He even aids you while you wrap his torso with fresh cotton cloth by holding it in place. During one long day after a promised house call, you find him asleep before the lit hearth. As expected. But the bundle of vivid, wildflowers awaiting you at the table is new.
So is the smile it brings to your lips and how you welcome it.
Soon enough, Conall begins to ask you about your house calls. About seeing Edith weekly. About Lucas, the little boy with golden-brown skin whose illness you’re monitoring. It isn’t surprising when the talks veer into more personal territory. He asks about your favored places in the forest and in town. What sweets you prefer. How you gather the offerings you leave near the forest’s edge.
“But how did you…”
Your voice trails off as his gaze darts away from yours. You smile and place your spoon into your cooling stew.
“I take it my healing salve is of the greatest use to you?”
Conall hums, lifting another bite of dinner underneath the pointed edge of his mask.
“The honey and milk are not unwelcomed,” he murmurs. “Perhaps that can be said about other things as well.”
This time, his eyes meet yours. And with a small thrill, you realize the sight of them no longer frightens you. Before your bravery leaves, you reach across your table and place your hand on the back of his.
“I agree.”
Your smile falters. As much as you wish to not ruin this peaceful moment, reality nudges at your mind like always.
“You’ll be leaving soon, won’t you?”
Conall pulls his hand away. Only to gently thread his fingers through yours, being careful of his claws. But he still skims your skin with them, making your shiver.
“Yes. But I will return, if you wish to wait for me.”
The breath you take is silent, but heavy. You release it as you laugh, happiness bubbling up from inside you.
“I do. For however long it takes.”
That night, before bed, Conall calls for you. As you kneel beside his makeshift bed in your nightshirt, he lifts his hand and cups your cheek. With his other hand slowly lifting his mask, he closes the distance between you. His lips press against your skin, then trail down the side of your neck before resting at your pulse. He lingers there, then gently scrapes his sharp teeth against the area. Your self-control nearly shatters then and there as he pulls away, replacing his mask.
“When the morning comes, I will be gone.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “But when I return, I plan to continue where I left off.”
You lift your own hand to touch the back of his.
“Can I know one thing before you go?”
He nods.
“Why is it you can’t remove your mask?”
His thumb stroking the warm skin of your cheek pauses stiffly before resuming.
“This...is my punishment for my recklessness,” he says. “It’s one of many shackles binding me to the Queen who rules over these lands and lands beneath the hills. As long as she holds them, I’ll never truly be free. All of my being will solely belong to her. My thoughts, my appearance, my strength, my skill. Anyone who attempts to remove those bindings will face her wrath. But no more.
“I have something precious to fight for and see again. Even if I have to challenge every member of her Hunt; even if I have to face her head on, I promise I will prevail. So that one day, you’ll find me standing before you, utterly freed.”
Hot tears slip from your eyes and he patiently wipes them away.
“I accept your bargain,” you say. He coaxes you closer, pulling you into a warm embrace. Even with your nightshirt acting as a barrier, you commit the feeling of what skin touches yours to memory.
Morning wakes you with a slight chill in the air. You lay on Conall’s makeshift bed a bit longer, inhaling the fading scent of him: deep and heady like the forest after a strong rain. This, too, you lock away in your heart as you stand to your feet. All that’s left to do is to wait.
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Days become weeks. And weeks turn into months. Soon enough, the harvesting festival is nearly here with the townsfolk preparing for the festivities. You still make your usual house calls, some to newer patients and others to familiar ones.
Little Lucas has long overcome his illness and is happy to play with the other children again. Edith always has a cup of herbal tea with honey ready for you, glad to talk to you about anything and everything. Roderick is nowhere to be found during these visits. But the few times you do glimpse him, he looks at you with muted fear. He may never change.
But at least now, he knows you aren’t to be trifled with.
That evening, after the festival, you finish creating another batch of ointment as the harvest moon illuminates the night sky. Fatigue slows your attempts at cleaning your tools, but you manage to finish the task. A series of knocks on your door startles you. Forgetfulness and drowsiness are to blame for you not securing your door.
Wary, you silently take the sharp dagger gifted to you by Edith a few weeks ago. You slowly walk towards the door and open it.
A shirtless man with vivid green pupils surrounded by black peers down at you. The scar running against the bridge of his straight, pale white nose nearly interrupts his entire face. One of the pointed tips of his ears is missing, replaced by a healing scab. But it and its twin are framed by familiar curling horns as is his head. His ragged yet long inky, black hair shifts as he sways. A wet gasp tears from your throat as he pitches forward and you break his fall.
