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thirtysomethingloser92 · 7 months ago

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Bittersweet Symphony: Chapter 2.

"You're so beautiful like this," You looked over at the man sitting at his desk, a small smile across his face, illuminated by the small lamp. "Like what? Sleep deprived, haven't showered in 3 days, living off energy drinks and spite?" You joked, shifting a bit self consciously on the leather couch. Rafael gave a small chuckle, "Like you. Looking at you like this, I don't think you've ever looked so beautiful,"

“You need to eat,”.

Carisi’s voice next to you brought you out of your self-induced misery. The cursor on the computer screen blinked a few times before you turned to face your partner. “I ate,” you argued, pulling out a packet of rice paper biscuits.

“You know, when my sister was pregnant, there was this little bakery a few blocks from her apartment that made these scones with ginger and chamomile. I’ll see if they still make them and bring them over some time.”

You smiled weakly at his thoughtfulness, but your stomach turned at the thought of food. “Thanks, Sonny, but I’m fine. Really. Me and food aren't really getting along at the moment.”

Carisi’s eyes softened with concern. “You need to eat,” he repeated gently. “It’s not just about you anymore.”

You sighed, knowing he was right. The stress from the ongoing case had been overwhelming, leaving you nauseous and exhausted. All you wanted was to go into the back room and sleep the rest of the day away. Just as you were about to respond, Carisi reached out and took the packet of rice paper biscuits from your hand, replacing them with a granola bar from his pocket.

“At least try this,” he urged. “It’s got nuts and dried fruit. Better than those biscuits. More nutritious for you and the baby.”

You took the granola bar, unwrapping it slowly. The sweet, nutty apricot smell was surprisingly appetizing. You took a tentative bite, and to your relief, it went down easier than expected.

“Better?” Carisi asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Thanks, Sonny.”

He smiled, the worry lines on his face easing. “You know I’m here for you, right? Whatever you need, just let me know. I'll bring some more of those over to you later on.”

“I know,” you said softly. “And I appreciate it. More than you know.”

He patted your shoulder gently. “Good. Now, let’s take a five-minute break. We’ve been at this for hours, and you need to relax.”

You nodded, grateful for the reprieve. The two of you walked to the break room, where Carisi made a pot of herbal tea. As you sat together, sipping the warm tea, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

“You’re a good friend, Sonny,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence.

He chuckled. “Just doing my job. Can’t have my partner running on empty, especially now.”

The sincerity in his words touched you deeply. You knew he wasn’t just talking about the job; he genuinely cared about your well-being, you knew that all he wanted was what was best for you and the small being inside you. The past few weeks he had been the one constant in your life, from the moment you told Liv and the look of shock on her face "Is it-?", to Amanda giving you tips and offering you her daughters old baby clothes "I know you've only just gone into your second trimester but its better to be over prepared then under prepared trust me,".

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you said, feeling a surge of gratitude.

“Anytime,” Carisi replied with a warm smile. “We’re in this together. I told you this. It's you, me, the fetus in there and even Barba if he ever gets his head out of his ass” There was a silence that fell between you, and you knew what was coming next, "Have you heard from him?" You paused mid chew,

the granola bar suddenly feeling like lead in your mouth. You took a slow sip of tea, trying to buy yourself a moment to compose your thoughts. “No, I haven’t,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carisi’s expression was a mix of concern and frustration. “It’s been weeks, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, avoiding his gaze. The pain of Rafael’s absence was a constant ache in your chest. “I thought he’d come around by now, but… nothing.”

Carisi sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I know he’s got his reasons, but this isn’t fair to you. Or the baby. Have you asked Liv if she had heard from him?” You gave a small shrug, "Lets be real for a moment, if she had heard from him she would still leave it up to him to come to me. She wouldn't tell me,"

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I just don’t understand how he can be so distant. I thought we were in this together.”

“People react to things in different ways,” Carisi said gently. “But that doesn’t make it any easier for you.”

“I just wish he’d talk to me,” you murmured, feeling the familiar wave of sadness wash over you. “I don’t even know if he wants to be involved anymore. I feel like my whole life is on pause waiting for him. Whether it be waiting for him to call me, or to come back or something. I feel like I'm just stuck in this space and I can't even move on from him until I get some type of closure”

Carisi reached out, taking your hand in his. “Listen, no matter what happens with Rafael, you’re not alone. You’ve got me, and you’ve got the squad. We’ll get through this together.”

“Thank you, Sonny,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re stronger than you think,” he replied with a reassuring smile. “But I’m here for you, every step of the way.”

<:>

Later that evening, as you sat alone in your apartment, the silence was deafening. You picked up your phone, scrolling through old messages from Rafael, trying to make sense of his sudden withdrawal. Your heart ached with longing and confusion. Finally, you decided to call him, hoping to break the silence.

The phone rang a few times before going to voicemail. You took a deep breath and left a message, your voice trembling. “Rafael, it’s me. I just… I need to know what’s going on. Please, call me back. We need to talk.”

You hung up, feeling a mix of relief and dread. You had put yourself out there, and now all you could do was wait. As the minutes turned into hours, the weight of uncertainty settled heavily on your shoulders. <:>

The next morning, you arrived at the precinct feeling more exhausted than usual. Carisi noticed immediately, his brow furrowing with concern. “Any news?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. “No. Nothing.”

He sighed, pulling you into a comforting hug. “I’m sorry. But remember, we’re here for you. Whatever happens, you’re not alone.”

As the day wore on, you threw yourself into work, trying to keep your mind off the unanswered questions and unspoken words. But every time your phone buzzed, your heart skipped a beat, hoping it was Rafael.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that you finally received a text. Your hands shook as you opened the message.

“Can we meet? - Rafael”

<:>

You couldn’t stop the constant twisting and turning of your stomach. Despite how hungry you felt- the rumbling in your stomach reminding you that you’ve barely eaten anything all day-you couldn’t help the small gag that came over you when the coffee was brought to your table.

God you felt so angry.

The white hot anger that twisted and turned in your stomach with every breath you took. You wanted to yell, you wanted to scream, you wanted to shake him and ask him why you weren’t good enough.

Why did he abandon you?

The silence between you and the man in front of you made your heart ache, conversation between you both used to flow so easily but now, now you couldn’t find a single word to say to him. You knew there was so much you wanted to say, to tell him. There was so many questions you wanted to ask him. So many Why’s you needed answers to, but nothing could come out of your dry lips.

“Is it mine?”.

The words left his mouth quietly, as if he was ashamed for asking. Your head shot up, meeting his brown eyes with your own, the question lingering in the air between you.

Is it mine?

Those words made you feel a hatred you hadn’t ever felt towards Rafael Barba. Not when you first met, not when you would be left red-faced after a lashing from the former ADA, not ever.

“What do you mean is it mine? Of course it’s yours. There isn’t anyone else I’d-“ you swallowed deeply, looking back into the brown liquid inside the cup before pushing it away from you, the smell making you want to regurgitate what little food Carisi managed to shove down your throat before you came.

“Where were you?” You heard your voice break, you wished that you had gotten a glass of water in before starting this conversation. The tears started welling up in your eyes, “I needed you and you weren’t there. Not just for this but for so much more. I woke up, and all you had left me was a note. No one had known where you had gone and I thought-“ You swallowed deeply and began picking at your nails, an anxious trait you had inherited from your grandmother, “I don’t even think it matters anymore. You made your choice,” You stopped picking your nails and looked up, seeing him look at you with an indescribable sadness across his face.

“Of course it matters. I hurt you and for that nothing I do can make up for it. After what happened I couldn’t put you through that. Could you have really been with someone who was labelled a baby killer?” He gave a sarcastic scoff, “I love you. I could never have asked you to give up your career to come with me. To run away with me,”

“But I would have,” You didn’t hesitate to interject, “If you would have asked me to resign and come live in the middle of nowhere with you then I would have,” Your voice rose slightly earning glares from the few patrons in the cafe, “But you took that choice from me thinking you were doing some noble shit. And now I’m pregnant, trying to make decisions that I can’t make by myself. I was alone, I was heartbroken and you weren’t there,”

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t. But I’m here now, I’m here to support you whatever you choose to do,” He went to reach across the table for you but you moved away. The thought of the man you once loved touching you made your skin crawl, you saw who he was and it made you feel sick.

His hand moved back to his cup, “Are you keeping it?”

You let out a small sigh and nodded, “Yep. I don’t-I don’t think I could go through with it. I thought about it, especially since you made it pretty clear you want nothing to do with me, but this is what I’m doing. I'm just over 14 weeks now, so either way this is where we're at. Whether it be with you as co-parents or without you,”

“I was hoping we could talk about that?”

You raised a single eyebrow, motioning for him to continue.

“There wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t think about you, or what you were doing. I never stopped loving you,”

“Yeah you did. You stopped loving me the day you walked out. I’m not doing this again. I let you in, it took us so long to get where we were. It took years for us to be together and you threw it away because of your ego and your assumptions. I won’t make the same mistake again,” You reached into your small black purse, ruffling around for some bills for the untouched decaf.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll pay,” Rafael stated simply.

You stood up, a bit unstable in your feet as vertigo hit; you paused for a moment before turning to face the man across from you, “The difference between you and me is that when I said I’d love you forever I meant it. You just don’t seem to get it, what you’ve done. You think that you can come back and walk into my life and nothing has changed. But Rafael everything has changed; everything has changed between us. Do you know what I think? I don’t think you came back here for me, I think you came back for something else. Otherwise where were you weeks ago when I called you?” For the first time since you've known him, there was no words which had left his mouth. No sarcasm or sass, no sincerity or words that could make your heart stop in your chest. There was just silence from him. A silence which made your heart break and your decision final. "Did Liv call you here?" You asked with an air of finality, your voice trembling but resolute. You needed to know, even if it shattered the last remnants of hope you clung to.

Rafael’s face contorted with a mix of guilt and sorrow. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The silence between you stretched, thick and suffocating.

“That’s what I thought,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him. The reality of the situation washed over you, leaving you feeling hollow.

“Please, let me explain,” Rafael finally managed, his voice barely audible. “Liv did call me. She told me about your condition, how you were struggling. She thought I should know. But I came back because I needed to see you, to try and make things right.”

You shook your head, a bitter smile forming on your lips. “You had every opportunity to come back on your own. But it took Liv calling you to get you here. That says it all, doesn’t it?”

“I know I failed you,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting you from my mess, but all I did was hurt you more. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change what happened,” you replied, the anger and hurt bubbling up again. “Sorry doesn’t change the fact that you abandoned me when I needed you the most. I can’t trust you, Rafael. Not anymore.”

He looked down at his hands, clasped tightly around his coffee cup. “I understand. I just… I want to be there for our child. I want to make things right, if you’ll let me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I appreciate that you want to be involved now, but it’s too late for us. I can’t go back to the way things were. But for the sake of our child, we can try to co-parent. We can try to make this work for them.”

Rafael nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I promise.”

You stood up, feeling a strange sense of relief mixed with sadness. “We’ll see. But for now, I need some space. I need to figure out how to move forward from this.”

He rose as well, looking at you with a mixture of regret and hope. “I understand. Take all the time you need.”

You turned and walked away, leaving Rafael standing there in the café. As you stepped outside, the cool air hit your face, and you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the past few weeks slowly lifting off your shoulders. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you knew you had the strength to face whatever came next.

#rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #sonny carisi x reader #pregnant reader #raul esparza #dominick sonny carisi #rafael barba

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lisbeth-kk · 5 months ago

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Sherlock fandom

The Key to His Heart

It is often said that the key to a man’s heart, goes through his stomach. Well, that doesn’t apply to the man who owns my heart, and vice versa. By all means, we do indulge in culinary treats.

In our younger days, it was heaps of take-away; Indian, Chinese, Indonesian. Never Italian, though. Angelo would’ve been devastated if we sought out Italian food somewhere else.

And there were of course the sweets, to satisfy the madman I lived with.

(Still lives with, to be clear.)

Ginger nuts, jammy dodgers, scones, Mrs. Hudson’s home baked cakes and biscuits, tiramisu, chocolate mousse, and sticky toffee pudding.

But I’m rambling. My madman, the great Sherlock Holmes, still doesn’t eat the amount of food I would like him to. He still claims that it slows him down. Not that he has places to be nowadays. If you don’t count his beloved beehives that is.

I seem unable to keep my thoughts collected on one topic today. The thing I was going to tell you about, was how I, John Hamish Watson, was given the key to the detective’s heart.

Everyone thought we were a couple from the day I moved into Baker Street. Quite a lot of them took it as a personal insult, when we, well, mostly I, objected to the assumption.

“Not gay!” I shouted out to anyone who cared to listen.

Few did, but the one that mattered the most, always listened. It still hurts to think about.

