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thefallennightmare · 2 months

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Fika-Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson: 1/2

*made by @madomens. check her out!*

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson x OFC.

Warnings: some angst, swearing, lots of fluff, smut, mentions of death.

Summary: To appease her dying father’s wishes, Astrid takes over the family coffee shop: Fïka. Plans to restore it to its former glory: setting her dreams and ambitions aside- that is until she meets an unexpected stranger. This very stranger changes the trajectory of her life.

Authors Note: Ok what originally was a 26k word one shot is now a two parter! I have the link to part two at the bottom of this one! Enjoy my lovelies. I hope you all enjoy my first time writing Jolly. Oh, make sure you all pay attention closely to this 😏 It took me a month to write this btw.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @somewhere-diamond @concreteemo @ladispo0p @to-be-written @lilmonster218 @whenthesummerdies @lizzieseveride @blackveilomens @malice-ov-mercy @lma1986 @klutzy-kay24 @baddestomens @cncohshit @jilliemiw86 @cookiesupplier

ASTRID

“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled while struggling to carry the large and heavy box from the stockroom up to the front area of the cafe.

Another curse fell from my lips as I nearly tripped over the discarded and broken coffee machine that I seemed to have forgotten was lying on the floor. Then when I walked past the break room where two of my employees were enjoying their break, one of them waved me over.

“Yes?” I grunted while pausing for a moment, still carrying the large box.

“The turbo oven is doing that thing again where it either burns the food or doesn't cook it at all,” Jessica said with a frown. “Any idea when the new one is supposed to come in?”

I nodded towards the box. “Two steps ahead of you.”

As I went to push myself through the door that encased the back of the cafe from the front, my other employee, Sean, yelled after me.

“The front door is getting stuck again! Can you WD20 it again?!”

“IT’S WD40!” I yelled back.

Pushing my way through the door, I felt the box beginning to slip between my sweaty fingers and I quickly walked over to the front counter, letting it fall onto it with a loud thud.

Curious eyes from the few customers landed on me and I smiled sheepishly while shrugging. “Sorry.”

“Uh, Astrid?”

Whirling around, I brushed away strands of my white hair to see another one of my employees standing in front of me with an apologetic face.

“Oh no,” I shook my head. “What’s broken now?”

“The sink in the restroom is slow to drain and we’re running low on cold foam,” Tori said with her hands behind her back.

“Low? How?! We’ve only been open a week and that stock was supposed to last us at least three!” I exclaimed with a high squeaky voice; one that only showed when I was stressed.

“Sean doesn't understand the measurements,” Tori sighed. “I’ve gone over the sheet with him like four times but he still doesn’t get it.”

Running my hands over my face, I let out a deep and calming breath, which seemed to help until the front door rattled before being thrown open, almost smacking against the black brick.

“Jeez, you should really get this door checked out.”

Whirling around on my heels with a low scowl, I was ready to lay into this person because frankly, it was one thing after the other and I’ve fucking had it. But when I took in the appearance of these two guys, I quickly shook my head, heart dropping into my stomach.

“You guys aren’t supposed to be here until after closing!”

There’s that high-pitched voice again.

“Yeah well,” the guy carrying a bucket and paintbrush shrugged. “We finished our other job early so we thought we could get started here.”

I hired this local paint company to paint the tallest wall inside the cafe only because I didn’t have a tall enough ladder to reach the highest point. I painted everything else but didn’t want to bother with this one; it was right in the middle of the cafe lobby.

“No, that’s not going to work,” I walked around the counter so I could stand face-to-face with this guy. “I have customers and I can’t have you paint while they’re in here.”

“Listen, lady, all due respect-.”

I craned my neck to the side and let out a low hiss. “I fucking hate when people say that.”

The two painters shared a look before the one who seemed to be in charge raised a brow. “What?”

“Typically when people say all due respect, it’s rarely followed by a respectful remark,” I said with my arms crossed.

“Did you want us to paint this wall or not?” The guy who had been silent spoke.

I snapped my eyes over to him. “Do you want my money or not?”

That seemed to have shut both of them up but my hands were still shaking as my heart was hammering hard in my chest. Ever since we opened this morning, it seemed like it was problem after problem.

Why the fuck did I agree to take over this place?

Because it was your father's cafe and his father’s before him. You promised you’d take care of it when he passed.

Running a tattooed hand through my long hair, I let out a deep breath. “I closed at nine. Can you come back then?”

The one painter shook his head. “Nope. We don’t work that late.”

Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was barely one in the afternoon, and with less than eight hours left, I had to make a decision quickly.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I eventually nodded. “Fine, you can start now. But please, be respectful of my customers.”

There were only three customers in here currently, a total of six since we opened at nine a.m., but I didn’t dare let them know.

Leaving them to do their work, I let the heels of my combat boots thud against the aging wood floors as I walked back behind the counter to go over the mental checklist of my list.

Unclog the bathroom sink.

Order more cold foam.

Personally show Sean the correct measurements.

WD40 the front door.

Set up the new turbo oven.

Quickly tying my hair into a braid, I set to work on the list. Had I known the amount of work and updating this cafe needed before I took it over from my father, I would have said no. I was twenty-five years old and had the rest of my life ahead of me, I didn’t want to be stuck trying to keep this place above water.

Fika first opened sixty years ago when my grandparents came to the United States for an opportunity for a better life. From day one it was a music-themed cafe where they had live music nights every Friday. It succeeded well after they left it to my father when they retired. He hated the live music nights so as soon as he took over, he axed that idea.

However, when my father got sick about five years ago, that’s when everything went to shit.

I grew up inside of these walls and saw the stress it brought on my parents until they divorced when I was twelve. My mother wanted nothing to do with this place, claiming it was cursed, so she left.

My father did his best to raise me solo while trying to run this cafe full-time. I would help out when I could; be here in the morning before school then here right away after school until closing. I would sit in the corner booth in front of the window to do my homework in between bussing tables. It was like that every day until I turned eighteen and went off to college.

But any weekend I could, I’d be right back here to help my father out. Then when he got sick five years ago, I dropped out of college so I could stay home full-time to take care of him. He was in this place every single day until the day he died a few months ago. It didn’t make a lot of money the last few years so not only did he leave me the cafe, he also left me all of the debt. I wasn’t drowning in it, I still have a decent amount in savings to at least update it but not enough to create a living.

So that was why I had put the word out that it was for sale if anyone wanted to purchase it. I needed the money to pay off my father's debts and at least survive the next few years until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life.

With a groan, I stood slowly from my crouched position as I finished fixing the front door and smiled in victory when it didn’t stick. It was after three in the afternoon and peering over my shoulder, I noticed that the painters were finishing up the now black wall and I had to admit, I felt giddy when I saw my vision slowly coming to life.

I had a red neon sign that read Fika and I planned on hanging it up on that wall and then hanging a bunch of different guitars around it; my grandfather’s favorite on full display.

Yes, I did have plans to eventually sell the cafe but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy getting it to where I envisioned it.

Wiping my hands on the back of my black jeans, I set to work on reading the manual for the new turbo oven, wanting to make sure that I understood every aspect of it to show my employees.

“Hi! Welcome to Fika!”

Jessica’s cheery voice greeted a new customer who stepped inside, the little bell that hung above the door ringing. It was a special bell, my grandparents brought it with them when they moved here. It hung up in that same spot for the last sixty years and I planned on taking it with me if this place ever sold.

I paid no mind as I focused on now setting up the turbo oven in its new spot on the back counter.

“Uh, Astrid?”

My shoulders slumped at hearing Jessica’s wavering voice from behind me. I didn’t bother turning around; not yet. Maybe it was a simple fix that she could handle on her own.

“Yes?” I answered while wiping down the new oven.

“The credit card machine isn’t working,” Jessica now stood in the side of my vision so I had no choice but to turn towards her.

“I swear if my hair wasn’t already white, the stress of today would have given me gray hairs,” I joked with a faint smile as I turned toward the register.

My eyes were cast downward to the small white credit card machine, not bothering to gaze up at the customer.

“It’s working fine,” I showed Jessica. “You just have to remember to type in the total before hitting payment.”

“OH! Makes sense,” she squeezed my arm. “Sorry.”

I waved her off. “It’s fine. It’s a new machine so it will take some getting used to. I’ll ring him up if you want to start on his order?”

With a nod, Jessica scurried off to make the drink as I finally gave the person on the other side of the counter my attention.

“Hi, it’ll be $3.25.”

However, my breath caught in my throat at the sight of the man in front of me. Dark amber eyes shined back at me, long strands of even darker hair cast around his face, and his pink, plump lips curled up into a faint smile. The facial hair that encased around those lips made my stomach twinge in the best way and when I caught sight of the small nose ring, I nearly fell to my knees.

It wasn’t until I saw the black card in front of my face that I snapped out of my ogling and took it with a blush covering my cheeks.

Ringing him up, I handed back his card with a slight waver in my hand but ended up dropping it on the counter before he had the chance to grab it.

“Shit,” I cursed as I went to reach for it but ended up knocking over the small tip jar, coins spilling over the counter.