“Conall!”
He buries his nose into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The hot breath he releases is tempered with a soft kiss on your skin.
“How I’ve missed this scent.”
A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it. You hold him close, sniffling against your tears.
“It seems I’m injured yet again,” he mutters wryly, sounding tired.
You place a hand against your beloved Conall’s cheek as he grins, being careful of the green bruising.
“I’ll take care of you,” you say. “If you’ll let me.”
The weight of your promise settles into your bones, palpable but not unpleasant. It even sends a shiver down your spine. Or is that caused by Conall’s warm smile?
You’re not sure. But at this moment, you don’t mind not knowing. Not as you close the distance between the two of you. Before the warmth of his kiss is all you know, he whispers against your skin.
“As long as I can do the same for you.”
#monster boyfriend#monster/human#monster romance#exophilia#fae boyfriend#fairy#fair folk#200 follower raffle#I hope you all enjoy!#fem reader#female reader
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When the snow flakes fall and they dust your hair and when the last rays of light desperately claw at the banks of snow lining the village
Do you gain a sense of longing to be the first to trail footprints in the virgin snow?
Or do you rush through the piney threshold of a cabin to kneel by the crackling fire?
I’ve read this so many times and I honestly can say this is beautiful but I have no idea what you’re asking me.
I can only interpret that you’re asking me if I prefer to stay inside when it snows or go out in it. If that’s the case, I prefer to stay inside. I don’t handle the cold very well.
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devil's hole
church square park
nature view park
earl w brydges artpark state park
heritage trail
falkner park
upper whirlpool trail
lower falls park
kiwanis park
tonawanda rails to trails trailhead
four mile creek state park
bruce trail southern terminus cairn
lewiston town park
whirlpool state park
two mile creek greenway trail
fort niagara boat launch
de veaux woods state park
bond lake park
lewiston dog park
two mile creek conservation area
nys park lewiston
porter on the lake town park
niagara falls north/lewiston KOA journey
lewiston landing park
toohey park
niagara falls memorial park
reservoir state park
washuta park
veterans memorial park
d'amelio park
niagara falls state park
artpark
larkin woods
donald b myers memorial park
francis danter memorial park
marion fricano town park
conesus lake marine park
angola centennial park
herman park
larry kanute memorial park
genesee valley park
franklin gulf
dansville veterans memorial
evangola state park
james e schwarzenbach memorial
jellystone
east otto state forest
niagara falls/ grand island koa holiday
beaver meadow
hobuck flats
buttermilk falls
boyd & parker park and groveland ambuscade
hamburg beach
glen park
eternal flame
bridal falls
grand island bridge lookout
motor island wildlife management area
veterans park grand island
spicer creek wildlife management area
lagoon park
kershaw park
onanda park
general mills
vitale park
babcock park
sugar creek glen campground
niawanda park
victor hiking trails inc
al lorenz park
dolomite trail
canadaigua city pier
squaw island wildlife management area
crescent trail: white brook nature area
canadaigua lake state marine park
allegany state park
victor hiking trails
evergreen trails campground
emery park
stony brook state park
great bear recreational trails
watkins glen
canadaigua canine campus pet memorial rock garden
onanda park
burt dam fishermens park
watkins glen state park
ontario county beach park
vine valley beach
roseland wake park
deep run park
miller park
merge sea park
quiet meadows canadaigua
erie county park
dec fishing site 18 mile creek
18 mile creek
gallagher pier
colden falls
eagle cliff falls
hamlin beach state park
durand eastman beach
ludwig/raymond park
boston hills
adirondacks
minnewaska state park preserve
harriman state park
taughannock falls state park
taughannock falls
rushford lake
hamlin park
cuba lake
orchard parks & gardens
oatka creek park
genesee valley canal
wiscoy creek
sturgeon point nature trail
genesee river
north branch wiscoy creek
piney orchard
canadarago lake
oaks creek
otsego lake
caroga lakes
canada lake
west lake
sleepy hollow lake
hudson river valley
moss lake
case lake
hanging bog wildlife management area
harriet hollister park
harriet hollister spencer recreation area
buckhorn island state park
manchester gateway trail
sonnenberg gardens and mansion state park
atwater meadows park
robert h treman state park
whiskey hollow nature preserve
genesee river wilds amity river access site
stid hill multiple use area
ontario pathways stanley trailhead
richard p outhouse memorial park
bare hill unique area