Sherlock is interested in all kinds of things, but the thing that has stuck with him since childhood, is the fascination for bees. I was stunned when he told me about it quite early in our acquaintanceship. Living in London assured that we didn’t come across them very often, unless we walked the parks. We mostly ran through the parks, always chasing the bad guys. That was a relief, because I was terrified of the tiny creatures.

“How is that possible? You invaded Afghanistan,” Sherlock protested when I told him.

“Well, childhood trauma isn’t that easily forgotten, Sherlock,” I stated.

When I was eight years old, I was stung by dozens of bees. I had been fighting with Harry, and she pushed me against our uncle’s two beehives. The push was hard, and both hives fell to the ground. I can still recall the angry buzzing and the bees’ fierce attack. It was summer, and I was only wearing a pair of shorts…

Enough about my childhood horrors.

It took me too long to realise that I loved Sherlock. Even when he came back from the dead, I acted like I hadn’t grieved him like a lover.

Keep calm and carry on.

Sherlock’s sudden illness, which forced him to stay in bed for almost a fortnight, made us both come out of our shells. His high fever made him hallucinate, and he was quite talkative throughout. He pledged his love for me numerous times a day, mostly in his sleep, so I didn’t put much into the declarations. I worked it out in the end and did some pledging myself.

He wasn’t entirely convinced at first. The not gay statement still lingered in his mind, and he was reluctant to do more than occasionally holding my hand and hug me. So, I decided to convince him. I just had to get Harry on board. She was surprisingly amenable to my suggestion to buy her share of our uncle’s cottage, which we both had inherited some years previous.

Sherlock didn’t know about it. I had almost forgotten about it myself by that time.

The cottage was called “In the Meadows”, and the name fit perfectly. It was surrounded by them on three sides, and said meadows needed some taming. Nobody had lived there for at least three years. An old neighbour had kept an eye on it, though, so it wasn’t in total decay. It needed some loving hands, which I hoped Sherlock and I could provide.

I took him down to Sussex one sunny Saturday in May. The neighbour had assured me that beehives were in place, and the gear needed to tend to them.

“Happy belated birthday, Sherlock,” I said when we stood outside the house.

“What do you mean, John?” he asked, too stunned to deduce and observe properly.

“It’s for you. Or us, really,” I told him.

I was so anxious for his reaction.

The blinking came first. I had anticipated that. What came as a total surprise was the kiss once he had spotted the hives.

He turned to face me, cradled my face, and pressed his lips softly against mine. I almost stopped breathing but finally got my arms to work and circled them around his waist.

“My John. You…how…but you’re terrified of…” Sherlock stuttered after he broke the kiss.

“Well, I’ll just have to trust you to protect me for once, then,” I murmured, still dazed from the tender kiss.

“Do you really love me that much, John?” Sherlock inquired.

“More than anything,” I told him, which lead to further kisses.

If you wondered; yes, we’re both retired, and our address isn’t 221B Baker Street anymore, but “In the Meadows”, Sussex.

-------------------------------------------------------

This is also my entry to the Sherlock Challenge of July, prompt: key.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @sherlockchallenge @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno

@helloliriels @raina-at @meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler

@topsyturvy-turtely @jolieblack @peanitbear @phoenix27884 @bs2sjh

@brandiwein1982 @meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl @221beloved @ninasnakie

@shy-bi-inlovewithregandmoony @lhrinchelsea @missdeliadilisblog

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or untagged)

#flash fiction friday #sherlock challenge #sherlock fandom #sherlock #john watson #bbc sherlock #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #FFF263 #in the meadows #key

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endereies · 1 month ago

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DECORATING LOVE - MS

No Nut November - Day 18

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You and Matt decorate each other as cookies

The bell dinged lightly as he walked in, the sweet vanilla smell filling his nose. It was something about this place that felt so comforting. With the soft melody satisfying the silence, he took his gaze to the line-up of baked goods behind the counter. Dozens of bread rolls and cake slices were being preserved with tiles and glass covers, making them look as if they were just drawn out the heated oven.

“I’m sorry we are closed at the m- oh, hey Matt!” Both of your hands untied the bow behind your back before glancing up to see your boyfriend. After discarding the apron, he met you with a smile. “Hey pretty girl. You got room back there for one more?”

With a quick nod, you pull the side door open allowing him to walk through. “What are you doing, working here so late?” Looking around the back kitchen shows your previous efforts. Piping bags of icing stood in a line, circling some gingerbread men.

“Just icing, these have to set before I display them tomorrow but…I think I made a few too many cookies.” Matt followed your gaze to see two dozen extra cookies on their own tray. The amount of icing already made was clearly just for a couple batches. He’d seen you make these a million times and the thought of you accidentally making too many became humorous.

“is there anything wrong with them?” His hand reached over to pick one up. “Nope, they are all fine and with the same recipe, I just made too many. I don’t sell this much, especially during the week.” It wasn’t a crisis that you made too many, merely an inconvenience. You had all the resources to finish them all, but if they wouldn’t sell, why let them go to waste.

“It’s not the end of the world, baby. We could decorate a few, for ourselves. Nick and Chris may want some if you don’t want them to just go stale.” His mouth crunched into the leg of a gingerbread man. He sighed as the classic taste melted across his tongue. “Besides I’d be more than happy to finish these for you.”

A small giggle passed your lips as he spoke, watching him gather the few crumbs that fell from his lips. “You’d make gingerbread men, like decorate them?” Matt was hasty to nod.

“Obviously, I love watching you create things, I’d love to join in. Consider it a date night if you will. We could attempt to recreate the other person the best, plus we get a shit ton of sugar in our systems.”

“No complains from me.” The few trays that were decorated previous to Matt’s arrival were placed in the counter, covered and protected by the glass while you grabbed all the cheap icings and the homemade batch. The dining room table became full of sweet substances and half a dozen cookies. They were decently sized which gave both of you a chance to have accurate portraits.

You knew matt had a competitive streak and it showed. He was taking his time, looking up to study your face. He even grabbed your chin so you could face him while he matched the perfect shade for your eyes. He was beaming, adoring over both versions of you.

You were using a few spare tools lying about as well as a toothpick to flatten the icing as you laid it on the cookie. With a few years of training, the decorations end up with a cute brunette sitting on top the biscuit. However, Matt’s was a little messier, a few globs dotted for designs.

“I think you have to win that one baby” You giggled at the cute outfit he put you in, a black skirt and a baby pink top which was covered by an apron. Your hair was a mix of a few colours and you could’ve sworn there was a green tint to it.

“You taste good too” He bit the side of your head off savouring the ginger taste before clicking his tongue. “Fuck, too much icing.”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03 @slutf4rmatt @spaghetti835928383 @flouvela

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gilverrwrites · 11 months ago

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Supernatural Taste and Smell Headcanons

I included a lot of characters (I think 24?), but if your fave didn't make the cut, just send me an ask!

Dean

Smell: Leather, cinnamon, and the kind of musk that only comes from an axe body spray, cause you know what man only buys whatever is quick and easy at the gas station. He’d also smell like gasoline.

Taste: Malty like beer, but sweet in the way bbq sauce is sweet.

Sam

Smell: I just feel like (when he’d not hunting) he smells clean, ya know? Citrusy and woody, kind of like D&G light blue, with undertones of like a ‘fresh’ scented fabric softener.

Taste: Kind of fruity but tart, like a berry smoothie. Also just a little bit of like garlic, or mustard.

John

Smell: That man is a smoker, and you can’t tell me otherwise – at least later in life, way after the marines, and losing Mary. He always has a stale smoke smell on his clothes and lips. I recon he uses old spice or similar as an aftershave, so also like cloves/sage.

Taste: Again smoky, ashy, but also oaky and malty like bourbon.

Mary

Smell: Citrusy like Sam but darker, smokier (joke not intended) with hints of like jasmine, bergamot, and a little bit of vanilla. 100% the kind of smell that wraps you up if you come in for a hug.

Taste: Chocolate, specifically the kinds with nuts and caramel, woman has a sweet tooth.

Castiel

Smell: I feel like all angels smell at least a little like parma violets, or some kind of sweet and subtle floral smell, be especially Cas. On top of that, he’d have like other earthy scentes, like honey, patchouli, maybe a bit of amber.

Taste: Coffee, always coffee. When human/when he eats; grape jelly, and honey.

Jack

Smell: Like Cas he has the sort of clean, floral scent to him. I also think he would smell of peppermint and like a yankee candle version of warm vanilla. He just has a cosy, familiar smell to him.

Taste: Again I think minty, additionally like white chocolate and rose/flora flavours.

Bobby

Smell: Like old books, burnt candle wicks, motor oils, and nose hair singing whisky.

Taste: More than anyone else on this list (including Crowley) Bobby tastes like whisky. Not the good stiff though, that’s only for special occasions. He taste like Jim Beam and Jack Daniels.

Crowley

Smell: Like a bonfire!!! Smokey, warm, woody, with a hint of burnt sugar.

Taste: 100% Whisky, and dark chocolate.

Charlie

Smell: Charlie smells like she just stepped out of a fantasy book, like wildflowers, and peppercorn. Like strawberry and blackcurrant wine.

Taste: Like a vegan alternative to Nutella, creamy, chocolatey, nutty.

Meg

Smell: Surprisingly soft and clean. Milky, with almond and peach. Just a hint of leather and cedarwood underneath.

Taste: Salty and sweet, anise: like a strawberry liquorice.

Ruby

Smell: Like cedarwood, ginger, and pink pepper. Pleasant but sharp, and strong. Like it pulls you in from across the room.

Taste: Bold and sweet like cabernet sauvignon, starkly contrasted by pepperoni and cheesy pasta.

Lucifer

Smell: Similar to Jack, in that he smells clean and minty. However, his is sharper, harsher. There is lime, and moss, and mahogany.

Taste: Like pure Moroccan mint, with that like sweet sourness you get on things like a tangfastics or a sourpatch kid. Like if you’re not expecting it, or you taste it for to long it will make you squirm.

Gabriel

Smell: Like walking into the kitchen of a bakery just before opening and they’re prepping everything. Mocha, malted sugar, rich caramel, creamy vanilla.

Taste: All of the above again! Just so sweet and creamy. Like a spoonful of sugar.

Raphael

Smell: Very similar to Cas, floral, but less earthy, and more sterile. Like aloe vera and antiseptic.

Taste: Again, very clean. He has a flavour the way cucumber has flavour? Refreshing, clean, but not notable.

Michael/Adam 😍

Smell: Kind of like the ocean, meets the forrest. Musk, white lilies, salt, collided with pine, sandalwood, and cedar. Cold, but familiar, ya know?

Taste: Hear me out: Fruit loops, and Dr Pepper. Like Michael has little say over what they eat, that’s all on Adam. And after the initial, ‘I haven’t eaten in 1200 years, I’m gonna eat everything I craved’ has worn off. He’s just like, a normal guy (who does not need to eat because he shares his body with an immortal angel). So, I can see him mostly reaching for snacks that make him feel good, that remind him of his mum, or his childhood, something comforting; like sugary cereals and fizzy drinks. I love them, I will take no criticism.

Rowena

Smell: Like an apothecary. Rich and indulgent. Very aromatic with lots of deep woody tones, sweet cherry, dark rose and other florally scents.

Taste: Like a bottle of mataro, or Nebbiolo wine. Spice, cherry, plum, smoke. She both smells and tastes intoxicatingly expensive.

Chuck

Smell: Kind of musky, cottony, leafy. I don’t really imagine him smelling too strongly of anything.

Taste: Summary and tart, like a sea breeze cocktail. (Grapefruit, cranberry, lime – an acquired taste)

Amara

Smell: Similar to Chuck, I sort of envision an absence of smell. Maybe just hints of amber, sandalwood, and a musky citrusy scent.

Taste: Like a white dessert whine, like Riesling. Dry but sweet. Honey, and pears.

Billie

Smell: Bergamot, rose, silk, and cocoa. Inviting and pleasant, but with an undertone of darkness.

Taste: Very similar to scent, sweet and warm but with an aftertaste of something bitter; blackcurrant and dark chocolate

Benny

Smell: Robust (Copper, ginger, tobacco,) but enticing (amber, cardamom, cinnamon).

Taste: I mean, I have tried really had to not add blood to any of the previous entries, but Benny undeniably tastes like blood.

Kevin

Smell: Not good. Pre-prophethood, not so much; I imagine like mint, green tea, jasmine, the kind of smell you would expects from a reasonably priced aftershave. During prophethood, the aftershave is long forgotten; its more fried chicken, old paper, and forgetting to shower for 9 days.

Taste: Like redbull, chexmix, and mouthwash.

Eileen

Smell: Like peaches, and roses, rich chocolate, and strong coffee.

Taste: Chocolate and coffee again, but hints of sparkly summer fruits.

Ketch

Smell: Like high end British aftershaves only the royal family know off, something with notes of fig, and oud, and other pretentious smells. The small of cigar smoke, and leather follow him around too.

Taste: Like earl grey tea, and dry gin.