“Fucking perfect!” I groaned while throwing my head back.

Could this day get any worse?

An older couple that was sitting on the stools at the bar a few spaces down from me gave me an ice-cold glare.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to curse,” I apologized with a fake smile.

Even though I never watched my mouth around anyone, I couldn’t risk scaring off customers because of my vulgar words.

I made fast work of picking up the spilled change and placed it back in the jar before looking up at the man through my lashes.

“That will be up soon,” I cleared my throat.

The man smiled, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of my face. “Thank you.”

Oh fuck.

Those two words alone made my cheeks deepen even more in a shade of crimson because there was a hint of an accent to them. I couldn’t place it but it sounded heavenly to my ears.

Turning swiftly on my heels, I scurried to the back, not wanting to embarrass myself in front of him anymore.

About an hour later after catching up on all the office work I had, I ventured back up to the front of the cafe when I was told the painters had finished and were waiting for a check.

“We’re all finished, ma’am,” the older painter said with a thin-lined smile.

My own matched his when I handed him the check. “Thank you. It looks great.”

He went to leave but slowly turned around. “Fika? What does that mean?”

I broke out into a genuine smile when the memory of my grandma telling me why she named this place came creeping into my mind.

“It's Swedish. It essentially means coffee break,” I answered while pulling my black cardigan closer to me.

As the painters left, I turned to my right to look up at the freshly painted wall and kept smiling.

“Looks good.”

Looking over my shoulder, I nodded to Tori. “I’m just glad they managed to stay out of customers' way.”

“Speaking of customers,” Tori smirked while pulling me closer; she was fresh out of high school and any chance she had to gossip about something, she took it.

“That guy in the far booth hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked out here,” Tori whispered low in my ear.

I raised a brow. “Who?”

She rolled her eyes, the color matching the blue apron she wore, and turned my chin to face behind me where I saw the man from earlier, perched in the corner booth; exactly like she said.

He had a laptop on the table in front of him and a notebook next to it; the pen scratching quickly against the paper. As if he felt me staring, his eyes bounced up from the notebook to land on my face. Our eyes locked in such an intense battle of who would look away first but neither of us gave up yet. With the way he was watching me, it brought a heat to my insides and I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly running dry.

“You should go talk to him,” Tori pushed me a little his way.

I dug my heels into the ground. “You should get back to work.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” she giggled while throwing a hand over her shoulder as she turned to head back to the counter.

With one final glance over to the man in the corner booth, I bit my lip when I realized he was still watching me with curiosity in his eyes. I felt this unknown pull in my heart, dragging me over to him, and as my foot took one step in his direction, Sean’s voice called from the back.

“UH, ASTRID! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!”

Son of a bitch.

ASTRID

“Wait-what do you mean delay? I was told the sign would be here last Friday,” I groaned into my phone.

“I’m sorry, miss, but with all the shipping delays it might be another week until you receive what you ordered.” The sales rep said.

I pinched my eyes shut and sighed. “I need that sign. It was for the outside of my cafe, right now I have a dingy one that has been here since my grandparents opened and the ‘A’ is barely hanging on so now all it says is FIK so imagine my horror when people keep saying “Oh my, fik is a terrible name, dear.”

I was rambling on to this complete stranger on the phone because of my stress and nerves. When I first took over the cafe a few months ago, the outdoor sign was old and broken so I ordered a new one but I had hopes that it’d be here before I reopened.

Wrong.

“I don’t know what else to tell you. We’re hoping to have it for you by the end of the month.”

“THE MONTH?!” I nearly screeched as I came to a halt in the middle of the cafe lobby; curious eyes landing on me.

Sean furrowed his brows while making a drink. Waving him off, I turned my attention back to my phone. “Is there any way you could put a rush order on it? Please.”

“No,” the sales rep deadpanned.

“Gee thanks,” I grumbled before hanging up the phone, stuffing it angrily into the pocket of my olive green jumpsuit.

Running both hands through the long strands of my hair while I muttered a few curses. It seemed as if the last week had continued problem after problem.

The sink in the bathroom ended up having to be replaced.

Torri accidentally dropped a stack of brand-new coffee mugs, breaking all of them, so I still need to go out and buy some more.

The new employee I hired last week didn’t show up for their third shift this morning, meaning we were down a person. When I texted them, they never responded.

There was a family of raccoons living next to the dumpster outside. Sean wanted me to call animal control but I immediately declined. They weren’t hurting or bothering anyone so they could live there.

“What are we, a wildlife rehab?” Sean asked with disbelief.

I raised a brow while crossing my arms. “Sean, are you afraid of a couple of raccoons?”

He scoffed. “Please. Those things just eat trash and cause havoc.”

“Well, they’re staying. If anyone doesn't like it, they can come to me with their complaints,” I pointed my finger playfully at my employees.

With a sigh, I busied myself for the next little while cleaning up tables, talking with guests, and helping out my employees with anything they needed. I was a hands-on owner and boss, always helping when I could. Anything to make their lives and jobs easier.

Every so often, when I mingled with the guests, I let my gaze drift to the empty corner booth; where the mystery man sat every day for the last four days. He never came at the same time but when he did show up, I managed to always be busy with front-of-house things or stuck in my office. But when I wasn't in my office, our eyes would catch every so often. However, it was my nerves that stopped me from going to ask him if he needed anything else or to strike up a conversation with him.

Flirting in general was easy for me but with this man, his dark yet bright eyes locked me into place with a swollen tongue every time his gaze struck me.

“Astrid, my dear!”

Pausing from refilling the straws, I glanced at the open door and smiled at one of Fika’s regulars from when my father owned it; an older man named Phillip.

“Hi, Phillip. How are you?” I helped guide him to a table against the black-painted wall; still empty.

I haven't had time to hang up the variety of guitars that were slowly overtaking my office.

“Fine, fine,” he patted my hand as I slowly helped him into the seat. “Just here for my usual honey tea with-.”

“One piece of lemon so you can squeeze it yourself and two cannolis,” I finished for him with a nod. “Coming right up Phillip.”

Turning on my heels, I peered over to the counter ready to tell Tori about the order but raised a brow when I noticed no one standing behind it. Glazing at the clock on the opposite wall, I cursed when I remembered that Tori’s break was now and Sean was busy watching a safety training video in the break room.

As the door above the bell rang, indicating a new customer, I glanced down at Phillip while tapping the table. “Give me a bit and I’ll hand deliver it myself.”

He paused reading the newspaper to give me a warm smile. “Of course, dear.”

“I’ll be right with you,” I then called to the tall man standing at the counter but froze when our eyes met.

His usual long hair was pulled back into a low bun, showcasing the hardness of his jaw, and I absentmindedly licked my lips. He wore a simple gray hoodie and black jeans but something about this casual outfit made my stomach flip. Since his hair was pulled back I was able to see the small piercing in his left ear.

“Take all the time you need. I’m in no rush,” the mystery man smiled while holding onto the strap of his bag; the same bag that he brought in every day.

I’ve come to notice that it held his notebook and laptop, with the occasional book he brought out to read every so often.

“Th-thanks,” I stuttered while rushing behind the counter to get started on Phillip’s order.

As I was pouring the tea into the cup, the phone from the cafe rang and I quickly answered.

“Thank you for calling Fika. This is Astrid.”

“Astrid!” The cheery and younger voice ran in my ear. “It’s Laura. I’m bringing in my study group, we’re a party of seven so I wanted to give you a heads up in case you didn't have the space.”

Glancing up to the farthest corner of the cafe, secluded away from the rest, the two long sage-green couches were currently empty.

“The loft is already booked for a private event for tonight but your usual spot is open. I’ll reserve it for you guys. Thanks for the heads up, Laura! I appreciate it.”

“Oh please, Astrid. You’ve done so much fueling our late-night college study sessions. We’ll see you in a bit!”

Hanging up the phone, I placed it on the counter while grabbing the tea mug in one hand and the two cannolis and slice of lemon in the other. As I passed by the tall mystery man, I gave him my best smile.

“I’m sorry for the wait.”

He peered up from his phone. “No need to apologize. I’m very patient.”

Ignoring the way my skin pricked and burned at the accent in his voice, I gently set down Phillip’s order with shaky hands.

“Oh, why so nervous, dear?” Phillip commented.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “No reason. Enjoy.”

Before I could leave, he gently grasped my elbow. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

My body went rigid at the mention of my father. It was rare that a customer would bring him up because they were all new so there was no need to talk about my father which I’d been thankful for since it was still raw. The occasional regulars, like Phillip, were the ones that did.

I swallowed thickly. “Uh, thank you. We knew for a while how sick he was but still, it was a shock.”

“And you were the one that found him?”

Out of the corner of my eye, the mystery man turned his head briefly my way but I kept my attention on Phillip doing my best not to let the tears win.

“Enjoy your tea, Phillip. Let me know if you need anything else.”

I tapped his shoulder while making my way over to the two couches in the far back of the cafe and flipped over the RESERVED sign then made my way back to the register.

“Thanks for waiting,” I smiled up to the mystery man. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee with two scoops of sugar, please.” He smiled while handing me his black credit card.