indian hill
shortsville budd park
corbett's glen nature park
grimes glen park
irene gossin nature preserve
seneca lake state park
powder mills park
royal coach park
bristol mountain aerial adventures
mendon ponds park
mendon center park
barnes gully
pal-mac aqueduct county park
zurich park
red house lake boathouse allegany state
lock 62 canal park
macedon canal park
thornell farm park
keuka lake state park
cheerful valley campground
egypt park
carpenter park at the port of pittsford
port of pittsford
erie canal boat launch
bristol harbour marina
oak island waterloo ny
lock 32 state canal park
ganondagan state historic site
junius ponds cabins & campgrounds
finger lakes national forest
hill cumorah visitors center
port of palmyra marina
bristol harbour
white haven memorial park
bare hill canadaigua
canadaigua lake
channing h philbrick park
kershaw park
canadaigua lake state marine park
sonnenberg park
lagoon park
lakefront park canadaigua
telyea park
atwaters meadow park
northeast park canadaigua
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It’s not bad living in Charming. Nathan didn’t think it would be. It’s a little jarring being in his first home. The brick is welcoming and the interior is warm. It’s familiar. Despite his mom not stepping a foot here in years, it’s weird feeling her presence. It’s almost disappointing waking up in the morning and heading into the kitchen not seeing her or even Kaylee. His mind wonders how Ben would be as a child.
His dad is trying though. His dad makes it a point to have breakfast every morning. Sometimes, his grandma will take him to school, but his dad drops him off to Stockton. It sometimes feels like he hasn’t lived with him for an extended period of time. There are just the little things from how his sheets don’t smell the same as what his mom uses that makes the truth of his living situation known. Also, Nathan can admit his mom absolutely babied him. So he doesn’t expect his dad to wake him up with kisses or for the five minute hugs because his mom can’t let him go.
He can tell Gemma loves him being back home. There is a weekly dinner at her house. She’s been spoiling him with new clothes, accessories, and the general hoovering.
Still even with the new friends and being back with his dad’s family, he misses his mother. He knew he was going to miss her, but he didn’t think it would be this bad. He calls her every night. They both give each other a run down of their days. He is thankful for technology that they can video call. At first, he would take the calls in his room. He is still uncertain about where his parents stand with each other.
He knows there is not any hate between them. Just a lot of hurt. His dad had been truthful about what happened between him and his mom. Nathan can admit. He does blame his dad a lot. He thinks when his dad told him the full truth he may have even said he hated him. He hurt his family. If anything it made Nathan want to protect his mother even more. It’s why he kept the video calls for his room, but his mom had called him early one day and he happened to be in the kitchen with his dad. His mom was always excited about the littlest things. She had planted a butterfly garden and had been so excited to show him the butterflies. His dad had been making them something to eat and the next thing he knew his dad had his phone while he and his mom talked about whatever.
So now, a portion of his calls are taken over by them asking how each other were. It just makes him feel even more guilt that he is keeping his suspicions and concerns from his father.
Nathan is sitting on the couch. His body is tired from football practice and he really just wants to sleep. He is dozing off slightly as his mom sends him pictures of the nails she did today.
“Your mom said it’s alright for you to go to bed.”
Nathan jumps at the sound of his dad’s voice. He thought his dad was going to be gone all of Saturday.
“What?” Nathan asks, confused.
“She just texted saying you sent her a bunch of letters and you only do that when you are tired.”
Nathan furrows his brows and looks down at his phone and he sees the text that is just a bunch of random letters.
“You and Mom are texting?” Nathan inquires.
“About you.” His dad replies.
Nathan eyes his father. It’s weird looking in his dad’s eyes knowing he has the same ones. His mother always told him that he had his father’s eyes. He sees things the way his dad does. He doesn’t know if she was happy about that.
He knows his father isn’t a saint clearly. His mother is a married woman. He just knows that things are complicated. He is protective over his mother and his dad has hurt her before.
“How did you do it?” He asks his father.
“Do what?”
“Let Mom go.” Nathan remembers that day. The day his mom had made the decision to end things. His Dad didn’t fight for her, not really. He just let her go.