Balthazar

Smell: Kind of like ketch, some high end and expensive (if he actually had to pay for it). But woodsier, and fresh. He would also have that hidden undertone of violet.

Taste: Creamy and hazelnutty, but there’s a constant aftertastes alcohol, and something metallic to him, no matter what comes first.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural headcanon #supernatural headcanons #spn headcanon #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural angels #supernatural archangels #supernatural demons #gilverrwrites

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lahooozaherr · 2 years ago

Text

Chick at a Rock Concert

Pairing: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels x Fem!Agent!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.8k

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNT WILL BE BLOCKED.

Summary: You’re a Kingsman agent and tag along for a mission at a music festival, looking for a distraction after the lingering loss of your fellow agents. Jack takes immediate notice of you, sparking a mutual attraction between the two of you. When he’s rejected by the “chick at a rock concert”, you take the opportunity to spend the day with him. That day leads into a night of even more fun.

Warnings: fem!reader, soft dom!Whiskey, age gap sorta (Age not specified for reader, Jack’s ego is just bruised), daddy kink if you squint (Jack refers to himself as it a few times, no hard feelings if you wanna just replace the word in your head because this isn’t a ddlg dynamic), praise kink, smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, soft turning into rough sex, cockwarming, dirty talk, pet names, no physical description of reader and “festival outfit” is left vague, smol amount of angst

A/N: I’m ngl this is pretty self indulgent. It’s been a brain rot simmering in my head for a few weeks. I just have a feeling Jack would go nuts over someone who tries to match his energy while wearing one of those sexy music festival outfits lol. Jack is one of my faves and I hope I’m able to do him justice. I’ve debated making this a one shot series or something to weave into the story of the movie but we’ll see lol. I did my best to keep the reader’s “backstory” vague. This is also my first smut, so kind-of practice for when I get to that point in my current Mando WIP. Also not beta read :D

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Read it on AO3

The mission was pretty simple, and you probably weren’t needed for it. But the previous days for you and your very few remaining Kingsman peers had been a disaster, to say the least. You volunteered to come along, knowing it was at a popular music festival. It was still work but it was also the small “break” you needed to have a moment away from the grief and sadness over losing so much. You just needed something, anything, to help forget for the time being.

You picked out a cheeky festival outfit, not uncommon for these kinds of events. Might as well try to blend in, you told yourself. Weaving through the crowd, you set to find Eggsy through the sea of eccentric festival goers.

—

Eggsy had too much on his mind and was reeling from the current realization of how this mission was about to go down. Agent Whiskey demonstrated with his fingers and a subtle explanation of how to plant the tracking device on the target.

“Where is that other agent of y’all’s?” Whiskey asks, an undertone of annoyance in his voice as he takes a swig of his flask.

Eggsy stops walking, “she should be meeting with us any minute now. She told me she’s here already.”

Whiskey and Eggsy, while looking for you, had also spotted the mission's target. A woman lounging at one of the many outdoor bars of the event. Eggsy’s heartbeat quickens, he’s dreading every minute of this. But this mission is too important and he knows that.

Jack scoffs, “takin’ her sweet time, our girl is right over there.”

“Ah! There she is!” Eggsy shuts Whiskey down. Before he can continue to complain, he looks up towards you. His jaw hangs a little after Eggsy points you out as you stride towards them.

This was your first time physically meeting Whiskey, despite technically being in the same room as the “meeting” with Statesman’s leader, Champ. But you didn’t have glasses at the time that would allow you to see a projection of him in his seat. You couldn’t help but stare back at him as you got closer to the two.

Ginger warned you about him when she helped you set up for this mission. Telling you he’s a huge flirt and will likely make a pass at you. You didn’t exactly mind though, you weren’t afraid of a flirtatious encounter. You requested to read his file and after doing so, you really felt for him. You wanted to see the good in others, to understand them. And based on his past you could tell he’s been through a lot, and it’s probably complicated. You could at least empathize with him.

Aside from that, what’s wrong with wanting to have some fun? Maybe you both could help each other forget, just a little bit.

He drank in the sight of you in the outfit you’d chosen, and suddenly you were not regretting it because you could tell. You found yourself doing the same to him. He’s attractive, broad shouldered and golden skinned. He wore a Stetson, white T-shirt, leather jacket and jeans that did a beautiful job of capturing the shape of his slender hips and legs. A sharp nose and jawline, clean shave save for pouty lips with a perfectly groomed mustache atop them.

Approaching them, you sigh, “so sorry to make you guys wait, this place is packed!”

Whiskey seemed to be momentarily frozen until Eggsy breaks the silence with a clearing of his throat. He introduces you to him by your code name and actual name.

“And uhm, this is Agent Whiskey-“

“Jack. Jack Daniels.” Cutting Eggsy off while taking a large step towards you, not hiding the way his eyes take a quick look at you, up and down. He holds his hand out for you and you take it with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” Hearing you choose to use his actual name sends a thrill through him. A grin creeps across his lips, “darlin’, the pleasure is all mine.” He lifts your hand to his lips to leave a small, chaste kiss. You can’t help but giggle, both at the act and Eggsy giving a very exaggerated eye roll from behind him.

Jack’s eyes are a dark, chocolate brown and you don’t break the eye contact he maintains with you. They almost sparkle.

“Anyways, our target is right over there.” Eggsy interjects. Jack jerks upright and clears his throat, letting go of your hand.

Jack takes a swig of his flask, “watch and learn, buddy.” He puffs his chest and struts towards the bar.

————————————————————————-

Watching Jack get rejected like that was…rough, to say the least. You couldn’t help but quietly snicker, watching Eggsy so swiftly capture the attention of the woman away from Jack’s failed attempt at hitting on her.

He frowns deeply and glares, walking away. You decide it’s safe to let Eggsy take the reins and catch up to Jack.

“I’m not going to lie, that was a little hard to watch,” you say to him. He stops walking and looks at you, unamused. You shrug it off and continue, “that’s ok though. Why don’t we enjoy the festival?”

Jack lets out a deep sigh and turns his head, “darlin’, you don’t want to hang out with an ‘old man’ like me.” The way he says the words “old man” is a mocking echo of what Eggsy had called him in front of that woman. Dang, he took that pretty personally. You imagine you probably would too, if you were in his shoes.

You decided to take this opportunity to rekindle the flame on that brief “chemistry” you had with him earlier. You boldly insert one of your arms into his elbow.

With a lilt in your voice, batting your lashes at him you say, “I prefer men who are experienced, anyways.”

That seemed to do the trick of snapping him out of this small depressive slump. That sparkle returned to his eyes and his smile widened, revealing his perfect white teeth.

“Oh sugar, I can be that and more.” He wraps his free hand around yours in the crook of his elbow and you both continue on into the crowd.

—————————————————————————

At some point, after wandering for a bit, you both found a space in the grass field, a far distance out from one of the stages. Both of you are lounging and basking in the sun. Hours had passed before you had realized it, the two of you were too distracted by each other and your conversation to even notice.

Jack’s personality was provocative, fiery and passionate. His cheesy pick up lines worked on you, in a way. He took joy in sharing interesting stories he kept up his sleeve that hooked your attention. He described various close calls he’d had in the field, especially from when he was younger. You listened intently and never broke away from him.

He laid out on his back, arms braced behind himself in the grass. Next to him, you’d opted to rest on your front, propped up on your elbows and your legs kicked up behind you. The angle giving him a front row seat to your cleavage.

Here and there you’d notice the way he’d look you up and down, but you preened under his gaze. There was an obvious attraction between the two of you and neither of you tried to hide it.

When you were deep in telling your own story, one that caused you to shift into sitting on your bottom, he took one of your hands in both of his large hands. He rubbed his thumbs across your knuckles and carefully inspected your palm and fingers, absentmindedly, as you spoke.

You let out a deep sigh, “spending time with you today has been a breath of fresh air, thank you.” That might have come out more sentimental than you intended but life has been a wild ride lately. “I don’t know whether I’m going up or down anymore….”

Jack’s facial expression softens and he squeezes your hand in one of his, “anytime, darlin’. In some ways, I’ve been in your shoes before. It never gets easier.” His tone was even and more serious. You knew he understood. It comes with the type of job you’ve both found yourselves in.

“However,” you start, “I’m thankful we found the Statesmen. I don’t know what we’d be doing if it weren’t for you all. I don’t know if finding who did this will fill the hole in my heart but something has to be done.”

Jack sits up and leans towards you, “a hole in your heart, huh?”

Your face heats up, “I-I mean, that’s the best way I can describe it I guess.”

“No no, I understand. I’ve just never heard it put that way….” He pauses, his eyes briefly drift off and then come back to yours. His other hand reaching to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, a shiver runs up your spine. You’ve lost yourself in his eyes and never want to come back up for air.

“Don’t you worry, sugar. We will make things right.”

—————————————————————————

This mission ended up being pretty easy, at least for the two of you it did. You felt bad for Eggsy. Jack later explained how and WHERE the tracker had to be placed, and you could imagine the inner turmoil that that had caused. Or even worse, the possible relationship problems it could cause for him.

When Jack described to you what he had told Eggsy to do with the tracker, your face heats up. Jack on the other hand, winked and flashed a white toothed grin. He had assumed he would be the one doing the deed but it looked like the universe had other plans, and you certainly didn’t mind.

The bright, sunny day had started to fade into night. The sky progressed from a beautiful orange sunset into a deep purple. Some stars could be seen above the continuing hustle and bustle of the festival. You hadn’t heard from Eggsy since leaving him and you started to grow concerned. Standing off to the side of one of the festival's exits, you called him. Jack stood near you, hands on his hips as he waited.

Your call to Eggsy goes to voicemail and just as you’re about to hang up and try again, you get a text notification from him.

It’s done, I’ve let Ginger know. I’ll meet back up with both of you tomorrow.

You read this aloud so Jack could hear, he rolls his eyes and shrugs. You snicker, “are you really still bitter about him stealing your thunder?”

“Hey now….” He gently grabs your elbows and brings you close to him. Wrapping one hand around your waist and the other pinching your chin and stroking from your cheeks to your jawline. His eyes meet yours and they’re dark, reflecting his growing hunger. Whatever sass you were about to quip out immediately evaporates, leaving you a melting mess in his arms. Your own breath slowed and you returned his gaze under fluttering lashes.

His voice dips an octave and he stares deeply into your eyes, “Ol’ Jack never lost his thunder.” A shiver runs up your spine once again and you smile bashfully. Your eyes drifted to the side in an attempt to hide the flustered heat on your face. He hums, using his thumb and forefinger to delicately redirect your eyes back to his.

“Don’t hide from me.”

After a day full of flirting and building sexual tension, you make a snap decision. Bringing your arms up and draping them around his neck, chest against his. You hold his gaze a few seconds more while he adjusts his hands to sit on either side of your waist.

“Well then, Cowboy,” you say, echoing back the same low, husky tone. “Would you say ‘mission accomplished’?”

Jack hums in amusement, happy to see you rise to his challenge.

“Not yet, sugar. Still haven’t hooked up with a chick at a rock concert.”

It feels like a burst of butterflies in your stomach. Heat pooling in your stomach and thankful his hands are on you because otherwise you feel like you’d float away.

You flash him a sultry grin, “I think I can make that happen.” His face brightens as you shift your hands down from his shoulders to his firm pecs. His large hands explore up and down your back, his body is warm and inviting. You could smell the musk of his chosen cologne for today. Touching him like this after a day full of passive brushes and small gestures felt like finally drinking water in a parched desert.

“But on one condition,” you add, lowering your voice.

Jack quirks an eyebrow at you, “tell me, beautiful.”

Your eyes flick up to his hat and back down to him, his eyes following you. You maneuver yourself closer to his head, bringing your lips close to his ear.

“I want to wear your hat while I ride you,” you whisper.

The next thing you hear is a deep growl erupting from his chest. In one swift move he has one hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss. You mutually feel like a dam has finally broken.

The kiss is long as you both exhale and hum into each other’s mouths. He licks into your mouth and in return you gently bite his bottom lip, almost sending him into a frenzy.

Jack, almost painfully unlatches himself from you. His eyes meet yours, dilated and blown out on lust. A dark chuckle escapes his mouth and he pins you close to him with both hands behind your neck, using his thumbs to balance your jaw. The act itself sends arousal coursing furiously through your veins. You’re going to be a puddle before you can even leave the festival.

Jack grabs your hand and leads you alongside him, back to his Bronco. You both run and giggle like teenagers in love trying to sneak around. When you approach his car, he opens his passenger side door and lets you in. He dashes to the driver's side and buckles in.

With one hand on the steering wheel, he uses the other to wrap around you and bring you close to him, buckling you into the middle seat. Then, with smooth precision, he reverses out of his space and makes his way out of the parking lot and towards his hotel.

—————————————————————————

Jack’s Bronco screeches to a halt in the driveway of the hotel. Within seconds he exits and is at the passenger side letting you out.