“Any sweets?” I teased, already knowing his order.

According to Jessica and Tori, every time he came in he ordered the same thing.

Black coffee with two scoops of sugar.

They tried to upsell him into something different or add a sweet for his side, but every time he politely declined.

The man’s eyes sparked as he looked at me and just as I was about to prepare myself for giving him the total, he surprised me.

He hummed low. “What do you recommend?”

Tapping my fingers against the edge of the counter I peered at the display case of all the homemade desserts I baked this morning.

“Depends. What do you like?” I asked, giving him a small smile.

I didn’t miss the way his eyes ghosted over my entire form, lingering on my tattoos. First, flowers and a crescent moon chest piece that was visible thanks to my thin straps and the low cut of my jumpsuit. Then he looked at the tattoo on my left forearm. It was of four crows flying away with their feathers falling. Then to the sleeve on my right arm, I called my Witch arm; it had different witch theme designs.

When I scratched my cheek, I noticed the way he tracked every movement of it, seeing the Medusa head I had tattooed on the back of my hand. I had more tattoos that were hidden underneath my clothes but the thought of him stripping me to trace over them with his tongue made my face burn and I shifted on my feet.

Finally, he shrugged. “Surprise me.”

Pursing my lips, I grabbed a plate and the tongs, deciding on two small pieces of my grandma’s famous Kanelbullar. She passed down the recipe to me in hopes I would continue to sell them at the cafe.

“These are a huge hit with everyone. My grandma’s recipe,” I said while handing him the plate.

“Oh?” The man raised a brow as he looked down at the plate on the counter.

Suddenly my palms began to sweat as he assessed the dessert. “They’re called kanelbullar; a famous Swedish desert. Otherwise known as cinnamon buns. Some people are turned off by it at first because of how it looks but I promise, they’re delicious. I made them myself this morning. All of these desserts are made fresh every morning. ”

Now the man was smirking. “Swedish, huh?”

I nodded. “My grandparents were born in Sweden and moved here to start their dream of opening Fika. When they retired, they moved back.”

“Are you Swedish?”

I cringed. “Fifty percent but don’t ask me to speak it because I’ll butcher it.”

“How much?” He asked with a laugh while pointing to the plate.

I waved him off while ringing his total up on the credit card machine. “I’ll charge you just for the coffee, in case you don’t like the kanelbullar. But, it’s a one-time thing.”

I playfully pointed a finger at him, one he chuckled at before taking his card back.

“That’s very sweet of you, thank you,” he gave me a smile that made me weak in the knees.

Clearing my throat, I brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and reached for a cardboard cup. “Can I have a name for the order?”

“Joakim.”

I paused mid-writing. “Uh, do you mind spelling it? I don’t want to be the kind of a barista that messes up people's names.”

“You can call me Jolly,” he chuckled.

“See,” I pointed the marker at him. “That I can spell. Joakim is an interesting name though.”

I began pouring the coffee into his cup but nearly spilled it when his next words shocked me.

“It’s Swedish.”

“Wait,” I set down the pot and cup before turning back to him. “Are you telling me you let me ramble on about a Swedish dessert when you fully knew what it was?”

The man, Jolly, was full-on grinning now as he popped one of the kanelbullars in his mouth, licking off the sticky cinnamon syrup. I had to force myself to bite back a moan at the sight.

“Du var söt så jag sa inget,” Jolly said, then took a drink of his coffee when I handed it to him.

With my furrowed brows of confusion, he chuckled. “You have no idea what I’m saying do you?”

“Not a fucking thing,” I giggled while scrunching my nose. “I was born here in California and my grandma only taught me the basics but those are long forgotten.”

“How long have you owned the place?” He wondered.

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “A few months now but I only recently reopened. When I took it over after my father, it needed a lot of upgrades and fixes. Which it still does. But I plan on selling it once it is ready.”

Jolly raised a brow. “You’re going to sell?”

“Uh, yeah,” I rubbed my elbow nervously. “Owning this place was never my endgame. It’s been in the family for years, yes, but the potential of the money if I sell would help out a lot.”

Tears gathered in the corner of my hazel eyes when I knew deep down the real reason why I wanted to sell; it reminded me too much of my father.

“You’ve created a nice place here,” he admitted while looking around at the place. “The plants add a nice touch.”

I had a variety of different plants littered all over the place as a way to bring life and color into the dull lighting.

I hummed. “Here I thought it was the coffee that brought you in every day.”

“Oh, it is, however, I’m more into the barista who made it today,” Jolly winked.

My cheeks burned all the way to the tops of my ears. “Oh, well. That’s very sweet of you.”

With the cup in one hand and plate in the other, Jolly winked. “Thank you, Astrid. I’ll be coming back for a refill.”

“I’ll be here to help with that,” I rushed out a bit fast and mentally cursed myself for sounding desperate.

But then I realized he said my name and the way it sounded on his lips made my core itch with desire.

“You know my name?” I asked while twirling my fingers.

“I’ve heard it quite a lot the last week from your employees needing something,” he joked.

I playfully rolled my eyes while making a new batch of black coffee so he could have the fresh stuff when he needed it. “I love them. It’s not their fault this place is old and falling apart.

Jolly sat in his typical booth that was near the ride side of the counter, in front of the window. “Do you know the meaning behind your name?”

“I know it’s Swedish,” I answered with a shrug.

He nodded. “It means divinely beautiful.”

Now my entire body was inflamed with how Jolly was staring at me, his dark eyes devouring me, but before I could respond, Sean and Tori emerged from the back.

“Alright, boss. Where do you want us?” Tori clapped her hands.

Her break was over and Sean must have finished his training video.

“Tori, you’re working the private party. They should be here by 3 so can you make sure everything in the loft is set up?” I asked.

She nodded with a wide smile. “Of course. Who’s it this time?”

When I took over Fika, I noticed there was this huge, unused space upstairs that I could use for either extra seating if we got too busy or for private events. Tonight, there was a local book club that rented out the space.

“LA’s Book Ladies.”

“Again? Weren’t they here last week?” Sean asked.

Nodding, I handed Tori the box of supplies she would need to set up the loft before ushering her away. “They're interested in renting out the space every Thursday for their book club.”

The bell above the door indicated a new group of customers; Laura’s study group.

I motioned Sean over to them. “Jessica will be here in five minutes. She can help you prepare their order once you take it.”

Once Sean scurried over towards the group, I darted my gaze over to where Jolly was sitting, noticing that he had headphones on as he worked on his laptop, the plate empty.

Before I could bring him another round of coffee and kanelbullars, my phone rang and I immediately recognized the number.

“Hi, mormor,” I smiled into the phone.

“Min älskling,” my grandmother’s old, frail voice made me smile even wider. “How are things?”

With the sudden commotion from the study group settling in, I decided to take the rest of my phone call in my office.

JOLLY

“Son of a fucking bitch!”

Snapping my eyes up from my phone, I watched Astrid with a small smile as she stepped onto the small ladder to hang up a guitar, only to be a few inches short. She’d been working on hanging up guitars on the black wall for the last ten minutes, something I watched with intent and curious eyes.

It had been a few days since our first conversation and since then, we shared stolen glances anytime I was here and she was working up front. We talked when she wasn’t busy but it always pertained to the same topic.

“How's your coffee?”

“Would you like a refill?”

Astrid did try to deter me from my usual order but I always stayed the same.

Black coffee with two scoops of sugar. I did, however, let her decide on my sweets. Today it was something simple; baklava.

Another thing she baked herself.

When Astrid slid over the coffee to me this morning, I curled a brow at the mug she had given me. She merely shrugged with a coy smile before busying herself with going about and watering all the plants in the cafe.

I snicked while grabbing the white mug that had ‘Jolly’ written across it and sat in my usual booth in front of the large window. The green velvet of the bench seat and the oak wood of the table I sat at became a sense of familiarity.

Out of the corner of my eye, I marveled at how her ice-white hair was pulled back into a tight bun, showcasing her defined cheekbones and bright hazel eyes. Astrid’s leg was exposed due to the long slit in her long black skirt and I caught a glimpse of the tattoo on her shin; a moth, a rose, and a half-crescent moon. She was covered in tattoos and I couldn’t ignore the voice in my head that begged me to find out if she had any other ones hidden.

When I was walking downtown a few weeks ago and saw the opening soon sign on the battered door of Fika, I was curious about who was taking over. I used to stop in every once in a while when Astrid’s father ran the place but ever since my life and work schedule with Bad Omens took off, I came in less and less.

But that day when I saw Astrid’s faint figure covered in a type of green paint as she painted the walls, I was transfixed. The vision of her took my breath away and I stopped to watch her for a few seconds. The few times I stopped in when her father owned the cafe, I never noticed her. So when I heard that she was the one taking over, I decided to make more of an effort to stop in when I could, however, I never expected I’d be here every other day.

Noah called me out last week about how often I came here and told me not to “fall in love”. I had no intention to, not wanting to get into a relationship with how often I was gone on the road, but the second my eyes met with hers, I knew Astrid would consume every part of me.

“I chose the wrong day to wear my fucking vans.”