His dad sighs and joins him on the couch. His dad doesn’t say anything for a couple minutes. “Your mom’s happiness...it means more to me than me keeping her here. It means more than my own happiness. I can’t blame her for leaving. I pushed her to make that choice.”
“Why didn’t you fight harder?” Nathan asks.
“Nate...I probably would’ve pushed her further away. It’s -”
“Don’t say it’s complicated because it’s really not.” Nathan fires back. “You guys could’ve gone to marriage counseling. Mom missed you so much. Do you understand how hard those six months were?” Nathan asks his father. His mother was miserable. He knows she tried to hide it. She always put him before everything and left no room for her to grieve - to move on. “Mom just wanted you to make things right because you fucked up. Then she met Vitaly and that is just…” Nathan trails off. He clasps his mouth shut.
“What about the Russian?” His dad asks.
“It’s nothing.” Nathan shakes with a shake of his head. “Just whatever you two are doing. Just don’t hurt her again.”
..
Nathan could care less about the homecoming dance, football, and even his date. All he cares about is that this is the second weekend his mom is coming down to visit him, but the first weekend she is going to stay for a bit. He has been counting down the days and he had been able to convince his mom to save money and just stay with him and his dad. He had been able to use some puppy eyes and begging and his mom caved. It wasn’t like Vitaly was going to know. The man couldn’t even be bothered with coming.
Nathan had woken up way early due to his excitement. His mom was coming in the morning on Friday although he would be in school when she would arrive. She was just staying for the weekend unfortunately. She would be leaving on Monday morning after he left for school.
He had been barely paying attention all day during school. He just wanted to see his mother. He rushed out of school not paying attention to what his friends were saying to him. He expected to see his dad or grandma, but he is pleasantly shocked to see his mom standing outside of her car. He runs over to his mom and wraps his arms around her and twirls her around.
She begs him to stop while laughing, but it is their thing since he has inherited his father’s height and his mom is such a tiny thing.
She giggles as he puts her down and gives her a real hug.
“I take it someone missed me.”
“I missed you so much, Mom.” He tells her and his body relaxes at her familiar scent of oranges that seems imprinted on her skin.
“I’m here now, baby. I missed you too.” She tells him.
. . .
“When did you get in?” Nathan asks his mother when they make their way back to Charming.
“Around noon.”
“Was Dad there?”
Alma nods her head. “Yeah, despite me still having the key. I’m surprised the house is clean. Gemma cleaning up after you two?”
Nathan snorts. “No. Dad actually gave me a chore list. It’s how I make my allowance.”
Alma looks over at him in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah, Mom. It sucks.”
She laughs. “Now you know how I felt when I had to clean up after you, Dad, and Kaylee. At least Kaylee would help.”
Nathan smiles at the mention of his sister. He has noticed as the years go by, grief has been kinder to his mom. She can mention Kaylee freely. She still struggles with Ben, but she isn’t scared to talk about things Kaylee used to do.
“It’s not weird being back in the house is it?” He asks hesitantly.
“There’s nothing but good memories in that house.” His mom assures him.
Nathan nods his head and believes her. “So tell me about the shop?”
His mom smiles and it takes over her whole face.
. . .
“So Alma’s here?” Gemma asks her son.
She knows Nathan has been downright giddy about his mom visiting. Gemma has noticed her son has been more subdued and almost nervous. She also noticed since Nathan has made home in Charming her son doesn’t mess around with croweaters that much or at all.
“Yeah. She is picking up Nathan from school right now. So you need to be nice.”
“When am I not?” Gemma asks.
“Ma…” Jax warns.
“Is her husband coming down to visit?” That gets a reaction out of Jax as he clenches his jaw.
“No. It’s just Alma.”
“Staying at your place?”
Jax’s blue eyes pin down on her. “If you have something to say just say it, Ma.”
“She’s not your Old Lady anymore, Jax. You don’t need to get caught in between her and her marriage.” Gemma isn’t blind to the fact her son still wants Alma. She knows Alma still has her son wrapped around her fingers. She knows Alma would never do anything to take advantage of Jax’s feelings. It just worried Gemma with how the two of them could fall back into old habits. They don’t need to piss off any Russians.
“No drama, Ma, for Nathan, please.”
“I promise.”
. . .
Jax isn’t surprised that Alma is the mom to have a custom made hoodie proudly displaying their son’s jersey number. In fact, Alma is a pro at tailgating and mingling with other parents of athletes. He notices that this is her element. He hurts a bit in his chest to think that she had given this up a bit with Nathan living with him. It hurts to think he missed out on Alma being the doting mom and cheering for her son.