He wraps his arm around you and brings you close into his side as he walks towards the entrance. His hand gives the meat of your thigh a small grip and you yelp. Jack throws his keys to the valet boy and struts inside.

Once at the elevator, Jack scans a key that sends it to the private suite up top. Of course he would have a private, fancy suite you think to yourself. You both enter the elevator, his hand on the small of your back guiding you in.

Once the doors closed, you’re on each other. A flurry of gnashing teeth and grabbing hands. He pushes you against the corner of the elevator with both hands on your waist. You wrap both arms around his neck, one hand stroking the hair at the nape of his neck, using his body to balance you.

His hand trails upward to grip the back of your neck, threading through the hair that grows there. He breaks away from your lips, using his grip to carefully tilt your head back, exposing your neck. Trailing heated kisses up and down, murmuring in between each.

Jack’s going to treat you right, don’t you worry babydoll.

I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.

You had been thinking about this all day too, unashamedly.

You moan when feeling his pelvis grind up against you. He’s already very hard and the sounds he pulls from you only serve to excite him further. Just as he’s about to slip a hand underneath the hem of your shirt, the elevator dings and opens up into the suite.

The hotel suite is massive. A living room with a kitchen to the side. Further in is a doorway to the suite’s master bedroom. The trip there becomes a mix of kissing, groping, and removing articles of just your clothing one by one until you’re brought to the edge of the bed wearing only your bra and panties. Looking around the room you see it break off into an open, large bathroom with a claw foot tub and glass door shower.

The back of your knees hits the edge of the mattress, with Jack gently pushing into you as you sit. Your hands come up to undo his belt buckle, but his hands grab yours to stop you.

“Not yet, gorgeous,” he says with a husky tone. “Daddy’s going to have his way with you first.”

You’ve decided you will never get tired of the nicknames. They cause your heart to hammer in your chest and you love every second of it.

Your arms drop back to your sides on the bed. Jack licks his lower lip and leans over to reach behind you to unlatch your bra. Once it’s free, he slowly slips it off your shoulders and discards it to the side.

He proceeds to gently guide you to lay on the bed. His hands grab under your knees to bring your legs up, feet resting on the bed. Finally, he loops both forefingers into the sides of your panties and pulls them off, joining your bra on the floor. Following that is his leather jacket.

Standing up straight and resting one hand on each of your knees, he pauses. His eyes rake you over and he hums.

“Lemme get a good look ‘atcha.”

The sight of you beneath him, naked and vulnerable, is downright breathtaking to him. Your breathing is heavy, your eyes hooded and lips parted and swollen. He’s proud to have been able to rile you up like this. He grabs his Stetson off his head and sets it on the other corner of the mattress.

Watching him look you over sends a buzz through your body and centers on your core. However, you need his touch, right now.

“Jack, please….”

“Please, what?” Thumbs tracing the inner sides of your knees. “Tell me, gorgeous.”

“T-touch me…” You manage to stutter out. “Please touch me, right now.”

Immediately, Jack drops to his knees on the floor and grips your thighs to scoot your bottom to the edge of the bed. He leaves small kisses on your inner thighs making his way to your heat. He goes right into it, flattening his tongue and running it up your folds. One hand reaches up to massage your breast, rolling his thumb over your nipple. You bite your lip in response.

It feels like a shock to your system, sending slick to gather between your thighs. Back arching, soft pants as you send a hand down to card through his soft hair. You suddenly feel one of his fingers circle your opening and insert. You almost cry out but stop yourself by biting the knuckles of your other hand.

“Jack….Jack, oh my god….”

“Mmmm gorgeous, you taste better than I had even imagined.”

His finger slides in and out, rubbing your clenching walls. Not too long after, he inserts another finger, earning another loud moan from you. The fire at the base of your spine rapidly grows brighter and brighter, causing you to involuntarily begin to buck against his face. His tongue and lips expertly sucking, licking and laving on and around your sensitive bud. His free hand sliding up to cup your knee and keep your legs apart.

You cry out and whimper the closer you get to your limit, beginning to see stars. You were not prepared for how good he is at this. His fingers grip the meat of your thighs and squeeze, holding you steady while he rubs his face deeper.

“You going to cum for me, sugar? Come on baby, I got’cha,” Jack cooes.

That’s enough to send you over the edge, feeling you clench down on his fingers as you climax. Murmurs of That’s it, show Daddy what you got through your loud moans. Your vision fades to black, you reward his ministrations with cries of Yes, yes…oh my god Jack, yes!

After working you through your first orgasm, he stands up and rests his hands on either of your knees. He watches your panting, heaving chest. His hands shoot forward, tenderly grabbing both of your breasts in his hands. You make a small, strangled noise in response and then hum.

“That was…..amazing,” you say between small gasps, still regaining your breath.

Jack smiles wide and crooked, “that’s just the start, gorgeous.”

Jack finally starts to really let go of his restraint with you, moving to make quick work of removing his clothes. When you attempt to sit up, his hand immediately pushes you back down and wags his finger with a tut from his mouth. “So needy. But I’m going to take my time.”

His words cause something between a moan and giggle to come from you, biting your lip while you watch him undo his ridiculous belt buckle. He sees you eyeing it and quirks an eyebrow, “Should I use this on you? Wrap it around your pretty wrists?”

A light forms in your eyes and you shake your head yes, excitement building in your stomach and between your thighs. “I’d love that, Jack.”

“I’m sure you would, darlin’,” he says silkily.

The last thing to be stripped off is his underwear, cock springing forward red and heavy.

Jack positions himself between your thighs, arms caging your head and your upper bodies melding together. His lips meet yours in a fevered kiss while you stretch your arms out above your head to give easier access to you.

His tongue runs along your bottom lip and you grant him access, his tongue quickly overpowering yours and licking into your mouth. It’s almost difficult keeping up with his passionate kissing.

Your eyes open to meet him when he stops and his gaze is still dark and hungry. Those warm brown eyes only added to melt you into the trembling mess you're becoming at his expert fingertips.

Jack starts to trail down your body, nipping and kissing your jawline, moving down to gently scrape his teeth across your collarbone. Taking one breast in one hand while the other supports him above you. He takes your nipple in his mouth and you arch into him, sending electricity through your nerves. Arousal starts to build back up in between your thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” Jack says breathily. “I can wait much longer. Are you ready for me, gorgeous?”

Your eyes cast down to meet him as he continues to lap at your breasts, “Yes Jack, please. I need you.”

“Welll….” He drawls. “Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t give my girl what she needs?”

Taking his length in his hand, he lines himself up with your opening, sliding it through your slick folds and coating himself. Then slowly, but surely, he begins to insert. The stretch around him feels amazing and takes your breath right out of your lungs.

Jack almost loses himself doing this, and he’s not even all the way in. Jack has quite a length himself, he knows this. Hence the need to prepare you like he did. He lets out a low groan from his chest as he buries himself in your wet cunt.

His face is right above yours, lips brushing as you breath in each other's air while he adjusts himself. You widen your legs to give him more space to sink himself in, he rolls his hips to enter gradually. After a few rocks of his hips, he’s into the hilt.

You can’t help but cry out and the sound is music to his ears. His hips start a steady, rolling pace with each thrust increasing the volume of your wanton moans. You can feel every inch of him dragging against your walls.

He feels almost impossibly deep as he picks up his pace. You arch your back from his bed, your chest becoming flush with his. The feeling of your soft breasts against his chest elicits a deep moan from the back of his throat.

One of his hands cups your cheek as he lowers his face to your ear on the opposite side. Just when you thought you couldn’t possibly take in any more different sensations, his hot breath fans over your skin while singing you praises.

Atta girl, that’s it, I’ve got you.

Oh you take me so well…so well.

Can you give me another? Come on gorgeous, I know you can.

The coil in your stomach tightens and tightens but you can’t seem to find the end of it. You open your mouth to say something but you’re not sure what. You just need more and more of him.

“Oh….I….” You can barely stutter out, your vision turning white. He nudges your temple with his nose then lays a sensual kiss.

“Do you need more? Tell Jack what you need.”

“Yes…yes please, I-I need more!” You finally manage to breathe out.

Jack’s eyes meet yours with a glint of mischief and a crooked grin to match. With one hand bracing above your head and the other snaking down to grip your lower back and waist.

“Hold on tight sugar and get ready to giddy-up!”

In a split second he stops thrusting, using his muscular body to swiftly roll over his side to his back while bringing you with him placing you on top. When adjusted, you allow yourself to sink down onto him, creating a whole new myriad of stimulation.

Jack marvels at the sight of you atop of him, puffing his chest in pride. Both of you breathily laugh as you adjust. A sheen of sweat has gathered across the soft skin of your body and shines in the lowlight of the bedroom.

At first you stay put, feeling the new depth of his cock inside of you. Conveniently, you remember what you told him earlier. You turn to find his hat still perched on the corner of the bed, stretching your arm out to grab it. He watches you carefully as you gently grab the top of his precious Stetson.

Turning back to look at him, flashing him a seductive look, you place his hat on top of your head. You lick your bottom lip and bite it, placing your hands on his chest to keep your balance. “Let’s go for a ride, cowboy.”

Jack grins back at you dangerously, “oh babydoll you’re going to be the death of me!”

He shifts and plants his legs into the bed, straightening his knees to give him leverage. He ruts his hips up into yours and sets a punishing pace, resulting in a loud, erotic moan erupting from your chest. Taking that as encouragement, he digs his fingers into your hips to keep you steady while the head of his cock strokes that spot deep inside of you.

The coil in your stomach starts to tighten again and you clench around him. You can feel your next orgasm start to barrel towards you. The sound of skin slapping and your mutual gasps and moans intertwining fills your ears. You haven’t broken eye contact with him and it only adds to the fire deep in his own abdomen.

Your legs start to shake as you cum hard around him, riding out the blissful shockwaves. His cock continuing to fuck up into you and giving the perfect amount of overstimulation for you to ride it out.

“Fuck! F-fuck, oh Jack-“

“Theeeere we go, that’s it, come on Sugar, you can take it!”

Jack takes one large hand and reaches out to rub his thumb against your clit, sending you over the cliff.

At the tail end of your explosive orgasm, you collapse onto his chest. He removes his hat to the side and wraps his arms around your torso, bringing his lips down to your ear to whisper again.

You did so good gorgeous.

Christ almighty girl, can you hear that? You’ve soaked me to the bone.

You begin to whimper and shake. Not sure what to do with your arms, you stretch them out behind you. Jack takes the opportunity to grab both wrists into one hand while the other is still wrapped around your back. Giving him just enough leverage to keep up with the pounding of his hips.

Jack’s own orgasm is very close, your overstimulated pussy fluttering around his length. His eyes roll to the back of his head, “I’m almost there sugar, w-where do you want me?”

You can barely speak while you dissolve into pleasure as you rest on his broad chest. You manage to spit out “inside…on pill….please, inside….”while burying yourself in the crook of his neck.

Jack’s position inside of you practically has his lower back hover above the bed with his legs keeping him up. He suddenly tenses up, hips stutter, and he finally crashes into his own orgasm. His thrusts begin to slow but ride out the pulsing of his cock as it shoots ropes into your tight, wet cunt.

With a loud, satisfied sigh, he relaxes onto the bed. Stretching his legs to rest on the plush mattress. You feel the deep rise and fall of his chest underneath your own. Lifting your head to see his eyes wrenching open to meet yours. He smiles, and you smile back, scooting up to kiss him. He welcomes your lips with a hum and molds his mouth around yours.

The two of you stay like this for a few moments, sated and content. You just know you’re going to be feeling him the next day and you’re sure he’ll love to know that.

Eventually his cock slips out of you as he rolls both of you to your sides, facing each other as closely as you can. He rubs his nose against yours and you giggle.

“Jack…that was phenomenal.”

“I know sugar, I was there,” he drawls, southern accent even more present.

You chuckle and playfully slap his shoulder, his hand reaches around to grab your ass cheek to bring you closer to him.

Jack brings his other arm up to wrap around you between the bed and your arm. He holds you close to him, planting a soft kiss atop your head.

“Thank you sugar,” he murmurs.

You rub your head into the crook of his neck, “thank you? For what?”

“For giving this ‘old man’ a chance.”

Your hand comes up to splay across his pectoral above his heart and you feel his quickened heartbeat underneath your palm. Your own heart is also rapidly beating in tandem. You then bring your hand up to caress his cheek, he closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“That girl has no idea what she missed out on,” you say, tenderly. “But I’m glad it ended up this way.”

Jack looks deep into your eyes and feels like his heart might burst. He didn’t mean to take the rejection so hard, but what he ended up with was far times better.

Be brings up the comforter on the bed to cover you as he slips out of it. You pout at him in protest, sitting up until he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, teasingly shushing you.

“Ssshh, sweet girl, just hold on tight for a minute.”