Shaking from my thoughts, I peered over to Astrid as she now stood on the tips of her toes to try and hang up a guitar on one of the highest hooks.

“Need some help?” I asked while rising to my feet.

She was only a few feet away from where I’d been sitting.

“Oh, no, Jolly. I don’t want to bother you,” Astrid said, waving me off.

I shrugged while brushing the hair away from my face; opting to leave it down today.

“I mean this is the nicest way possible Astrid, but you’re shorter than me. I could reach that hook with ease,” I informed.

She playfully gawked with a hand over her heart, the other clutching the guitar. “My, I thought you were one of the sweeter ones.”

I chuckled and motioned her to step off the ladder. “Get off of there before you hurt yourself.”

“I’ll have you know,” she came down the three-rung ladder, “I did every single update in this place. Without hurting myself.”

I took the guitar from her with a raised brow. “Are you sure about that?”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe I tripped over a bucket of paint and cut my finger while setting up the new coffee machine but that’s it.”

“For now,” I joked while taking a tentative step toward her.

“Oh, someone thinks they’re funny today,” she crossed her arms but the smile on her blood-red lips told me she was loving our banter.

With mere inches between us, Astrid peered up at me through her long lashes and swallowed thickly.

“Well, I must say. You are taller than me,” her voice was quiet but yet loud enough just for me to hear.

My fingers itched with the want to brush away the loose strand of hair that hung in her eyes. When her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip, I internally groaned at how seductive that simple action was and I almost had to force myself to take a step away from her. One of my hands was still holding onto the guitar, and the other was hanging to my side, so close to Astrid’s that I could feel the heat radiating off of her. Our eyes were locked with each other, my dark ones paled in comparison to her bright hazel ones. They burned deep into my soul, in the best way, and I found myself swimming in their depths. I was hypnotized by her gaze that I didn’t realize our fingers brushed against one another, sparks shooting through my entire essence with the simple touch of her skin on mine.

“How many do you have left to hang up?” I cleared my throat, breaking the sudden sexual tension, and held up the guitar.

“Uh,” Astrid blinked. “Just two more. I have to run to the back to grab the last one.”

With a nod, I let her run off to grab the last guitar as I took the two steps up the step ladder, hanging up the guitar I had on its designated hook. Once back on my feet, I took a few steps back to admire how the guitar wall looked. The bright red, neon FIKA sign was in the middle with one unused hook underneath it.

“Here we go!” Astrid smiled as she came back to the front of the cafe. “Please be careful with this one. It’s an old one and means a lot.”

For once, she didn’t have my full attention. It was on the guitar in her hand.

A blue Teisco Del Rey ET-312. Otherwise known as a sharkfin guitar. Something I made known.

“You know guitars, huh?” she asked as I gently took it from her.

“Yeah, I know a thing or two,” I kept my answer simple, not wanting to give too much about me away. It was clear she had no idea who I was outside of the cafe and I wanted to keep it like that for a little while longer.

As I gazed down at it, Astrid told me the story behind it.

“It was my grandfather's. He absolutely loved playing it when he wasn’t spending all of his time here. I remember he let me play it one Christmas when I was 7. I was terrible and my parents vowed to never put me into any lessons to save their ears,” she ended her story with a light chuckle.

“He didn’t take it back with him when they moved back to Sweden?” I asked, remembering she told me her grandparents moved back a few years ago.

“Nope. He gave it to me. I’m not sure why, though. I never learned to play. Hopefully, he won’t be so mad that I decided to hang it up.”

Ever so carefully, I went back up the step ladder and placed it on its hook. It wasn’t until I was standing next to Astrid again that I gave her a wicked smile.

“This looks pretty badass, Astrid. I love how it turned out,” I admired.

She smiled, eyes sparkling as she looked at it. “Me too. Thank you for your help, Jolly.”

Astrid bumped her shoulders with mine and not only did the sparks return but so did the fluttering in my stomach.

The bell above the door jingled, making her jump slightly before turning around, her voice raising an octave to greet the customer.

“Hi, welcome to Fika!”

I didn’t miss the ‘woah’ under her breath and with furrowed brows, I turned on my heels but rolled my eyes at who walked in the door.

Noah took one look between Astrid and me, how close we were standing next to each other, and the corner of his lips curled up.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“What can I get you?” Astrid asked as she walked over to the register behind the counter.

“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you, though,” Noah declined politely while holding a hand over his chest.

“You sure you don’t want some mochis? I hear they’re pretty special,” I teased.

Noah shot me a glare, one I ignored by packing up my things. He must have finished his therapy session early and we're going to head to rehearsals for the next two days to prepare for the upcoming week-long festivals Bad Omens were set to headline.

“You two know each other?” Astrid pointed between us.

“He’s my roommate,” I answered before Noah could.

He picked up on how rushed my answer was but knew with my pleading eyes not to say anything else about how we know each other.

“I’m Noah,” he extended his hand towards her.

She smiled while shaking it. “Astrid. Owner of Fika.”

“I’ve heard great things about you. And this place. It’s one of Jolly’s favorites,” Noah said.

Astrid’s eyes glinted as we looked at each other and I swore all of the oxygen left my lungs with how intense her gaze was.

She hummed low. “I’m starting to realize that.”

Hiding my burning cheeks beneath the length of my hair, I cleared my throat and patted Noah on the back.

“We should go.”

He nodded at me before turning back to Astrid. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe next time, I’ll join Jolly.”

“Sure,” she nodded, still wearing that beautiful smile. “Oh, here. At least take some coconut water for the road!”

Astrid bent down to reach into the fridge and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her. Noah snickered next to me which in turn, made me smack his chest.

“Fuck, man,” he grunted while rubbing it.

“Here you guys go!” She handed us the two bottles of coconut water and my fingers grazed hers yet again when I grabbed mine.

This time it was Astrid who seemed affected by it with the way her breath hitched and quickly stuffed her hands in the pockets of her long skirt.

“What do I owe you?” Noah asked while reaching for his wallet.

“On the house,” she said.

“Now I can see why Jolly likes you,” Noah ran a hand through his hair.

The new shorter length was something not only he but I was getting used to. As long as I’d known him, Noah had some sort of long hair.

Before I could retort, one of her employees came rushing up behind Astrid, needing her attention for something.

“Sean, they’re just raccoons. As long as you leave them alone, they won’t bother you,” she laughed.

The noise made my heart ache in my chest, wanting to be the only one to be the reason why she laughed like that.

“I’m telling you, Astrid. There are at least six of them now. How am I supposed to throw away the trash if they’re living in the dumpster?”

With a deep sigh, she excused herself from us with a small wave and that was my cue to pull Noah along as we stepped out into the late Los Angeles afternoon air.

He took a long drink of his coconut water as we walked towards his car which was parked down the block.

“So that’s Astrid,” he noted with a hum.

“Don’t start,” I grumbled while putting on my sunglasses.

Noah held up his hands. “She’s cute, Jolly. I can see why you spend a lot of time here. Though it doesn’t seem like she knows who either of us is.”

I shook my head with a thankful breath. “No, she doesn’t. Although you seemed to take her breath away when she saw you.”

He snorted. “You don’t have to worry. I only have eyes for-.”

“I know, I know,” I waved him off before he finished his sentence.

It was clear who Noah only had eyes for. It took a long time for him to finally realize that.

We reached Noah’s car and as he stood in front of the driver's door and me on the passenger side, we both rested our arms on the hood of the car. Noah’s almond eyes were hidden behind his black sunglasses but I knew they were assessing my face.

“Do you plan on telling her who you are and what you do?” He wondered.

“If I’m being honest, it’s been nice not having her know or treating me differently.”

Noah nodded. “I understand that. But take it from me, not communicating the truth can delay things. And it’s not healthy.”

Understatement of the year.

“I’ll tell her; soon,” I said.

“What is she going to think when you’re gone for 9 days and don’t show up for your daily coffee?”

“We should go, you know how Matt gets when we’re late,” I said, changing the subject, and opened the door to slide into the passenger seat.

Noah tapped the roof of his car before he followed my actions.

ASTRID

“I don’t know what to do, mormor. One guy put in an offer, it wasn’t great but enough to keep me afloat for a while if I do decide to sell,” I spoke into my phone as it was perched between my shoulder and ear, hands busy stocking the cafe.

“Astrid, I sense there’s something else stopping you,” my grandmother observed.

I shrugged with my free shoulder. “If I’m being honest, I like running Fika. It keeps me motivated to get out of bed every morning. My employees are great, same with the customers. I have a lot of regulars that tell me I should keep the place; keep it in the family name.”

One especially lingered on my mind always. His long brown hair, ever darker brown eyes, and that nose ring that seemed to accentuate his face perfectly.

“Min älskling, it’s whatever you decide. We left Fika to your father who in turn left it to you because we trust you. Don’t feel as if you need to keep it for us. We don’t want to see you do something with regret.”

I finished stocking the straws and went to work stocking the sugar packets. “I know. I do wish you and farfar could come visit and see what I’ve done with it.”