It hurts even worse seeing all of the club here for Nathan’s game and how it feels so normal with Alma between all of them. It is as if the past five years haven’t happened. They are a family together and happy.
Alma did have to do some convincing for Nathan to enjoy a party after the game. It tugs at his heart to see his son so attached to his mother. He knows that mother and son have a profound bond that is greater than the bond between him and Nathan. Jax isn’t jealous, but it makes it more obvious that he had fucked up their family.
It’s even more evident how the guys are craving her attention now. She and Bobby had a very in depth discussion about baking. She had scolded Piney for being reckless with his health. Tig had already roped her into a game of pool.
His mom was even being genuine in her conversation about some of the nail designs she would like if Alma had time to do them.
It’s glimpses of simple things he pissed away by being an asshole.
And he knows he is playing with fire, as he somehow convinced her to let him take her out to eat.
“He is growing up so fast, Jax.” Alma laments as they sit in Lumpy’s diner.
“I know.” Jax agrees.
“He isn’t giving you any trouble is he?”
“You know he’s not. Boy is very self sufficient. Don’t know if it is because he is scared to ask me for anything though.” Jax admits. Sometimes, he can feel a distance between him and his son. Jax knows that at the end of the day there is probably some lingering resentment Nathan holds to him.
“Just give it some time. But I assure you, Nathan is adamant on doing things himself for the most part.”
Jax smiles. “It’s nice having him back through. I feel bad for taking him away from you though.”
“You didn’t take him away from me, Jax. Nathan does like being back home in Charming.Besides, you’ll get all those fun teenage years.”
Jax laughs. “Let’s hope he doesn’t repeat our decisions.”
“I don’t know he has been telling me he’s been talking to Tristen lately.”
“Oswald?”
Alma nods her head.
“Great. Exactly what we need.”
Alma giggles. “I think I would make a pretty hot grandma.”
“Al, please no,” Jax says as he covers his eyes.
Alma’s giggling is cut short when her phone goes off. Jax uncovers his eyes and he watches Alma’s mood dim a little. She begins to move out of her booth. “I’ll be back.”
Jax nods his head as he watches Alma walk away and out to the front. He keeps his eyes trained on her as she listens to the caller. She keeps her back to him. He can’t hear her, but there is a lot of head nodding and shaking her head. The phone call only lasts about 3 minutes. He watches as she looks at her phone before she slowly slides it back into her back pocket. He acts distracted by the plate of food their waitress slid in front of him.
He can tell the mood between them has shifted as Alma slides back into her seat.
“Sorry about that,” she says.
Jax shakes his head. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. just...um Vitaly.”
Jax nods his head. He eyes Alma, who is becoming distracted by her food. He wants to ask questions. He wants to press for more information. He just knows better than to question her now in public. He’ll act like everything is fine.
He slides over the extra ranch he requested from the waitress. “I got more ranch for your fries.”
“Thank you.”
. . .
Jax has just locked the front door to the house when he is hit with longing as he watches Alma hang up her purse and take off his shoes.
The once happy mood diminished after she came back from her phone call.
“You want a drink before bed?”
Alma turns to him with a raised eyebrow. She folds her arms across her chest. “Why don’t you ask me what you really want to ask me? I didn’t think you were the type to need liquid courage.”
Jax licks his lips and he leans against the wall. “The Russian didn’t want to come down?”
“No.”
Jax nods his head. “Busy with work...or?”
“Would you even want him here, Jax?” Alma replies.
“Doesn’t matter what I feel. If he has a good relationship with Nathan, I don’t want to be the cause of a rift.”
Alma shakes her head. “Everything is fine, Jax.”
“I never said they weren’t.” Jax replies.
Alma’s eyes widen slightly, but he watches as a blank mask slips into place. “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”
Jax doesn’t stop her. He watches as she walks down the hallway to the room that used to belong to their daughter. He moves away from the wall as he goes to the bar and gets himself a glass to pour him some whiskey.
He knows that if something is wrong in her marriage. He would be on the fine line considering Vitaly’s connection to the Russians. They rarely do business with them,but he is not looking to start trouble either. Then again, he doesn’t really care about being courteous if Alma is involved. Yet, maybe he is overreacting. Marriage isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. He knows that first hand.
He just doesn’t like that fact if Alma is in trouble, she feels she can't come to him for help.