With a light kiss to your forehead as you lay back down, nestling yourself into the soft bed, he treks to the bathroom. You hear him rustling for a few minutes, the sink turning on and off and then the sound of the tub filling. He comes back with a cloth, you catch onto his intent and move the blanket to give him access. Softly, he cleans you up and then discards the cloth.

He offers you a hand and you accept it, letting him help lift you up from the bed to stand on shaky legs. You use both arms to grab him and he smirks, pleased with himself once again. Your legs feel like jello but you’re not complaining one bit.

He brings you to the tub, getting inside first and offering his hands to bring you in with him. You give a low hiss, feeling the hot water touch your skin as you sink into the water. You seat yourself between his legs and rest your back to his chest.

Both of you sigh in contentment, you rest your head back into his shoulder. His hand reaches to rest on your neck and rub his thumb along the hollow of it. He slowly places reverent kisses along your temple into your hairline.

Never, did you think this is how today would end up and you couldn’t be more thankful. Jack simultaneously excites and comforts you. Jack finds himself infatuated, you’ve possibly become the much needed balm for his aches.

“Oh shoot, we didn’t use your belt,” you laugh.

Jack smiles into your hair, “I was thinking we could use that next time…”

Your face falls, you turn your head slightly to face him. His eyes are affectionate and the corners of his lips turned up. You flutter your lashes and mirror back his expression, heart thumping harder in your chest. You didn’t mean to assume this was a one time thing but you’re thrilled to know he wants more of you. Will this lead somewhere interesting?

“I’d love that,” you whisper as he brings his lips down to yours, holding you in a long kiss. His thumb comes up to stroke your cheek and you deepen it. You turn your body towards his, sitting up and moving to straddle his hips. You break off the kiss to rest your hands on his shoulder as he rubs your back, pressing you tight against him.

Jack thought he might be scared to ever find love again. He’s not saying this is love, not yet exactly. But after years of one-night stands, not taking himself seriously and rejected flirting attempts, he’s tired. Ready for something fresh and new. He wonders how in the world your two worlds seemed to line up the way they did. Today might have started with a nearly instant sexual attraction, but it ended off with a full heart and ease he hasn’t experienced in a very, very long time.

Not since her.

And knowing you reciprocate that, enthusiastically, motivates him.

#agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x fem!reader #jack daniels smut #jack daniels #pedro pascal character fanfiction #kingsman the golden circle #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x female reader

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anonymousewrites · 4 months ago

Text

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 4) Chapter Eight

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eight: Long Wait

Summary: Reunited and back to working together, the Holmes and Watson families get back to solving cases.

“What you’re about to see is classified beyond top secret,” said Mycroft. “Is that quite clear?”

He stood behind (Y/N) and Sherlock and in front of a group of higherups in the British government. Before all of them, a TV was displaying (Y/N), Sherlock, and John’s final confrontation with Magnussen. The cameras of the snipers and helicopters had captured everything.

“Don’t minute any of this.” The secretary stopped moving. “Once beyond these walls, you must never speak of it. A D-notice has been slapped on the entire incident. Only those within this room, codenames Antarctica, Langdale, Lolly, Porlock, and Love, will ever know the truth. As far as everyone else is concerned, going to the Prime Minister and way beyond, Charles Augustus—” Mycroft looked sharply at Sherlock. “Are you tweeting?”

“No,” said Sherlock. “I’m ordering lollipops for (Y/N). I think they earned them as this point.”

(Y/N) perked up at the idea of sweets.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. “Will you take these matters seriously, Sherlock?”

“I am taking it seriously. What makes you think I’m not taking it seriously?” said Sherlock. His eyes landed on the table. “Are those ginger nuts? Love ginger nuts.” He took a handful.

“Our doctor said you were clean,” said Love.

“I had a misstep,” said Sherlock. “No need for stimulants now, though. I have work to do.”

“You’re high as a kite,” said Porlock.

“Natural high, I assure you,” said Sherlock. “I’m just glad to be alive and back with tolerable people.” He grinned at (Y/N), who nodded. He looked back at the group. “What shall we do next?” He pointed at the secretary. “What’s your name?”

“Vivian,” she said.

“What would you do, Vivian?” said Sherlock.

“Pardon?” said Vivian.

“Oh, whatever. (Y/N), what should we do?” said Sherlock.

“Pick up my lollipops,” said (Y/N), a fairly self-serving request but they wanted their snacks.

“Excellent, efficient answer,” said Sherlock.

“Mr. Holmes,” said Love sharply.

“Yes?” said Sherlock.

“We do need to get on,” said Love.

“Yes, of course,” said Mycroft, turning the recording on again.

On the TV, there was a clear view of (Y/N) standing before Magnussen with the gun in their hand. “And I’m (Y/N) Holmes,” said (Y/N) on the recording. Bang! There was a shot, but it was into Magnussen’s leg, not his head.

So they edited it, thought (Y/N). “Who shot him, then?”

“Some over-eager squaddie with an itchy trigger finger, that’s who,” said Porlock.

“That’s not what happened at all,” said Sherlock.

“It is now,” said Mycroft.

“For the record, which apparently doesn’t exist here, I don’t regret what I did,” said (Y/N), voice even with complete truth. They hadn;t taken pleasure in killing, but they didn’t feel bad about it, either.

“Remarkable. How did you do it?” said Love.

“We have some very talented people working here,” said Porlock. “If James Moriarty can hack every TV screen in the land, rest assured, we have the tech to doctor a bit of security footage. That is now the official version, the version anyone we want to will see.”

“No need to go to the trouble of getting some sort of official pardon,” said Love. “You and (Y/N) (L/N)—”

“Holmes,” said Sherlock and (Y/N).

“Holmes are off the hook,” finished Love.

“Okay, cheers,” said Sherlock, rising from his seat. (Y/N) followed suit.

“Obviously, there’s unfinished business,” said Love. “Moriarty.”

“Moriarty is dead,” said Sherlock.

“You believe he filmed the video before his death?” said Love.

“Yes,” said Sherlock.

“You also say you know what he’s going to do next,” said Love. “What does that mean?”

“Perhaps that’s all there was to it. Perhaps he was just trying to frighten you both,” said Porlock.

“That would be wishful thinking,” said (Y/N). “But no. Moriarty is the type of man to set up a trap for his opponents after his own death.”

Sherlock nodded. “He’s planned something long term. Posthumous revenge. Posthumous game.”

“We brought you back to deal with this,” said Love. “What are you going to do?”

“Wait,” said (Y/N).

“Wait?” repeated Love.

“We’re the targets,” said (Y/N). “So we wait until the next part of the game begins.”

“We’ll know when the game begins,” said Sherlock. “We always know when the game is on.” He and (Y/N) stepped out the door into freedom.

As they walked for a cab, (Y/N) glanced at Sherlock. “What is his endgame for a game after his death? What does he win if he’s dead?”

“Satisfaction at knowing he had us beat in some way,” said Sherlock. He glanced down and saw that (Y/N) was facing forward again. He looked forward as a cab pulled up, and his gaze hardened. What did Moriarty stand to gain if he was dead? He couldn’t get to (Y/N)—which was the reason Sherlock would never regret killing Moriarty (protecting (Y/N)), and he couldn’t know that Sherlock was losing. So what more was going on?

As ever, (Y/N) was seeing that there had to be more.

Sherlock just hoped that whatever it was wouldn’t hurt them. However, it was that—hope. Sherlock knew that whatever was coming was dangerous. He squared his shoulders.

He would protect (Y/N).

Wham! Sherlock stabbed through the stack of papers, happily attaching them to the mantel. “If this gets any better, we’re gonna get two knives.”

“It pays to advertise,” said John, typing up a blog post to say they were back to solving casing.

“So, what about Moriarty, then?” said Mary.

“Oh, I have a plan,” said Sherlock. “I’m going to monitor the underworld, every quiver of the web will tell me the spider’s moves.”

“I’ll just wait to be kidnapped. That seems to happen frequently when Moriarty is involved,” said (Y/N), twirling a lollipop around.

“It’s concerning that that’s a fact and not a joke,” said Mary, frowning. (Y/N) shrugged.

“Sherlock, your plan is to basically just sit there solving crimes like you and (Y/N) always do,” said John.

“Awesome, isn’t it?” said Sherlock, pleased with himself.

“Would you rather we do nothing?” said (Y/N).

John sighed.

Over the next nine months…

“He drowned. That’s what we thought. But when they opened up his lungs…”

“Yes?” said Mary (another addition to the Holmes household and detective agency).

“Sand,” said the client.

“Superficial,” said Sherlock.

Another time…

(Y/N) looking through the magnifying glass. “Come back, it’s the wrong thumb.”

And another…

“But—” said John.

“It’s never twins,” said (Y/N) and Sherlock.

And another…

“Hawkins, arrest Wilson,” said Sherlock on one video call.

“Dimmock, look in the lymph nodes,” said (Y/N) on another call.

“Wilson?” said Hawkins.

“Lymph nodes?” said Dimmock.

“You have a limbless torso, and there’ll be traces of ink left in the lymph nodes under the armpit,” said (Y/N). “If your corpse had tattoos, you’ll be able to tell there.”

“Bloody hell. Is that a guess?” said Dimmock.

“I don’t guess,” said (Y/N), closing the computer.

“So, he’s the killer,” said Hawkins to Sherlock.

“The canary trainer?” Sherlock scoffed. “Of course he’s the killer.”

“Didn’t see that coming,” said Hawkins.

“Naturally.” Sherlock closed the call.

“Sherlock, (Y/N),” said John sternly. “You can’t go on spinning plates like this.”

“We’re not. We’re solving cases,” said (Y/N). “Why would we spin plates?”

John groaned, and Mary tutted.

And some more…

“The heart medication you are taking is known to cause bouts of amnesia,” said Sherlock.

“Yes, I think so,” said the client. “Why?”

“Because the fingerprints on your brother’s neck were your own,” said (Y/N).

And even more…

“A jellyfish!” laughed John.

“Not our usual culprit,” remarked (Y/N).

“I know,” chuckled Sherlock.

“You can’t arrest a jellyfish,” said John, shaking his head.

“We could try,” said Sherlock.

“We did,” said (Y/N).

John’s phone vibrated, and he took it out with a frown before his eyes widened. “Oh, god.”

“Mary?” said Sherlock and (Y/N).

“Fifty-nine missed calls,” said John.

“We’re in a lot of trouble,” said Sherlock.

A few minutes later (with a lot of running and shouting), Mary was in the backseat of a cab, John and Sherlock were in the front, and (Y/N) was sitting beside her. Mary was in labor.

“Ow! Oh my god!” screamed Mary. “Oh, my god!”

“Relax. It’s got two syllables,” said John, trying to use the techniques they’d learned in classes.

“I’m a nurse, darling. I think I know what to do!” said Mary, gritting her teeth and trying to breathe.

“Re…lax,” said John.

“Oh, just drive! Please go. Just drive, god, driiiiive!” shouted Mary.

“Sherlock, (Y/N). Mary.” John glared at them.

(Y/N) cleared their throat. “Breathe?” they said hesitantly to Mary.

“Relax?” said Sherlock.

“Don’t you two start!” said Mary. Her head whipped towards John. “John, I think you have to pull over.”

“Mary, Mary—” began John.

“Pull over!” snapped Mary.

Baby Watson was born at seven minutes past one in the morning just below a road sign, next to a car.

And more time passed…

John and Mary smiled as they held the baby close. Mrs. Hudson took a thousand photos of them and cooed over the baby just as much as they did.

“So, what’s her name?” said Mrs. Hudson.

“Catherine,” said John.

“Oh, no, we’ve gone off that,” said Mary.

“Have we?” said John.

“Yeah,” said Mary, smiling.

“Oh.” John was smiling, too.

“Well, you know what I think,” said Sherlock, amused.

“Your name isn’t a girl’s name, and we already have one (Y/N),” said John.

(Y/N) smiled slightly. “I don’t think we need more.”

John looked at Mrs. Hudson. “Mrs. H, we would be honored to have you as a godparent if you’d be willing to.”

Mrs. Hudson smiled. “Really? Oh, that would be lovely.”

“And, uh…” John cleared his throat as he walked towards Sherlock and (Y/N). “You, too, Sherlock.”

"You too, what?” said Sherlock.

“Godfather. We’d like you to be godfather,” said John.

“God is a ludicrous fiction dreamt up by inadequates who abnegate all responsibility to an invisible magic friend,” said Sherlock.

“Yeah, but there’ll be cake. Will you do it?” said John.

“I’ll get back to you,” said Sherlock, but John just rolled his eyes fondly. He knew that Sherlock—who, despite it all, had fatherly instincts—would say yes.

Soon enough, Rosamund Mary was baptized, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson were godparents. And (Y/N), to the surprise of everyone (including Sherlock), turned out to be a surprisingly good babysitter. Rosie loved them pretty much instantly, much to the chagrin of Mary and John who had to try to get her to bed.