My heart sank when I thought of my grandfather and knowing the real reason why they couldn’t leave Sweden right now. My grandmother was still young and healthy enough to travel but she couldn’t leave my grandfather in case something happened to him.

Alzheimer's had slowly been deteriorating his brain, making life difficult for both of them. It was the same disease that took my father months ago.

My grandmother sighed. “Someday I’ll come visit. But your farfar-.”

“I know,” I said suddenly. “It’s alright.”

We talked for a few more minutes before I said goodbye and pocketed my phone into my jeans. Rolling up the sleeves of my orange cardigan I busied myself with more work. It was Saturday afternoon and Fika was busier than normal; the sunshine and cool LA weather brought everyone out.

Well, not everyone.

For the last week, anytime the bell above the door jingled, my head would snap up expecting to see Jolly, but every time my heart would drop when it wasn’t him. I had become so accustomed to seeing him almost every day that when he stopped coming in, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I had done.

Maybe he finally grew sick of your coffee. And you.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I went about mingling with some of my regulars. The cool air slipped inside as someone walked in through the door, tickling the exposed skin of my stomach because of the black lace bralette I wore.

Deciding to head to my office, I was in my head thinking about what I possibly could have done to make Jolly leave for a week, that I didn’t see the body I collided with until it was too late.

Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, large hands gripping the small of my back, as my hands sprawled out on the thick chest. Peering up through my lashes, I drank in the sight of those dark eyes.

“H-hi,” I stuttered while swallowing thickly.

“Hello,” Jolly smiled as his hands absentmindedly rubbed at my back.

The feeling sent a shockwave through my veins and I reveled in his touch, desperately needing it all over me.

His hair was hidden beneath the hat he wore, the hood of his black sweater pulled over that. There was a new look of exhaustion in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. It was as if the usual light behind them had dulled since our last encounter.

However the longer we stared at each other, I could see the light returning. I so badly wanted to ask him where he’d gone the last nine days but didn’t want to make it seem like I noticed. Even though I did.

I also found myself missing his presence after the third day he didn’t show up.

“The usual?” I asked after a beat of silence.

Jolly gave me a warm smile, hands still wrapped around me. “Have I worked myself up to a usual kind of guy?”

I playfully patted his chest. “It's easy when I can make your drink in my sleep.”

“I like what I like,” he said, keeping his eyes on mine as he did.

Silence fell between us as we continued to stay in each other's embrace, neither of us ready to break apart. Until Tori’s voice broke through the small bubble Jolly and I created.

“Astrid, there’s a Jackson on the phone for you.”

Shit.

Slowly removing myself from Jolly, I cleared my throat. “I have to take that, but give me a few minutes and I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

Turning my back to him, I took the cafe phone from Astrid while ignoring her smug smirk as she watched Jolly walk to his table.

“This is Astrid,” I answered the call.

“Astrid, this is Jackson Hewitt, I’m calling about that little coffee shop you own on the corner of W. 9th Street. Freka.”

“Fika,” I corrected with a stern voice.

This was our third conversation and he still couldn't pronounce the name correctly; either he couldn’t or didn’t bother enough to care.

“Right,” he cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m calling to check in to see if you’ve thought about my offer.”

Staying on the phone with him, I poured the black coffee with two scoops of sugar into the white Jolly cup and plated two chocolate chip cookies.

“You only sent the offer the other day, Jackson. I need longer than that to think if I accept or not,” I said as I made my way over towards where Jolly sat.

His usual booth in the corner by the large window.

“Or not?” Jackson repeated my words. “Come on, Astrid. This is probably the best deal you will get for that place. It’s better if you take it now because I can’t promise it will be the same amount next time I make it.”

I set the plate and coffee down on the table in front of Jolly with a bit of force, not meaning to, so he glanced up at me.

“Listen, Jackson. With absolutely no respect, I’m not interested in selling my place to someone who’s going to turn it into a chain restaurant. If I lose money, so what? At least I kept my dignity and didn’t sell out.”

I placed my hand on my hip, still standing in front of Jolly who watched me with a slight smirk.

“Woah, Astrid. In no way are you selling out. I just have great plans for that space. I know how hard it has been keeping it afloat after your father died.”

My body went rigid as a low scowl pulled on my lips. This asshole knew absolutely nothing about my father or how well Fika had been doing. The first few weeks were rough but I found a good rhythm and soon, we began to flourish. The income had been steady for everything and everyone involved.

Plus, I hadn’t smiled or felt this good about my future in a long time.

“My father and his passing have nothing to do with my decision. You’ve never stepped foot inside of Fika, so don’t pretend you know how my business is doing,” I did my best to keep myself composed in front of the customers, especially Jolly.

“You know what, I’ll give you another day to think-.”

“No, I’ve made my decision. Fika is no longer for sale, thanks for your interest but please do not contact me again.”

Before Jackson could respond, I hung up the phone and pinched my eyes shut; the ongoing onslaught of a migraine creeping its way into my head.

“You’ve decided not to sell?”

Jolly’s soft voice made me jump slightly and when our gazes met, it pulled me in to sit across from him.

“Yeah,” I nodded while tapping my fingers against the table. “I’ve talked with my grandma a little bit about it. She supports me no matter what I decide but I couldn’t imagine letting this place go. It has too many memories behind it.”

“It’s a great place, Astrid. You should be proud of what you’ve done here,” he said.

I smiled. “I am. I’ve slowly put myself into this place so I can’t let it go.”

“Well,” Jolly took a small sip of his coffee. “I’m glad you’ve decided to keep it.”

I rested my chin on my palm. “Me too. It helps that the clientele have been so wonderful.”

A low rumble emanated from his chest as he pointed to his coffee. “Does anyone else get a special cup with their name on it?”

“No, those are saved for the real special ones,” I winked.

Something dark flashed in Jolly’s eyes as he leaned farther back into his chair, extending his long legs on the right side of me, locking them at his ankles. My eyes dragged up the length of them until my gaze landed on his eyes, a playful gleam behind them as he caught me staring at him.

My cheeks burned as I shifted in my seat.

“Nervous?” Jolly questioned with a sudden darkness in his voice as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

We were so close now, that I could feel his warm breath across my face.

“N-nope.” I did my best to remain calm and poised but was failing. Something he immediately picked up on.

“Are you sure about that?”

Licking my lips, I parted them to speak, something Jolly tracked with intense eyes. My pussy was aching with such a force of desire I was afraid he would be able to smell my desire with how close he was to me. There was this sudden pull between us that made me lean up towards him, Jolly’s lips meters from mine. I almost missed the intake of his breath, the sound muted with the hustle and bustle of the cafe.

“Astrid, the delivery truck is outside!”

Jumping away slightly from Jolly, I cleared my throat while looking towards the counter, Sean waving me over.

“I should-.” I threw a thumb over my shoulder when I looked back at Jolly.

He nodded, adjusting the hat on his head. “Of course.”

With one final glance, I stepped out of the booth and spent the next long while putting away the respective boxes from our weekly delivery. It was a bit larger than normal so by the time I finished, it was nearing 4 in the evening and when I emerged up the front of the cafe, the large groups that were there earlier dwindled to only a few.

“How have things been?” I asked Jessica.

She was wiping down the front counter and shrugged. “Not too bad. A steady influx of customers. But one managed to stay the entire time you were busy.”

“Almost as if he was waiting for you,” Tori popped up from in front of the counter as she was cleaning the glass of the dessert display case.

I crossed my arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sean snorted from his spot in the little kitchen to my left. “Astrid, this guy has been in here almost every single day and stays for a few hours all while looking at you. Take it from me, this guy is interested.”

While they were a few years younger than me, I didn’t brush off their observations yet.

“Jolly is a regular,” I started to defend.

Tori’s eyes widened. “That’s why you’ve been giving him his coffee in that cup!”

I hushed her with a wave of a hand when other customers peered over at us. Thankfully, it seemed as if Jolly had his headphones in as he clicked away at his laptop.

“You should give him your number,” Jessica suggested.

“No,” I shot down with a shake of my head.

Although the prospect of giving Jolly my number did make my heart flutter.

“Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen? He ignores you?” Tori wondered.

I placed my hands on my hips. “Don’t you guys have better things to do than worry about my dating life?”

“He’s here almost every day and I hate to break it to you, but it’s not because of the coffee. He can have simple black coffee at home but he chooses to come here,” Sean said once he finished cleaning one of the ovens.

“I’m going to see if he needs anything else,” Jessia piped up, quickly scurrying around the counter.

Her name fell in a hushed tone as I watched her walk over to where Jolly sat. Their conversation couldn’t be heard from my spot in the cafe but when he smiled politely at her with a nod, my stomach fluttered with those damn butterflies. Every part about Jolly made my skin buzz with electricity and heat. Jessica returned to the front counter with a sly smirk.

“Jolly said he will take a coffee for the road and a dozen of you famous Kanelbullar’s. Oh, and a pack of those chocolate mochis. Something about a friend of his loving those. But Tori and I can’t make his order because we have to clean the loft.”

“We do?” Tori asked with confusion which made Jessica smack her arm. “Oh, yes! Right. We do. Sean, can you take care of Jolly’s order?”