.
.
.
Jax gave his son and Alma privacy while they said goodbye. He was rewarded with a hug for his goodbye and a few tips in things Nathan or the house would need. He had stepped aside and went into the house when he saw Nathan struggling to keep his composure.
It broke his heart to see his son like this. Yet, now, his son has been incredibly quiet since Alma left. Gone were the red eyes with tears, his son was clutching his phone tightly, biting his lip, and his leg was jumping up and down. Jax couldn’t ignore it.
“Your mom make it home, okay?” Jax asks despite already receiving a text from Alma she was home.
Nathan nods his head.
“So what’s going on? You’re about to chew through your bottom lip.” Jax points out.
“It’s nothing,” Nathan says dismissively as he runs his hands through his hair.
The good thing about his world crashing around him when he and Alma got divorced, Jax became more self aware. He had too. Also in having kids, he can see how his behavior is inherited or learned.
So he knows his son is lying to him. He knows that Nathan is keeping something close to his chest. Jax would force it out of his son, but he is trusting his son to come to him when he is ready. Jax knows that Nathan needs to come to terms with whatever is plaguing him on his own before reaching him. Jax has to wait for Nathan to trust him to handle the knowledge that Nathan has.
“If something was wrong with your mom, you can tell me. You know that right?”
Nathan turns his head and a sad smile takes over his features. “I know, Dad.”
.
.
.
Alma is tired. Her body aches and she is running out of concealer. Vitaly isn’t being careful anymore. Thankfully, since she planned to go to Charming she didn’t book any appointments for the last two weeks of November. She had been able to focus on books and new designs. Yet, now with a possible concussion, having to pop her shoulder back in place, and a bruise that can even be seen on the inside of her lip, she can’t go to Charming. Nathan and of course Jax would notice everything. She is supposed to be leaving tomorrow. She feels bad for doing this last minute as Nathan had been going on and on about how the house was decorated.
They were going to be having two Thanksgiving as Nathan just wanted her and Jax to have dinner for themselves. The other Thanksgiving she had somehow got an invitation to Gemma’s. She has noticed that Gemma has been nicer to her since her trip to Charming. It almost feels like things were returning to how things before the divorce. Alma knows though Gemma is only being nice to appease the boys.
Alma leans back into her chair. She doesn’t want to break her son’s heart, but she knows she has too. These next two weeks are going to be torture. She knows she will have a lot to make up for when Christmas comes around.
With shaky hands, she calls her son. His answer is immediate.
“Hey, Ma,” he greets. She can tell he is smiling.
“Hey, baby,” she replies. Her voice is a bit hoarse. She hopes he can’t tell.
“Everything okay? You sound a bit sick?” She can hear some movement in the background.
“You at home?”
“Yeah, I’m laughing at Dad trying to clean the pool.”
“You’re not helping?”
“No, I know he is trying to trick me so he can push me in.”
“Sounds like your Dad.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t answer the questions, Mom.”
Alma closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “You’re going to be mad at me, baby.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m not going to be able to come up for Thanksgiving.”
He doesn’t respond right away. All she can hear is his breathing. “Baby -”
“Why?”
“I’m not feeling good. I wouldn’t be any fun, but I’ll be there for Chri -”
Nathan interrupts her. “What did he do?”
“Nathan -”
“What did he do, Mom?”
“Nathan, I just can’t come okay. I’m sorry.” Alma can’t hold back the tears now. Her voice cracks. “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m a terrible -”
“Mom, don’t cry okay,” Nathan rushes out. “Please, don’t cry.” He begs. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not upset. It’ll be okay, Mom.”
“I’m so sorry, Nathan.”
“He should be, Mom.”
.
.
.
Nathan is scared. He is worried. He thinks he feels guilty. His dad had asked him if everything was okay with his mother and he lied. Now, his mom wasn’t able to come to Thanksgiving and she wasn’t answering her phone. She always answered. If she couldn’t answer, she would immediately send him a text she would call him back.
Something was wrong. He should’ve told his dad the truth. He immediately made some fib that something happened to her store. His dad and grandmother bought it. His mom even had the foresight to call his dad to reassure him everything was okay.
Yet, now, it’s been two days since Thanksgiving and he has not received a text or heard his mother’s voice. He is fucking scared. He knows better than to message Vitaly. That could only endanger his mother more. Nathan wipes a hand down his face and he is surprised to find tears. He didn’t even realize he had started crying.