Despite all that had happened, for a few short months, everything was as it should be. The Holmes and Watson families were together and whole.

Taglist:

@stilesstilinskiforlife-blog

@im-making-an-effort

@ilse235

@schrodingers-intelligence

@awsedrftgyhujikol

@lxserthxngzzz

@forever1313

@mentallyunstablemanlover

@roo024

@ohimjustagirlidrathetnotbe

@snowy-violet

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velarisdusk · 5 months ago

Text

Shadows at Twilight

Nesta & Azriel

word count: 2.3k content: [ platonic nesta & azriel, modern au, mention of substance abuse (cocaine), physical altercation, strong language, emotional conflict, family tension, mental health issues, mention of abandonment, mention of smoking (marijuana) ] summary: Azriel and Nesta's Thursday night smoke sessions become a lifeline. As tensions rise, the fragile balance they've been trying to maintain begins to falter. author's note: stoner nesta came to me in a dream but of course i had to make it depressing ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The soft resonance of guitar strings filled Azriel's small apartment as the evening sun cast long shadows through the blinds. He sat on the edge of his worn couch, fingers absently plucking at the instrument while his eyes focused on the glowing screen of his laptop. With a heavy sigh, he closed the email—another rejection from a local venue.

“Thanks for your submission, but we're not looking for new acts at this time," Az muttered under his breath, mimicking the polite dismissal he'd read too many times before. He set the guitar aside and ran a hand through his dark hair, glancing at the clock on the wall. Nesta would be here soon.

He stood, stretching out the kinks in his back from hunching over his guitar for too long. As he moved to open a window, letting in the cool evening air, Azriel found himself thinking about how these Thursday nights had started — in the aftermath of Feyre, Rhysand, and Nyx's sudden disappearance. He recalled Nesta's frantic call that day, her voice strained with panic as she described the overflowing mailbox and the unanswered calls. She had demanded answers from him, but Azriel had been just as much in the dark.

The memory of that wellness check still felt surreal: entering the eerily quiet house with the police, only to find that impersonal note on the kitchen island. "We're leaving. Please don't look for us." Those words, so final and unexplained, had left a void in their lives that these smoke sessions had somehow started to fill. Az shook his head, pushing away the lingering questions. No use dwelling on it now. He was determined to keep the evening light.

The coffee table became a feast of their favorite munchies: salt and vinegar chips for Nesta, a mix of sweet and spicy nuts for himself, a couple of king-size Reese's cups they'd inevitably fight over, and some sour gummy worms for good measure. Az placed two cans of Cherry Coke next to Nesta's spot and a ginger ale by his. He knew they'd probably end up DoorDashing Taco Bell at some point—their crunchwrap cravings were pretty predictable—but it never hurt to be prepared. As Azriel pulled open the drawer beneath the table, revealing their well-used smoking paraphernalia, a knock sounded at the door.

“S’open!” he called out, quickly arranging the grinder, lighter, papers, and a small jar of pungent bud around the centerpiece.

"Hey," she said, making a beeline for the couch. "Sorry I'm late. Work was absolute chaos today. You wouldn't believe the client I had to deal with." Her hands fluttered as she spoke, the words tumbling out faster than usual. Azriel watched as she sat down, noticing the slight tension in her shoulders and her perfectly manicured nails tapping a relentless rhythm on her knee.

“No worries,” he said, tone neutral as he rolled them a joint each. “Rough day?”

Nesta shrugged, reaching for the TV remote. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Smiling Friends?”

Azriel leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he angled his body to catch her eye. "Hey, are you sure you're alright? You seem... off."

Nesta's shoulders stiffened slightly. "I said I'm fine, Az. Can we just watch the show?"

As she turned to face him, irritation flickering across her features, Azriel's eyes widened. Even in the dim light of the apartment, he could see her pupils were blown. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Nes," he said, his voice low and careful, setting the joint down. "What did you take?”

Her defensiveness flared instantly. "What's it to you?"

Azriel's brow furrowed, a mix of concern and dry humor in his tone. "Well, I’d like to know if I should be ordering pizza or calling poison control. Seriously, what’s going on?” His eyes narrowed as he took in Nesta’s jittery movements, the slight sheen of sweat on her forehead. With her dilated pupils, the pieces clicked into place.

"Cocaine, Nesta? Really?" He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. “What were you thinking?”

Nesta's posture stiffened, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Oh, that's rich coming from you. Don't act all high and mighty."

He blinked, caught off guard. "What are you talking about?"

"Please," Nesta scoffed. "You think I don't know about your little pick-me-ups before gigs? You're such a hypocrite."

Azriel's jaw tightened, his voice low. "That's... that's different. I'm not spiraling like you are."

Nesta leaned forward, her eyes blazing. "Different how? Because you're a 'tortured artist'? Give me a break." She made air quotes, her movements sharp and exaggerated.

He stood abruptly, pacing a few steps before whirling back to face her. "I'm not the one making a walk of shame to work every other day, or calling my estranged sister from borrowed phones."

Nesta shot to her feet, matching his stance. "No, you're just wasting your life playing dive bars. At least I have a real job." Her fingers drummed rapidly against her thigh.

"At least I'm not throwing away a law career I worked so hard for," he retorted, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Nesta's laugh was brittle as she threw herself back onto the couch. "You don't know anything about my work."

Azriel leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I know you've been calling in sick more often. You told me yourself last week."

"So what? Everyone needs a mental health day now and then."

He remained against the wall for a moment, studying her with concern and frustration. Then, slowly, he pushed off and took a few steps toward her, closing some distance between them. His voice was low but firm as he continued. "A day, sure. But you're—"

"I'm what, Az?" Nesta interrupted, her voice rising as she crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "Enlighten me."

Azriel's eyes darkened, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "You're running from your problems. You're burying yourself in your work instead of actually facing them."

Nesta's jaw clenched. "You think I don't know that? At least I'm trying to keep it together. Unlike you, hiding behind your music and your so-called 'artistic struggles.'"

Azriel's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Don't turn this around on me. Yeah, I’ve got shit going on, but I’m not self-destructing. I’m not jeopardizing my career and my relationships."

Nesta scoffed, her eyes flashing with defiance. "You’re one to talk about relationships. When was the last time you let anyone in? You’re just as closed off as I am."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "This isn’t about me. It’s about you needing help. Real help. You can’t keep running, Nes."

Her expression crumbled for a split second before she masked it with anger. "And what do you suggest I do, huh? Therapy? Rehab? You think I haven’t considered those? It’s not that simple."

His voice softened slightly. "I know it’s not simple. But I care about you, and it hurts to see you like this. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself like this.”

Tears welled up in Nesta’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. "I don’t need your pity."

"It’s not pity," he said, his tone earnest. "It’s concern. It's love, Nesta. You’re family, and I can’t just stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

She turned away, hugging herself tightly. The silence stretched between them, tense and heavy. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I called Feyre today..."

Az's expression hardened, a mix of concern and disappointment crossing his features. He didn't need to ask how she’d done it; he knew her pattern all too well. "Nesta," he said, his voice low and controlled, "you can't keep doing this. They clearly want space." Nesta's head snapped towards him, her eyes blazing.

"You don't know what they want! None of us do!" Her voice cracked with emotion.

Azriel's jaw clenched. "Maybe not, but I know they left for a reason. Have you considered that your constant attempts to reach her might be pushing her further away?"

Nesta's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you dare put this on me. You're just as lost without them as I am."

"At least I'm respecting their decision," Azriel countered, his voice low but intense. "Unlike you, I'm not harassing my coworkers for their phones or showing up to work high."

"Oh, please," Nesta scoffed. "You're not some paragon of virtue, Azriel. You're just better at hiding your mess."

Azriel took a step closer, his patience wearing thin. "My 'mess' isn't a nightly habit that’s consuming my life. Wake up, Nesta.”

Nesta's face contorted with rage and pain as she shot up off the couch and turned on him. "You think I don't realize that? You think I want to be like this?" Her voice rose to a near-shout. She paced like a caged animal, her fingers raking through her hair as she glared at Azriel. "I'm doing the best I can!"

His eyes flashed with frustration. "You want to know what I think? I think Elain was right."

Nesta met his gaze, her words low and tense. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I spoke to her last week," Azriel shot back, his voice hard. "She thinks you're the reason Feyre left. And you know what? I'm starting to agree with her."

"You don't know anything," Nesta snarled, her body coiled with tension.

Azriel stepped closer, his voice rising. "I know she was always cleaning up your messes. Always worrying about you. Elain thinks she finally got sick of it, and I can't blame her." His jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at his sides as he towered over her.

"Shut up," Nesta hissed, her hands clenching into fists. Though she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, the fury blazing in her eyes was no less intimidating.

"Face it, Nesta. Your sister couldn't take it anymore.” His volume rose, each word more forceful than the last. “Your emotional walls, your recklessness, your unwillingness to change—it drove her away! And now you're doing the same thing to Elain!"

Nesta's face contorted with rage. "I said shut up!"

"Why? Because you can't handle the truth?" Azriel's words were cutting. "She told me she wishes you’d left instead; that we’d all be better off if—"

With a wordless cry of fury, Nesta lunged at him, her hands clawing towards his face.

Azriel's eyes widened in shock as he instinctively raised his arms to block her attack.

"Nesta, stop!" Azriel growled, catching her wrists. She twisted violently in his grip, her teeth bared in a snarl.

"Let go of me!" Nesta spat, trying to wrench free. Her eyes were wild, pupils still dilated from the cocaine. She kicked out, aiming for his shins.

Azriel grunted as her foot connected, but he held firm. "I'm not fighting you," he said, his voice strained but controlled. "You need to calm down."

"Calm down?" she shouted hysterically. "After the shit you just said? Fuck you!"

She threw her weight forward, attempting to headbutt him. Azriel barely dodged, releasing one of her wrists to push her back. She immediately swung at him with her free hand. "You piece of shit!" Nesta screamed, lashing out again. Azriel deflected another blow as she continued, "You don't know anything about me!"

Her attacks came in bursts, punctuated by her rage-filled words. "Fucking lowlife!" she spat, narrowly missing his jaw with a wild swing, her nails grazing his cheek.

"Damn it, Nesta!" Azriel hissed, feeling the sting. He used his greater strength to push her back against the wall, pinning her arms. "Is this what you want? To hurt me? To hurt yourself?"

Nesta writhed against his hold, her chest heaving. "You don't understand anything!" she shouted, her voice raw with emotion. "You think you're so much better than me, but you're just as fucked up!"

Azriel leaned in, his face inches from hers. His voice was low, intense. "I never said I wasn't. I’m not your enemy here, Nesta, I’m just trying to stop you from being your own.”

For a moment, they stood there, both breathing hard. Nesta's eyes darted around, like a cornered animal looking for escape. Then, abruptly, she went limp in his grasp.

"Let go," she said, her voice suddenly quiet and dull. "Just... let me go, Azriel."

Azriel hesitated, studying her face. Slowly, cautiously, he released her arms and took a step back.

"I'm leaving," she muttered, pushing past him towards the door.

"Your keys," he said firmly, extending his hand towards her. "Give them to me. You're not driving like this. Get a Lyft or something."

“What are you, my keeper?” Nesta scoffed. “Drove myself here, didn’t I…” she muttered under her breath. Her hand went to her pocket, then paused. For a second, Azriel thought she might make a run for it or lunge at him again. But then her shoulders slumped, and she pulled out her keyring, took her apartment key, turned towards him and dropped them into his palm without meeting his eyes.

She made for the door again. Azriel didn't try to stop her, but his voice followed her. "This isn't over, Nes. We need to talk about this when you're sober."

Nesta paused at the door, her hand on the knob. Without turning back, she said, "Don't count on it," and slammed the door behind her.

Azriel stood in the sudden silence of his apartment, the echo of the slamming door fading away. He ran a hand over his face, wincing as he touched the scratch on his cheek. Nesta’s keys felt heavy in his hand.

#hurt/comfort but no comfort >:)#only hurt #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #nesta archeron #azriel #azriel acotar #nesta acotar #nesta and azriel #nesta archeron fanfiction #nesta archeron fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #acotar angst

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wannab-urs · 1 year ago

Text

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 12

Hi friends!!

I read a certain dark romance book this week and then also spent some time trying to catch up on all my lovely mutuals' fics (and there were many), so the rec list is only like 9 fics this week. I guess that's still a lot? It's no 27 fics though.

If you tagged me in a fic this week, I'm planning to get to those soon I promise. The actual spreadsheet with all my recs can be found here and the masterlist for my fic recs can be found here.