“No can do. It’s time for my break,” Sean said as he walked into the back.

I playfully narrowed my eyes at all three of them. “You guys think you’re so slick but I know what you’re doing.”

As the three of them dispersed, I went to work on getting Jolly’s to go order together. With my fingers wrapped around the togo cup, I mewled at my decision for a long moment before internally saying fuck it. The worst that can happen is that he ignores my texts.

And break your heart in the process.

Choosing to ignore that thought, I scribbled down my number with the letter A on the cup, then filled it with black coffee and two scoops of sugar. As I was bagging his desserts, Jolly came up to the counter with his card in hand.

“Tell your friend these mochis are a favorite here,” I smiled.

“I’ll make sure to let him know. He kind of has a weird obsession with them,” he chuckled.

Ringing him up for everything, I handed back his card then hesitantly his cup and bag of goodies. Jolly gave nothing away that he saw my number written in black ink on his cup.

“So, see you tomorrow?” I asked, not being able to hide the hope in my voice.

He ran a hand over his jaw. “I actually have this party that will have my attention all day. But I’ll be back on Sunday. Can't go too long without these Kanelbullars.”

The front counter stood between us and with the way he smiled, I wanted to jump across it into his arms.

Instead, I decided to remain professional and nodded. “Well, I’ll make sure to have a fresh batch for you on Sunday.”

With a wink, Jolly raised the cup to his lips to take a small sip of his coffee. “I can’t wait, Astird.”

The way my name fell from his lips nearly made me moan in pleasure and I wanted to hear him say it again; the accent doing wonders for it.

With a gentle wave, I watched him walk out of the cafe before busing myself to help close up the cafe. Every so often I would peek at my phone to see if there was a new message from an unknown number and every time, my heart would sink when I realized there wasn’t.

Just as I was about to give up hope, my phone buzzed when I was locking up the front door and walking to my car parked across the street.

Unknown: Hi, it’s Jolly. Apologies it took me a while to text you. I noticed your number on the cup the second you handed it to me. But with work, it pulled me away from my phone. So now that I have a minute, hi.

I grinned as I read the message over a few more times before plopping into the driver's seat of my car. I debated on how to respond for a few minutes.

Me: Hi :) how did your friend like the mochis?

As I finished saving his contact, Jolly responded.

Joakim: Loved them. Ate half of the Kanelbullar as well.

I giggled at the next message that came in; a simple frown emoji.

Me: Well, I’ll make sure to throw in a few extra just for you next time.

Joakim: I’m looking forward to it.

With the smile still plastered to my face, I plugged in my phone to my car and for the first time in a long while, enjoyed the drive home after a long day's work.

ASTRID

I opened Fika about two hours ago, a slow steady stream of customers coming in as soon as the door opened, and I’d been carefully watching to see if Jolly would show up. We texted for a little while yesterday since I was home sick in bed and when he sent me a picture of the outfit he wore to his party, I had to pause my movie to stare at it. Black jeans, black long sleeves, and a black jacket on top.

With the large mirror I had leaning against one of the cafe walls, something I set up for people to take selfies in front of with their coffees, I brushed away any lint on my black sweater dress and adjusted my tights. I made sure not a strand of hair fell out of my French braid and smiled to myself.

“You know what they said about Narcissus,” Sean chuckled as he caught me giving myself another once over.

“Ha, ha,” I narrowed my eyes while resting my hands on my hips. “Shouldn’t you be bussing tables?”

“Waiting for a certain someone?” He teased with a raised brow before he went to work cleaning up the tables.

Before I could retort, the bell above the door rang which made me turn swiftly on my feet. My heart rate picked up at the sight of Jolly as he walked in with two other guys on each side of him. His hair was falling to his shoulders in chocolate waves and when he took off his sunglasses, his dark amber eyes immediately found me to scan every inch of me. I felt frozen but hot under his gaze and pulled at the ends of my sweater dress, suddenly feeling as if it wasn’t perfect enough for him.

“Hi,” Jolly smiled.

The two men he came in with watched us with curious smiles, the one of Jolly’s left I recognized as his roommate that came in here a few weeks ago.

"Hey you, the usual?" I asked.

He smiled with a slight nod. "You know me so well."

I peered over to the two others, pointing to the one I recognized. “Noah, right?”

The heavily tattooed man nodded while adjusting the hood of his sweater and that's when I noticed the writing along the front of it.

“Oh, shit. Hereditary! I love that movie,” I exclaimed.

Noah's eyes brightened. “Yeah?”

“A24 has made some phenomenal films. Although, the ending kind of fucked me up,” I admitted with a laugh.

As I looked over to the other man who wore glasses, I missed the look that Jolly and Noah shared.

“Hi, I’m Astrid.”

“Jesse,” he held a hand against his chest. “Jolly’s other roommate. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about this place.”

“Oh,” I gazed back over to Jolly, never taking my eyes off of him. “All good things, I hope?”

Jolly licked his lips. “Definitely.”

It seemed as if time slowed to almost a stop as we stared at each other and there was a pull deep within my soul that made me want to step into his embrace, letting him wrap those arms around me.

Clearing my throat finally, I motioned to the coffee machines. “What can I get you guys?”

Already knowing Jolly’s order, Noah and Jesse gave me theirs and I went to work getting it ready while they sat in Jolly’s regular booth. When Tori came in for her shift, I asked if she could carry Noah’s and Jesse’s drinks while I carried Jolly’s and the large plate of a variety of sweets for them.

“The one in the black hoodie is cute,” Tori nodded towards Noah.

I tilted my head towards her. “Oh, what happened to Tyler?

“Ugh, don’t say his name. I want to forget the last two weeks of my life with that man,” Tori stated.

“Fair enough,” I nodded firmly and chuckled.

“Besides,” she shook out her long red locks, “I seemed to have found someone else to occupy my mind with.”

“Tori,” I warned as we walked over to the guys’ table.

“Here you guys go,” she all but ignored Jesse while smiling down at Noah as she gave him his drink.

Noah kept his attention on his phone, only briefly giving Tori a smile of thanks before he went back to typing away on his phone. Her confidence deflated but she still kept that brightening smile on her face.

As I set down Jolly’s cup and plate of fresh kanelbullar as promised, he gazed up at me with a smile.

“Thank you, Astrid.”

I shivered at the way he said my name.

“Of course. Do you guys need anything else?” I asked all three of them.

“Actually,” Noah spoke up while giving me his full attention. “My girlfriend is meeting us here and asked if I can put her coffee order in.”

Tori faux sighed before retreating to behind the coffee counter. Jesse watched her with raised brows.

“Tori will be fine,” I chuckled. “What does your girlfriend want to drink?”

“Medium chai tea iced with oat milk, please,” Noah smiled warmly as he rattled off the drink; almost as if he was remembering a memory.

“Oh, a girl after my own heart,” I joked. “What’s her name?”

After Noah told me her name, I tapped the table twice before stalking back to the coffee bar, feeling a set of hot eyes on my back the entire time. I was quick to make the drink, all while humming a soft tune to myself, and as I turned back to bring the drink to Noah, the bell above the door rang. I watched as a brunette walked in, eyes gazing almost over every inch of my space with a faint smile before she noticed the guys. Quietly, she tiptoed over to Noah and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Just watching how the two of them interacted and all the love in their eyes, as they stared at each other before Noah cupped her cheek to lay a kiss on her lips, made my heart yearn for love like that.

"Sorry I'm late,” the brunette apologized as Noah pulled out the seat next to him. “Chase and Malcolm wanted to catch up after the album release party.”

"Order for Y/N!" I called out with a smile.

The brunette, Y/N, went to stand, but Noah was quick to force her gently back into her seat. “No, angel. Let me get it.”

My eyes locked with Jolly’s and he quickly waved off his friends. “I can do it. Sit.”

While he walked towards the counter, I noticed Noah mutter something in Y/N’s ear, her giggling widely.

“Could I also get a few mochis?” Jolly asked as he reached me.

I nodded. “Of course. Any specific flavor?”

“Whichever is fine. Y/N and Noah have a weird connection with them.”

My brows furrowed as I went about to plate a few of them. “Really?”

“That’s his nickname,” Jolly smiled as I handed him the plate of mochis and Y/N’s coffee.

“A nickname, huh?” I wiped my hands on the sides of my dress before leaning my elbows on the counter to rest my chin in my palm.

“Don’t tell him I told you, he gets uptight.” He chuckled while leaning down towards me.

I peered up at him while fake-locking my lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Have you,” Jolly’s fingers grazed over one of the tattoos on my arm and I shivered under his touch. “Have you ever had a nickname?”

His tattooed fingers brushed back the long strands of hair as I gazed upon the sharp features of his face, the defined cheekbones, and the facial hair that surrounded his perfect, plump lips.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been given a nickname," I answered truthfully.

“Oh well that’s just a shame,” Jolly shrugged.

His confidence gave me some of my own and I gazed up at him through my lashes as he continued to stand on the other side of the counter.

“It is," I tucked a strand of my white hair that somehow fell from my French braid behind my ears. "Any suggestions?”