He can’t keep quiet. The silence is only bringing on violence to his mother. He storms down the hallway to the garage where his father is at. A new hobby of his is restoring bikes that he will either sell or keep for a collection. His dad looks over at him briefly before he does a double take. No doubt noticing the tears.
His dad throws his tool down and begins wiping his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s about Mom. I’m so sorry, Dad,” Nathan cries out as his dad steps in front of him.
Jax grips his shoulders. “Is she hurt? What happened?”
“I should’ve told you from the start, Dad. I’m so sorry.” Nathan wails.
“Hey, calm down. Just tell me now. What’s going on?”
Nathan looks into his father’s eyes. He wipes at his tears. “Vitaly...he hurts Mom.” Nathan reveals. Finally letting the truth out. “I...I can’t get a hold of her. I think he hurt her bad this time. I’m sorry, Dad. I should’ve told you.”
Jax wraps his arms around him tightly. He embraces him in a tight hug. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. You told me now. I’ll handle it, okay.”
#the unknown#Jackson Teller#soa fanfiction#soa#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#soa fanfic#jax teller x oc#jax x oc
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Lumberjack Steve (preview)
Do not reblog
You heaved, taking in deep breaths to sooth your burning lungs.
“Are you alright, ma'am?” you screamed as heard the voice.
“Oh,” you gulped as you caught the stranger looking you up and down, as if he was examining you.
He stood a few feet away from you but you could still make out his mesmerizing eyes, his dark golden hair swept back, his hand holding onto an axe.
Looking at the chopped wood behind him, if you had to guess you’d say he was a lumberjack.
You cocked your head, trying to pin down who he reminded you of, you couldn’t not with his face covered with the thick beard, which was a few shades darker than his hair.
He plunged his axe into the log he was chopping as he walked towards you, “Do you need help?”
You walked backwards, no matter how GORGEOUS he was still a stranger and you were deep in the woods. You stumbled backwards – falling flat on your behind as your palms laid flat on the ground.
In two long steps he was in front of you, he simply hovered above you. “Are you okay?” he asked.
You sniffled as you smoothed your dress back down your thighs, “Oh my god, I think this might be the most humiliating moment of my life, and I really just want to die right now,” you sobbed as you flung the wet mud off of your plans.
“You’re alright don’t worry,” he smiled at you as he crouched in front of you, his long fingers grazing your ankle “looks like you sprained it.” he mused.
“How would you know?”
“I just do.” He looked back up at you, giving you a toothy grin. “Were you running from someone?” He looked around to see if someone was following you, “You’re safe here. I’m Steve.”
You told him your name as you tried to stand up on your feet, holding onto his arms for support. You felt a jolt of pain in your right ankle as soon as you put pressure on it. You hissed in pain, laying your forehead against his chest, breathing his piney and musky scent in.
You felt the warmth of his large hand as he rubbed your back to calm you “Do you want to go to the hospital? My place is nearby if you’d – uh – like to – “ he trailed off as you shook your head no.
“Do I know you?” you looked up at him so you could properly see his face.
“It’s – well you may. How did you hurt your hand?” he asked running touching your bruised knuckles.
“Um... well, how does one say she punched her boyfriend without seeming like a crazy person?” you asked, genuinely curious.
His smile turned into a frown as he cleared his throat “Seems like it was in self defense.” He assumed.
“Nope. I started it,” you shook your head as your own brash actions “caught him cheating on me – with someone prettier than me.” You whispered, almost ashamed even if you knew you had no reason to be.
“Now why would you say that?” he wanted to know.
“Huh?”
“Do you think he will hurt you?”
“I honestly don’t know. I saw a different side of him. Suffice to say it’s over between us."
#please give feedback#i really wanted to get this out today but just couldn't#and i wouldn't wanna do a bad job either
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Disastrous Game
SOA fic. Juice
Ivy and Cherry were playing pool prior to starting their shift at the clubhouse. Well, Cherry was. Ivy, was not sure what she was doing. Cherry was attempting to teach her.
“Sorry.My brothers refused to teach me.Said it wasn’t lady like,” Ivy said rolling her eyes.
Cherry smirked,”What did you do?”
“It’s not my fault that the pool cue hit them in the back of the head. All of them by accident of course,” she grinned.
“Aren’t you a mean one,”Cherry teased, resetting the table again.