Anyway recs below the Pedge

Adversity a Frankie/Ezra series by @the-ginger-hedge-witch

This combo... okay I'll just start with how unreasonably HOT this is. Like you got Ezra: protective, talkative, wild, a little feral, definitely likes to use his mouth, lean and impeccably dressed with that dumb little blond patch. Then you have Frankie: Established Canon Pussy Eating King, def talks you through it, broad shoulders and a cute belly, patchy beard you'd just die to have between your legs, broody boy. So obviously, I'm already about to pass out. And then!! Their relationship with each other makes me feel so many things. The way Ez pulls Frankie out of his fucked up head and the way Frankie settles Ezra UGH. And then!!! and then!!!!!!! The way they take care of reader and the way they all love each other and balance each other out!! The hints of the other TF boys in there is v fun also. I know this series is old, but I am dying for it to be added to. Every glimpse into this wonderful lil throuple was wonderful. <3333

i've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you - a Joel one shot by @tremendum

Brat tamer!Joel is sooooo fucking hot. This is filthy and I love it!

warmth - a Joel one shot by @grippingbeskar

ooooh i love how at first this is just a sweet lil fluffy thing and then you put *you can stop reading here if you aren't a whore. however, i am, so i will continue* LMAO. I'm obviously a whore so I obviously kept reading. This one is for my thigh riding girlies <333

the worthwhile fight - a Marcus P one shot by @swiftispunk

So glad you decided to write some sweet angel baby Marcus P!! And I love the lil twist with reader being the protective one, because.... I actually cannot see Marcus punching anyone. Like I'm sure he would if he had to, but in my head he's such a soft boy I can't. The smut, as usual, was just absolutely immaculate. Looking forward to more marcus from you maybe...???? (please)

Sparks fly - a Joel one shot by @ezrasbirdie

Ok listen... This is the second anal fic I've read in as many weeks that made me have emotions other than filth... How do y'all keep doing this to me. The story is adorable, I love it!! And then they eat each other's asses and it's hot and it's a good time. Honestly I'd still give this a shot if you're not into the idea of eating Joel Miller's ass bc there's a bunch of super cute interactions and some smut before that happens... If you're a freak tho... this is the one

Just a little taste - a Din one shot by @jksprincess10

I fucking love inexperienced!Din and I love when he tastes pussy for the first time and just goes absolutely nuts. This was so hot ugh.

Fire a Din one shot by @jksprincess10

Din Djarin Fluff Supremacy

Hungry Hearts - a Joel series by @atinylittlepain

Young Joel... in booty shorts... playing baseball??? Being a gratuitous flirt and a total asshole in the most frustratingly charming of ways?? Ok and then... he's also a MECHANIC... Slutty Joel is everything. Oh but let's not stop there! We also get girl dad Joel being the most stereotypical softball parent ever. Sarah and Ellie being so very Sarah and Ellie about the whole thing. Also like if you needed more incentive for some reason Joel gets hit in the balls while being a douchebag. I feel like I'm not selling this as well as I should be, but I don't want to give too much away. It's delightful. Read it!!

Peace - a Joel one shot by @swiftispunk

As a former John Green novel SIMP, I love the living eulogy thing. It has a special place in my heart and I refuse to apologize for that. This fic had me tearing up bc like... Joel Miller deserves to hear how good he is and how much he means to people and he doesn't really ever get that in canon. Not really. I am going to have a literal breakdown bye

----------------oldies but goodies----------------

The Appreciation of Fine Liquor - an Ezra one shot by @write-and-buried

poor baby - a Joel series by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Just a little game - Javi P one shot @walkintotheriveranddisappear

quickie (boyfriend's dad!joel x reader) - a Joel one shot by @joelscruff

𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚 - a Dieter one shot by @psychedelic-ink

warm up - a Dieter one shot by @ezrasbirdie

Dieter Bravo x Library AU - a Dieter one shot @fuckyeahdindjarin

Bouquet, Bloom, Blossom - a Dieter series by @mypoisonedvine

----------------------------------------------------

Happy Reading

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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alicewhimzy · 1 year ago

Text

Willy Wonka and Lego Dimensions! 🍫🎩🏭

@321spongebolt and I have talked a lot about this, so here we go!

(Disclaimer! I've unfortunately never played LEGO dimensions, instead I have to look things up online, so please excuse me if it seems like I don't know precisely how things work. Because I don't. I have however played LEGO Batman 2 DC superheroes, and Lego the Hobbit, so I'll also be drawing from my experiences with those a lot. 🤪)

I love this idea and I want it to happen. Here are my suggestions. 😁

There's a lot under here just so you know.

I like the idea of including the whole tour group. Willy Wonka of course, plus all the kids and an Oompa-loompa for good measure (for the sake of fun I'll call them Ginger).

Willy Wonka could use his cane as a sword for a melee weapon and he could throw exploding candy for your enemies as a ranged weapon that could destory silver bricks. I think I like the round-truffle-cartoon-bomb better than the licorice dynamite design. A lit fuse or a clock is good because that's how we know when it goes off, but it's not a must-have. He could throw his cane into a wall and then swing on it (pole vault), solve matching puzzles (intelligence), and use control panels (technology). His featured vehicles would include the great glass elevator, the boiled-sweet boat, and the Wonka-mobile. The Wonka-mobile could shoot lavender-colored venom, but maybe that's a bit much.

The kids can be their own characters with their own abilities.

Charlie could have the fizzy-lifting-drink flight mentioned in the original post (flight), throw newspapers or Wonka bars (boomerang) and since he's Wonka's apprentice he could solve the same kinds of matching puzzles (intelligence).

Augustus could function like sandman or clayface, turning into liquid chocolate to transform (shapeshift) or slip through vents or something (slurp access).

Violet could control her blueberry transformation, similar to the hulk, and this would give her more strength, a smashing attack, and she'd be able to move faster by rolling on her side, maybe she could use gyrosphere switches (big transformation, gyrosphere).

Veruca could scream loud enough to break glass like the original post said (sonar smash), and maybe she could throw garbage at people or imitate a squirrel burying a nut, idk (dig).

Mike would be the only kid with guns (target) as well as the shrink ability and maybe he could hack stuff (hacking).

Ginger the Oompa-loompa could have a wrench that they use as a weapon. They'd be able to fix things (fix-it) and do acrobatics by throwing their wrench maybe (pole vault).

All of the children and Ginger would have access to mini hatches (mini access).

Each member of the group would be able to change into different versions of themselves like doctor who. The book versions, the 1971 film, the 2005 film, and the west end musical (my favorite).

Wonka's idle animations could be a somersault like Gene Wilder did, or he could do a little dance or do a maniacal laugh or play around with his hat and cane.

The kids' idle animations could be variations on them finding their golden ticket. Charlie pulls out a Wonka bar and is very hesitant in opening it, when he finds it he jumps for joy and runs in a circle. Augustus eats a Wonka bar before sticking his tongue out and pulling out the ticket. Violet has a pack of gum in one hand and a Wonka bar in the other, after thinking about it she chooses the Wonka bar, finds the ticket and strikes a victorious pose. Veruca pulls out an entire pile of Wonka bars, dives in and resurfaces with the ticket. Mike types on his phone and a purple air drone with a W on it delivers a Wonka bar, Mike examines it, opens it and finds the ticket before firing his guns in celebration.

Ginger the Oompa-loompa's idle animation would be the Oompa-loompa dance, naturally.

The Wonka prequel film could be a dlc (thanks 321spongebolt)! This means new characters! Noodle could fly using the balloons (flight). Lofty the Oompa-loompa could show up with his gadgets, maybe his wing-jet-pack (glide). The chocolate cartel would also be there, idk what abilities they'd have. 🤷‍♀️

There could be puddles of chocolate all over a level, like acid in Lego Batman, and it would need the hazard cleanup ability.

Doctor who might be able to access the dlc Wonka world via the TARDIS, back in time and whatnot.

Anyone who has any other ideas for this concept, please let me know! I'm fascinated!

#I'd love to play this game #please make this happen #@321spongebolt #charlie and the chocolate factory #catcf #willy wonka #charlie bucket #augustus gloop #violet beauregarde #veruca salt #mike teavee #oompa loompa #lego #legos #lego dimensions

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dalliansss · 1 year ago

Note

’ it’s true, romance is dead: i shot it in the chest, and then in the head. ’

’ FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE ’ SENTENCE STARTERS

Mairon wakes to the singing. He lifts himself up some from his silk-covered, hypoallergenic pillows, his ginger hair a terrible cloud around his head. He listens. Yes, there's the singing signalling that the pop star he had taken home a year and a half ago is up and about, ahead before him as always, and already preparing for his day. Finrod has a very lovely voice and Mairon has found his singing is better than any playlist on Spotify or YouTube. Live concerts every day and not a single ticket charged to his black credit card.

It's true romance is dead I shot it in the chest-- And then in the head!

Mairon takes his sweet time. He rolls onto his back. Then he hears the unmistakable purring of a cat, and a particularly fluffy and round British shorthair jumps up on the bed and trots to him, tail held high. A grin spreads on his lips as the chocolate-colored tomcat loafs on his chest and stomach. Mairon immediately hugs the cat, bestowing a thousand kisses on that cute fluffy face and pink nose and soft, soft ears.

The cat meows -- but for all of his size, what he can manage is a pitiful meow that seems to have cost him all the effort in the world. This is Draugluin, Mairon's firstborn child, love of his life, his chocolate-colored baby. Baby baby baby baby baby. That pitiful meow pinches at his heart unfailing each time. More kisses are bestowed on the cat.

"Have you eaten? Has Helga given you breakfast? You cutiepie. My baby. My cute little chocolate chip. Cutiepie. My baby," Mairon mutters as he lifts the cat a little by its fluffy armpits. However armpits apply to felines, of course.

Just then the master bathroom doors open. He hears Finrod moving about, still singing that song. It must be a new song from an upcoming album. It has to be. Mairon has never heard it before. Another perk of acquiring oneself a world-famous, viral pop idol, dating said pop idol, and then bringing him home. VVIP access to unreleased content.

Draugluin pats Mairon's face with a fluffy paw. He kisses said paw, before hugging the cat to himself. He catches a whiff of Finrod's perfume. Le Labo nut, his partner.

"Mairon?" Finrod's voice comes somewhere from their vast, walk-in closet. "Drive me to the studio today?"

Ah yes. This makes him roll his eyes, this types of request. Mairon Aulëndil, CEO of Angbad Inc., reduced to being chauffeur. Mairon Aulëndil, with an M.A. and Ph.D on Business Management, reduced to a grocer boy. Mairon Aulëndil, gorgeous man, reduced to--

Finrod's lovely face appears in his line of vision, peeking down at him. "I said drive me to the studio."

"Did you hear me refuse? I didn't refuse," Mairon scowls. He kisses Draugluin's chocolate head. Still hugging his cat. His and Finrod's firstborn child, really. They should get another one. A girl. Just so Draugluin has a sibling... "Of course I will drive you to your studio."

"But before that take me to Farmery first so I can buy us some sandwiches. And we're short on those cooked hams you like on your wheat bread. And also a Starbucks drive-thru for coffee."

"Finrod, we have perfectly delicious coffee beans here and an espresso machine that you ordered all the way from godsdamn Italy. Why would you want that Starbucks crap?"

"Because Helga and Alice cannot make my latte how I want it."

His partner pads away. Draugluin has loafed on him now and is kneading biscuits by his neck and chest. Mairon's scowl doesn't fade.

"Mrmf. Your claws are getting long, young man. Time for an appointment with your groomer."

Another kiss to the cat. Another kiss. Mwah mwah.

"Mairon!" Finrod calls him. "Get your ass out of bed and bathe already!"

Ugh. This dumb blond...if only he wasn't so pretty and desirable, Mairon would have kicked him out already nonsense he has a ring ready; he will put a ring on it, and he will seal his fate soon of complaining forever!

Mairon sits up. Now cradling Draugluin like a baby in his arms. The cat still continues to knead at thin air. Purring like a motorboat. Awh.

"You see this? You see how your mommy is treating me? Slave-driver. Eru on a stick. Slave-driver."

"I can hear you, Mairon! Get your ass out of bed!"

"I'm getting up already, damn! Shut up, Finrod!"

"Get your ass out of bed!"

"I'm already up!!!!"

@skaelds

#silmarillion #my drabs #modern au #mairon #sauron #finrod #finrod felagund #mairon x finrod #pop notes

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threadsun · 1 year ago

Note

The bell above the restaurant’s door rings as Joseph holds it open for you, the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread and something sweet surrounding you as you walk in. It’s a quaint little restaurant, more the size of a café than anything. A few booths and tables are scattered about in an area off to the side from the main counter, above which are prices for various frozen treats, and below are display cases for baked goods

Behind the counter is a very… normal-looking man. You don’t mean that as an insult it’s just the best way you can describe him at first glance, besides being ginger “Hey, Berry, someone sick or something? You usually don’t run the counter” The man behind the counter, who you now know as Berry, just shrugs “I thought I’d take Mariah’s shift, something told me today would be rather interesting. Who’s this?” As he looks at you you can feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, you swear you’ve heard his voice before

“Oh, right, Berry this is the founder’s child” The way his eyes widen almost looks practiced “Really? Well, welcome to Laurent’s Place. Would you like some froyo? I’ve actually been working on a new flavor just for you” You try to decline his offer as politely as you can, saying you’d prefer something warm. Berry pouts at this “Oh, well maybe next time. As for warm foods, I’m afraid Jean’s still in his cast after the scene at the funeral. I’ll talk to Rory about making something, I’m sure he wouldn't mind if it's for you” You could swear his smile got a bit wider when he talked about whatever incident left one of the chefs in a cast, but you shake it off, there’s no way, right?