“Käraste," Jolly said almost too quickly, as if he thought about this before.

My cheeks burned as I locked eyes with him. Hearing the unknown word fall from his lips made my stomach flip and pussy clench. I squeezed my legs together to curb the itch.

“What? Too much?” He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

I quickly shook my head to reassure him while standing straight up on my feet. “No. No, I- I like it. What does it mean?”

With a smirk, Jolly tapped the counter before grabbing the cup and plate of mochis. "I think I'll keep that to myself."

I chuckled while shaking my head and watched as he walked back over to the corner couch, where his friends waited for him.

For a while, I was busy running the front counter while Sean and Tori worked the kitchen area. There’d been a slow steady stream of customers that kept us all busy but I knew that at some point I needed to slip back into my office for management work. However, before I did that, I brought the pot of black coffee and a small jar of sugar over to Jolly to refill his cup and then set down the sugar.

“Hi, I’m Y/N!”

Giving her a bright smile, I shook her extended hand. “Hi, I’m Astrid.”

Y/N motioned to Jolly. “I’m glad I listened to him about coming here. I’ve been wanting to for a while now, my therapist is right next door, and every time I walk past, the smell of the sweets gets me.”

“Oh, Dr. Poulos! She comes in every day before her two p.m. appointment and gets a small cup of Greek coffee and baklava to go,” I informed.

Noah spoke next. “You know, I noticed the to-go bag in her office one time but never put two and two together.”

Y/N linked her fingers with his to rest them in her lap. “Well, it’s a lovely place you have here. The mochi are delicious.”

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Well, I won’t bother you guys any longer. If you guys need anything else, let Tori or Sean know and they’d be happy to help you.”

Before I could walk away, Jolly’s fingers grazed over mine and I peered down at him.

“Thank you, käraste.”

My cheeks burned as I squeezed his hand and slipped away from them, into the confines of my office to enjoy the way the nickname set every fiber of my being ablaze.

Since it was Sunday, I always closed Fika at 5 p.m. so I could enjoy the rest of my evening at home. So for the next few hours, I spent time in my office to finish my bookwork. By quarter to five, I dismissed Tori and Sean, sending them home, and walked up front to start closing up. Nearly tripping over my feet, I was shocked to see Jolly was still sitting in his booth.

“You’re still here?” I asked, coming to a stop in front of his table.

He shrugged while closing his laptop. “I know the shop is closing soon and wanted to make sure you’re fine closing up by yourself.”

I quickly shook my head. “Oh, you don’t have to do that, Jolly. It’ll be a while before I’m ready to leave and I can’t ask you to stay around and wait for me,”

“You didn’t ask. I offered,” he smiled while rising from the table, and going about to help me clean up.

We worked in silence as I shut down the machines and when I was shutting off the lights, hiking my bag up on my shoulder, I let Jolly lead me out the front door so I could lock it, not before setting the alarm.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Jolly asked.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I bit my lip and nodded.

The setting sun cast him in an orange hue, with pinks, and purples emanating from behind him and I sucked in a breath and how gorgeous he looked. We began walking step by step to the back alley where I parked my car, Jolly’s fingers grazing over mine and it was just enough contact to make my heart hammer loud and hard in my chest.

“Your friends seem really nice,” I said, finally breaking the silence, as we came to a stop in front of my car.

Jolly smiled. “They are. I love them, they’re my family.”

My lips pulled in a tight line. “It must be a nice thing to have. I’m the only family I have here.”

He picked up on the way my voice faltered with my words but didn’t want to press the issue. Instead, he lifted a hand to brush away a strand of hair, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers were on the side of my neck and I let my eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

“You’re welcome anytime with us, Astrid,” Jolly’s voice was hushed.

Now his fingers were wrapped behind my neck to tilt my head up towards him. Opening my eyes, I sucked in a breath at how close his lips were to mine, his warm breath fanning over my bottom lip.

“I’d like that,” I admitted with my bottom lip caught between my teeth.

His eyes scanned my face. “We’re having a small party tomorrow night. A little housewarming thing. I’d love it if you’d come.”

We were so close now, that I could almost taste his lips.

“You would?” I questioned.

Jolly eyes told me his answer before his words did. “Definitely.”

When I first opened Fika, I told myself not to fall into bed with the first handsome customer I met because it could spell disaster if things went sour. I needed to focus on my business, not let a pair of dark almond eyes distract me. And yet, here I was sinking further deeper into the abyss of those eyes.

“Sure, I’ll be there,” I said while my hand gently played with the strings of his sweater.

One of his hands was still grasped behind my neck while his other rested on my hip. “Käraste, kan jag kyssa dig?”

I blinked up at him, confusion etched on my features, and I shook my head in his grasp. “What did you say?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Jolly’s voice dropped to a dangerously low level and it made my insides burn. My stomach flipped a few times over as he repeated the question in Sweden again and throwing out all the negative thoughts on how this could be a bad idea, I stood on the tips of my toes to close the small distance between us finally.

His lips were warm with the bitterness of his coffee but the sweetness of the kanelbullars. At first, we stood frozen, unsure who would make the next move, but soon Jolly’s tongue brushed against my bottom lip in a way to ask permission; one I immediately granted. His tongue glided over mine and it swallowed my moans when Jolly walked me back against my car, locking me in place with his hips.

What started as a slow, passionate kiss, suddenly became one with force. Teeth scraped against each other before biting into the flesh of lips, hands grasping at anything they could touch. Jolly's mouth never left mine as he focused solely on making every one of my senses ignite with a blaze that shot straight to my core. He held me in place with his large hands on my lower back while I ran my hands through the long strands of hair, reveling in the softness of them.

His scent engulfed my senses, making me dizzy, and when I fell into him Jolly made sure to hold me tighter. I felt the hardness of his cock pressed against my clit and dropped my head back against the car to let out a moan, one he quickly hushed by finding my lips again; almost as if he didn't want to let them go.

To let me go.

“Astrid,” he muttered against them, pressing his hips into me once again.

I was nearing release by his kiss and the gentle brush of his cock against me. My body was sensitive to his touch as rough fingers dragged down the sides of my face to pull me closer to him. Our tongues danced together in perfect harmony and I nipped then sucked on his bottom lip just before he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

“Woah,” I whispered while bringing my fingers to my lips.

Jolly brushed his mouth over them in a feathery peck. “If I’m being honest, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

I giggled while wrapping my arms around his back. “I’m glad we feel the same.”

We began to lead towards each other for another kiss but were interrupted by my phone going off. Reluctantly, I pulled away from Jolly to grab my phone from my purse, only to stare down at it with puzzled eyes.

“Everything alright?” Jolly asked while brushing a finger over my cheek.

I smiled into his touch and nodded. “Yeah. It seems like the cafe’s alarm is going off.”

With quick fingers, I disarmed the alarm from the app on my phone and then gazed up at him. His cheeks were flushed still from our kiss and his eyes were pure black now, pupils blown wide from his own desires.

Fuck, I wanted nothing more than to jump into the backseat of my car with him. Ride out the now fading high against his thigh.

Shaking my head at the thought, I motioned towards the cafe. “I should go check it out. Just in case.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I quickly shook my head. “No, it’s alright. I probably didn’t pull the door shut all the way so the sensor tripped. But I will see you tomorrow night?”

Jolly’s eyes lit up. “Of course. I’ll be busy helping the guys set up for the party so I might not make it in for my coffee.”

I made a show of rolling my eyes. “How will I ever survive without you?”

The corner of his mouth lifted with a smirk. “I’ll send you the address. Can you let me know everything is fine with the alarm then once you're home?”

My heart jumped into my throat at his request. “Of course. Do you need me to bring anything tomorrow?”

Jolly brought my hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle. “Just you, käraste.”

CONTINUE TO PART TWO HERE

#joakim jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson x ofc #jolly karlsson fanfic #joakim karlsson

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moose-muffin · 3 months

Note

im new here (hiya from the hazbin tag lol) but if you do character + character requests than please PLEASE gimmie a lee!vox with ler!alastor 🙏🙏🙏hear me out... the two are fighting and al (sHocKINglY) wins out, and vox expects to like.. be beaten into the ground as a result, but nope!! he gets tickled!!! to tears!!!! smthn smthn he wasnt smilin and, yk, youre never fully dressed w/o a smile!!!

/nf to do tho ty for reading!!! <3<3

OMG OMG HELLO WELCOME I HOPE YOURE DOING GOOD YIPPEE

SO FUN FACT I WAS VERY LIKE NEUTRAL TO RADIOSTATIC BUT TONIGHT HAS BEEN (HAHAH GET IT) AN ADVENTURE AND THIS ROAD HAS BEEN SUCH A BLAST <3 THOSE TWO FUCKERS ARE SO INSTIGATIVE ITS CRAZY.