The redhead grinned wide’”I’m the baby. And am easily influenced by watching their juvenile behavior.”
The girls practiced a little more. The more she tried, the worse she got.
“Let’s take a break. Ivy I’ll grab some lunch. Maybe Half could do better than me? Want me to ask?”
“If you want.”
While she was gone, Ivy pulled up YouTube tutorial for playing pool. Which only made her worse if possible. Finally she gave up and cleaned up the pool table. Double checking the bar, she waited for Cherry to come back. The bar was ready for the Sons that night. The ones that weren’t on runs. Juice, Piney and Half Sack were the only ones there. Cherry and Half came back.
“I can try and teach you to play,” Half said with a grin.
“Seriously Kip help her out. Between me and YouTube, somehow she’s worse!”
“Well at least Bobby forgave me for the pool table incident,” Ivy said quietly.
Later Half had finally given up. She’d gotten worse.
“We’ll find you something else. You’re great at something. We just have to find out what.” He said encouragingly.
After she closed the bar for the night, Ivy put on her ITunes. Grabbing the pool cue, she set up the pool table. Breaking the setup, she walked along the longer side of the table. Ivy grinned, knowing she could do this. But her back was to the door. Never saw the person who was watching her.
“That shot won’t work,”came a voice from behind her, startling her.
Ivy was in mid hit. The tip of the cue hit the table harder than she intended, and somehow knocked three balls off the table. They rolled across the floor. Somehow Ivy knocked two more off the table,one ending up under her foot. Not seeing any of them, she fell over them. The redhead tried to grab the table to stop her fall. Instead of the table, her hand grabbed the pool cue, which hit her in the face. Closing her eyes, she just gave up. She’d always been a huge clutz, lately much worse.
“Kinda had a break up with the pool table huh? I’m sorry Ivy. You ok?,” the voice asked.
Yup. It was gonna get worse. Now terribly embarrassed, she closed her eyes just sitting on the floor.
“Come on gorgeous,” he said, picking her up, carrying her to the sofa.
By this point, a tear or two escaped down her face. Ivy felt a finger gently wipe them away, feeling them get off the sofa.
“Here honey, drink this,” he said, putting a shot of Crown in her hand.
Ivy slammed the shot, feeling the burn hit her throat. Suddenly a cold compress was on her eye.
“You’re gonna have a shiner.”
“Fuck. How much did you see?”
“All of it. Sorry I scared ya Ivy,” he said,putting a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why were you playing so late?”
“I was trying to learn.Cherry and Half tried to teach me. I got worse. YouTube was an even worse teacher.”
Ivy felt a pair of arms give her a huge hug. Ivy hadn’t opened her eyes since she’d been lining up her shot.
“Are you always that clumsy?”, he teased as she sadly nodded.
He kissed her forehead, hugging her again,”Sorry doll. Never saw you in action before. Open your eyes Ivy. It might not be a bad shiner.”
Her deep green eyes adjusted to the light. It got worse. Why him? The one Son she had a thing for.Juice’s brown eyes showed concern and something else.
“Thanks for the help Juice. It’s late I really should be going.”
Ivy quickly stood, never seeing the small puddle of water from the ice pack. She slid but Juice caught her.
“I’ll teach you”
“After what you saw?”
“Yup.Come on,” he said grabbing her hand pulling Ivy to the table.”Show me what you can do”
After skipping balls and other things, Juice grinned. Moving behind her, showed her how to grip the cue, his fingers guiding hers.
“I think I know what’s wrong.”
It continued like this for a bit. Juice’s hands slowly moved, until Ivy was doing everything on her own. It wasn’t until Juice’s arms went around her waist. That she realized it. Pretending she didn’t, Ivy kept playing. Juice moved her hair and his lips attacked her neck. His hands ran up and down the sides of her body. Ivy put down the cue. One hand reaching behind her,resting on Juice’s head,as he left a trail of kisses from her neck to her shoulder.
“I should’ve done this a long time ago. If I’d have known,” he whispered in her ear.
Ivy grinned,”I should’ve asked. This lesson is getting better.”
Juice turned her around, pulling her as close to his body as possible and kissed her. Ivy pulled back to catch her breath.
“Wait until you get my bill for this lesson,” he teased.
“Am I going to be able to afford your prices?,”she asked.
A smirk crossed his face as he turned her towards the dorms,”We are working out a hard payment plan,” he said turning her around and kissing her.
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