Berry exits through a door to what you can only assume would be a kitchen as Joseph walks you to one of the empty tables “...So, I know you haven’t been here long, but do you like what you’ve seen so far? The town, I mean, you know I wasn’t talking about me or anything, just, um, yeah” Poor guy, you can tell he’s nervous, his blush starting to spread to his ears at his clunky attempt at small talk

You give him a reassuring smile and say everything you’ve seen so far has been great, the people too. His smile is so wide, it’s like he just can’t contain how happy he is. He looks away bashfully and you notice just how small he looks like this, just how cute he is burying as much of his face as he can in the hand he’s propped up on the table. You didn’t have long to admire his blush, his face paling as he saw Berry bringing you food over

“Here you are! Hope you like them” Berry sets a stack of pancakes on the table, made exactly how you like them. It’s almost scary how perfect they look, and taste you find out as you take an experimental bite. You thank Berry and give your compliments to the chef “Of course, I’ll let him know” Berry turns to leave before Joseph stops him “Actually, I know you’re busy today but their car broke down and I was hoping you’d help haul their stuff to the founder’s house, or, old house, I guess”

Berry’s eyes light up at this “Of course, anything for the child of prophecy. I’ll get on that right now” Joseph stands up a bit too quickly “I’ll come too! I mean, you know, cuz I know where their car is” You only now realize how pale Jo’s face gets while talking to Berry, how tense he seems. You tell the two that you’ll need a minute to finish your food “Oh, don’t worry, we can handle it just fine. You just relax here while we go move your things, we won’t look into anything, promise” The way Berry says it is almost sarcastic, like he’s just waiting for you to call him out on it. You just nod and thank them for the help

Berry sticks his head in the back and yells something before leaving with Joseph to move your things for you…to move your things for you. Wait, why the fuck would you ever agree to that? This is nuts, you don’t fucking know these people why do you just keep saying yes to them??? Because they’re hot. Yeah, ok, what’s a good reason you keep saying yes? … Yeah, that’s what you thought. God damn it, at least the pancakes are good, a bit salty but it’s a welcome addition to be sure

Everything just keeps happening, it’s a little hard to keep up. Most of your day has been on the road in your own little world, only stopping once or twice for gas and bathroom breaks. While this all sounded new and existing on paper it’s a little terrifying in practice, you’re already getting a little homesick, though the pancakes do taste like the ones your mom made for you. Yeah, your mom’s awesome, you wish there was just one familiar face around here. As you’re about halfway done with your stack the front door rings

What do you mean you read it aloud to your partner? that’s nuts, you’re nuts, I love you, fuck! I hope you enjoyed this second part just as much or even more than the last, and I hope you have a wonderful day :D

I READ THIS ONE ALOUD TO THEM TOO they literally stopped in the middle of their work to listen to it and now we're both screaming!!!! It's soooooooo good, your writing is so good and your ideas are so good and I'm losing my mind I want to know every single thought that goes through your brain about this AU it's fucking incredible!!!!

Also god you did such an amazing job of balancing Barry being an absolute freak and terrible with the founder's kid being suspicious but not immediately picking up on all of it :3c Also Joseph is so cuteeeeee I'm losing my mind he's adorable and I wanna wreck him soooooo bad!!!!

#sunshine #cult town au #sorry I am deeply not normal about this as you can see #it's not my fault it's so fucking good!!!!!#Joseph is so cute trying to hide his face like that I love himmmmm #And Barry's special yogurt and the salty pancakes 👀

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paimaniagalaxia · 5 months ago

Text

FNAF AU- Clean Up Time

Ship: Springtrap x Self insert

Word count: 1,626

Summary: The after math of the events of FNAF 1, where a clean up crew is hired by Henry Emily to help refurbish and confiscate the animatronics.

Paige is apart of that clean up crew and decides to leave the rest of her crew mates to finish the job, all the while exploring the rest of the pizzaria. Only to end up in parts and services, to find the one and only William Afton. AKA, Springtrap.

[CHAPTER FOUR]

Honestly, I can’t keep going like this. The constant performing and the lines of children. Day after day, seems to be a never ending cycle. If I have to keep this up, I might as well live in the suit itself.

I just want to die, since Henry-- Oh so SWEET Henry, runs the show. He made the animatronics that I’ve designed. But now HE’S the face of the company.

Oh well, let the American have it all!

Heh heh ehh, William, William… You crack yourself up too much.

This job is gonna be the end of you someday. But not today… Not today.

Today, it’s time for Spring Bonnie to perform.

“William. WILLIAM!!” A man with a ginger beard calls out to the undressing Brit with brown hair.

“Oh what do you want?” William states back in an irritated tone as he fixes up his tie in a nearby mirror.

He just finished another tiring performance next to the wondrous Fredbear, as his co-star: Spring Bonnie.

“We need to talk about expenses.” Henry spoke back, matching with William’s irritation.

“Expenses? Oh, now you want me to do my actual job?”

“Oh hardy-har-har Will. You are both the finances and Spring Bonnie. After all, you did say you can multitask!”

“I should have kept my mouth shut…” William grumbles under his breath, before following Henry into his workshop.

Henry’s worship had an endoskeleton left on his work bench, it looked lifeless like a corpse. The metallic build was thin like toothpicks, but had large eyeballs the size of baseballs. The thing looks better with a shell rather than it by itself.

William preferred the more wiring build he had designed, but that project was scrapped-- For personal reasons.

“William, we are getting bigger as a company. And we're gonna expand out from this small rinky-dink diner. It is about time we talk about cuts of the profits.” Henry states back as he moves some nuts and bolts on a nearby table. Forming them into a small pile.

He takes his wrench and moves a huge chunk off to the size.

This made William smile.

“So I’ll be getting a majority of the cut! I am so honored to be taking such a huge pay, this will be so good for me and the boys--”

Then Henry laughs hard.

Prompting William to frown, and raises a brow.

“What’s so funny? William asks, confused. “Who said you were gonna get that big payout? No one.” Henry states before pointing the wrench at his business partner’s chest. “That would ALL GO, to me.”

“TO YOU?!” William was flabbergasted. He helped run the show, made the designs of the animatronics, and even helped with the finances as well. This venture was built by his very hands, more than Henry could ever think of doing so by himself. “I am practically the STAR of the main show, CHILDREN idolize Spring Bonnie.”

“Yes, that’s all they see. Spring Bonnie. And that’s all you’ll ever be Will.” Henry gently pushes William back with the wrench.

The main in the asymmetrical dress shirt winces and stumbles back, a firm glare painted on his face. Tired eye was now twitching. William was NOT happy. And why should he be? Henry was taking everything he worked so hard for, away. All for what?

“And why do you deserve so much?” William asks.

Henry dusts the top of his wrench and grins over at his partner.

“It’s only me and Charlotte, William. You have-- Had a wife. And your cut is more than enough for you and the boys.” Henry explains back. “Aren’t you going to hire Michael to work for us anyways?”

“Not now, he’s only fifteen.” William states back.

“Fair. We don’t want to lie on the record.” Henry shrugs and sets his wrench down between the piles of nuts and bolts.

He waves his hand, ushering William goodbye. Leaving the crossed man alone in the room.

The very man was irked beyond comprehension. The same dark urge starts to burn once again. The one who took his wife, his daughter Elizabeth. The one who performs on stage, also took lives. A twisted self when it came to mask his identity, something he pushed down… Was now arising again.

A wicked grin appears. It was time to play.

Charlotte was playing with the other children in the diner. Giggling happily as it was her birthday. She just turned nine, so close to being ten. To be the oldest out of her little friend group.

Then, a shadow casts over her.

“Eh?” She coos before turning and smiling big. “Spring Bonnie!” “Hey howdy ho Charlotte!” Spring Bonnie spoke back, in a Southern draw. Waving back to the girl dressed in black and white. “I heard it was someone’s birthday!”

“Me! Me!!” Charlotte jumps up and down happily.

“It is! Oh my goodness, the special birthday girl needs something for her special day!” He chuckles happily, extending his hand out. His bright blue eyes catch the large present.

Inside that box was a creation of Henry’s, Marionette. It watches over Charlotte. So he couldn’t take her anywhere inside the diner. So, Spring Bonnie had to do things OUTSIDE.

“If I can get your permission, birthday gal, can I give you yer gift outside?” Spring Bonnie asks.

“I don’t know… Daddy says I have to stay inside.” Charlotte nervously replies.

“Is it Daddy’s birthday?” “Nooo, you’re right! We can go out!”

Spring Bonnie gleams, takes Charlotte’s hand. Leading her out of the Diner. To give her a special gift.

Weeks went by, missing child posters were hung around the outside of the diner itself, but they were chipped away. Blown away in the wind itself as Charlotte wasn’t found. As this left a worried Henry to panic, not able to focus on his work. Locked away in his workshop.

So William had full control.

Despite that control, the only thing he couldn’t control was his youngest son’s fear of animatronics.

“Oh come now, they are not so scary.” William tries to persuade.

“Dad… You know he’s seen what you’ve made back home.” A young teenage son, Micheal spoke back annoyed.

William frowns and sighs. “But these are built by Henry. They are nothing like what we have at home.”

“Uh huh…” Michael rolls his eyes, arms folded and turns away.

“B-Brother is right…” Evan, the youngest, whimpers. Poking his head out from under the table. “That Fredbear is too scary. His jaw looks like a shark’s.”

“But does it have sharp teeth?” William asks softly.

“Nooo…” Evan responds back.

“Then he won’t hurt you.” He smiles and holds out his arms.

Evan blinks before rushing into William’s arms, huddling close. As his father was right. Fredbear didn’t have sharp teeth. So he wasn’t going to hurt him, as long as he didn’t go near him.

Michael’s eyes look over Fredbear, as he notices the mechanical parts. Especially around its jaw. “Spring locks.” He states, catching his father’s attention.

“Right… Keep Evan away.” The father states before handing over Evan.

“Yeah, he’s such a crybaby.” Michael remarks back.

“NO I’M NOT!” Evan whines. “You cried when you realized chocolate milk doesn’t come from brown cows.” Michael argues back.

Evan pouts, a few tears form in his eyes. “Be nice. I’m gonna get suited.” William ruffles Michael’s hair before leaving into his dressing room. “Okay dad.” Michael rolls his eyes, as he takes Evan to their table. To eat the pizza that finally arrived for them.

In his dressing room, William was scrubbing his suit down. The blood stains were still lingering. From the dark deed he has done. Guilt was washing over his eyes, flowing down his cheeks before he puts down the arm of Spring Bonnie. Arms folded over the suit’s head and sobs.

Then he lifts his head up and cleans his face, before talking to himself. “Not again… Not again. God. I can’t keep this in. Henry, he’ll understand my situation. And if I have to, I’ll let him take care of the boys. Give them a proper father to raise them.” He argues with himself before he hears the door open.

“William…?” Henry spoke and saw the suit. Face turns white, horrified.

“Emily! Listen… Let me, let me--” Then he sees Henry’s hand come up, prompting him to silence himself.

“No. I’ve seen enough.” The father of his passed daughter, spoke back with an icy tone. Darkness filled behind his small round specs. “I know what to do.” “Don’t! You won’t be able to live with yourself!!” William gasps in shock and grabs Henry’s arm. Before being kicked down onto his knees. “Hnngh!”

“And you had?!” “Took me until now. Be a better person. Call the cops! Take my boys, my life-- Just don’t repeat what I’ve done. It’ll eat you alive.” William begs, tugging his arm to get freed.

“I am stronger than you. But I might take one of the boys, just one. To make us even.” Henry grins before kicking William back, knocking him into his dress.

The man was now out cold.

There was screaming. Multiple screaming could be heard behind underwater hearing, as William slowly wakes up from his forced slumber. Head was aching and bleeding.

Though one voice cried out louder, his name was being spoken out. “DAD! DAAAD!!”

“M…Michael…?” William states as he slowly gets up, holding his vanity as support. “DAD!” Michael calls out again and sees his dad. Blood spattered on his face, shaking. “Dad…”

“M…Michael…”

His heart ached, as he saw his son. Stained. Mortified. Crying.

“Where is…?” Michael whimpers and rubs his eyes with his forearm.

“Gone. Fredbear took him.”

William grits his teeth before he falls again, face forward out of blood loss.

[END OF CHAPTER FOUR]

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