I KNOWWWW THIS AS A FIC WOULD GO C R A Z Y!!!!! IDK IF ANYONE HERE WRITE FOR VOX AND ALASTOR AND PERHAPS DOES COMMISSIONS BUT I WILL PAY!!!! PLEASE HIT ME UP OR ILL PROBABLY GO TAKE A PEAK FOR MYSELF TMR <3 AS LONG AS THATS OK ANON. (I WILL ABSOLUTELY LET IT BE POSTED AS LONG AS THE AUTHOR IS OK WITH IT WHICH USUALLY THEY ARE!!!!) IM GONNA TAKE SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES AS I TYPICALLY DO HEADCANONS!

IM NOT USUALLY A CHARACTER + CHARACTER GIRLY SO BEAR WITH ME BUT I WILL DO MY VERY BEST!!!! HOPEFULLY I CAN DO THIS JUSTICE! IT WILL BE RANDOM HCS THAT ARE UNRELATED TOO. MY BRAIN IS A MESSY PLACE HWBSHWDBD

OK SO LIKE I KINDA MENTIONED, THEY BOTH LOOOOVE TO JUST GET UNDER PEOPLES SKIN. LOVE IT!!! ESPECIALLY ALASTOR. HES SUCH AN ASS (affectionate)

I’D EVEN SAY HE’S KIND OF AN INSTIGATIVE LER???? BRO IS DOING EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER TO GET TO TICKLE VOX LIKEEE IDK IF THAT EVEN MAKES SENSE BUT I KNOW ITS TRUE. HE WILL CASUALLY WIGGLE HIS FINGERS IN CONVERSATION, TWEAK HIS RIBS FROM BEHIND, LITTLE THINGS LIKE THAT. WELL THEYRE NOT LITTLE. ESPECIALLY NOT TO VOX WHO IS SO FLUSTERED BY IT… ITS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING

BUT! VOX HAS STARTED TO FIGURE IT OUT. AS HE IS ALSO ONE WHO LOVEEES TO GET UNDER SKIN, HE DECIDES HE’LL DO EVERYTHING TO TRIGGER A LER MOOD IN ALASTOR. IF HE CAN TELL HE ALREADY HAS ONE, HE FINDS WAYS TO SUBTLY (WE ALL KNOW HE ISNT SUBTLE THOUGH) LEAVE A SPOT UNPROTECTED. BUT ALASTOR DOESNT WANT TO GIVE HIM THE SATISFACTION!!! HE TRIES SO HARD TO NOT GIVE IN TO VOX BC HE “WANTED TO BE THE ONE IN CONTROL” AND NOW HE ISNT AND HES #PISSED

ALSO VOX ABSOLUTELY IS HORRIFIED OF VULNERABILITY. YET HE IS ABLE TO MOVE PAST IT WITH ALASTOR HERE. SOMEHOW HE ISNT AS WORRIED ANYMORE. MAYBE HE KNOWS ALASTOR WILL REACT. HE LOVES THAT SO VERY MUCH.

AS FOR THE SPECIFIC PROMPT, OH THAT IS SO REAL!!!! ABSOLUTELY YES!!!

I DONT WRITE GOOD ROMANCE BUT LIKE UGH IMAGINE IT NOW. Alastor definitely just got himself to the V’s tower and was planning on fucking with Vox only to see he had already been kinda pissed off. Alastor wouldn’t be as satisfied if he knew he didn’t cause the frustration. He realized he could just stir the pot again. Problem solved, and what better way to solve it than using his weakness against him.. being tickled.

I’m being a little silly but genuinely Vox is so ticklish. Like most ticklish person in hell would go to him if it were an official title. That’s what I’m thinking. That being said, Alastor also knows how quickly he could get him to crumble… but wouldn’t it be more fun to take it slow.

Vox notices his presence almost immediately. He tried to ignore it as he feels his face get warm. He can’t fuck this up. He takes a deep breath and turns around. “Why hello, Alastor! What brings you to our building this evening?” He said in a semi newcaster voice. He wasn’t ready to drop the act

“Well Vox, I came here for a reason of my own but then I walked by your office and you looked so sad!” He began to walk closer to Vox. “You know, t they say you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

Vox let out a laugh that was quite clearly untruthful. “Yes Alastor I am aware! I was alone in here and so I figured I’d just save up some energy. I’m sure you understand.”

“Quite frankly I don’t,” Alastor paused, “I think maybe I could help you get that smile back.”

Vox didn’t even have to think. He knew Alastor meant he was going to tickle him. You could ask Velvette. She’s seen those two in tickle fights that lasted for DAYS. she knows what they’re capable of, or more so what Alastor is capable of.

Vox puts up a fight for maybe a couple seconds but he just loves tickles more than he can play pretend that he doesn’t <3

It works out well for them both, Alastor gets to fuck around with Vox and well, Vox gets his shit rocked!!! And he loves that more than a lot of things.

OK IM GONNA CUT IT OFF HERE BUT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COME BACK!!!! IM ALWAYS DOWN TO HEAR WHAT PEOPLE ARE THINKING!! MAYBE ID DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAIN OR LIKE ADD ONTO THIS!!! BUT I AM JUST ALL OVER THE PLACE CURRENTLY HEHE. I HOPE THESE ARE ENJOYABLE!!! (LOWKEY I WANNA ADD MORE TO THISSSS MAYBE TMR MAYBE TMR WE’LL SEE)

apologies if anything is ooc, i just do this for funsies <3

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASKK

#madi’s answers!!#hazbin hotel tickle #madis hcs up in here #lee!vox #ler!alastor #AM I BECOMINF A RADIOSTATIC FAN…????#I THINK I AM TEHEHEHE #radiostatic tickle

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mooncrestedwaters · 19 days

Text

Immortalized Muses

Authors Word: Woo, ok, this took me easily two months to write.

This came to life after having a dream about Rafayel and I attending an art exhibition and him begging me to be in a picture with him after I refused. (Basically this is a glorified retelling of the dream tbh haha)

This is my first time displaying my writings on this account so I hope you all enjoy

- Mikaela 🤍🪽

Warnings/Themes: Mutual Pining, swearing/profanity, non-established relationship (they're friends/employer & employee), Rafayel throwing hints like confetti, mild smut(??), mentions of sexual tones of voice, mentions of alcohol/being tipsy and/or drunk, banter banter, Rafayel is a princess (big surprise)

Please let me know if I missed any themes

Tags: Rafayel x MC (MC is they/them so it can apply to any gender)

"Why do you keep disappearing?"

With a jump, y/n turned towards the intrusion of their solace.

"Rafayel..." With sheepish welcome, they bowed their head looking at their reflection in their drink, knowing that they'd wandered off again and left Rafayel alone at the after party for the exhibition, "Sorry, I just needed some air..."

He made a grunt of recognition and came to stand beside them, leaning his elbows on the intricate steel woven fence around the balcony, overlooking a calm rippling lake, decorated with trees and local habitations to be spotlighted by the gentle moon hung in the night sky, speckled with stars like diamonds on velvet to bounce off his sun kissed skin and lavender locks, "I thought you'd gone home."

Looking down into their drink they swished it around the glass, ice knocking against the crystal and straw poised between their index and middle finger, eager for another sip, "No, I wouldn't do that."

"Overwhelmed?"

They nodded in reply, "I just needed to take a break."

Rafayel's eyebrows creased, a pout working its way onto his charming features, "The reporters were taking pictures downstairs, I couldn't see you anywhere and had to make this perilous journey to find you."

They deadpanned, pursing their lips as Rafayel started his theatrics.

"For all I know you could've been swooped up by some criminal who'd gate crashed the party!"

"Aren't I supposed to be your bodyguard?" - they sipped their drink with a snide snort - "What do you pay me for if not to look after your safety and my own?"

He genuinely pouted now, shooting y/n a half hearted glare, "Oh, you know what I mean."

They smiled, genuinely knowing exactly what he meant.

"That lonely, hmm?"

Rafayel looked away, leaning back from the railing to stand tall, ears burning red, arms crossed as he kicked his heel out and spun away from y/n to saunter off with a huff, "Just come back downstairs already."

°°°°

Smoothing the silk of their outfit, y/n took a deep breath, their shoes clacking against the grandiose marble floors.

They felt a little out of place in such an outfit but Rafayel always insisted. Y/n had no choice when the ornate crisp white outfit made of silk and chiffon was laid on their bed, pearl accessories and details lined with tints of pastel blues.

Then Rafayel would insist on doing make-up for y/n, his skills on a paintbrush transferring to an array of beauty brushes.

Y/n always came out looking like the multiple zeros on a check he'd get for one of his paintings and they always felt their heart beat a little fast when they noted how much time and care Rafayel put into dressing them up to be the prized Belle of the Ball.

"Ah, there you are!" Rafayel greeted them, wrapping an arm around their shoulder and whispering a quick 'Help me!' in their ear.

Y/n chuckled but it soon died in their throat as they heard the business man drone on about monetary prospects of Rafayel's studio.

His arm was retrieved to his side and he showed utmost interest in the poor fool as he droned on, gums flapping like a pig at a troph, greed seeping into their every word and not a care for the art that Rafayel poured his blood, sweat and pearlescent tears into that was displayed around the exhibition like an ornate frame to the arrogant masses.

Y/n even swore they saw Rafayel's eyes twitch once or twice and couldn't tell if it was from the other mans ignorance, Rafayel's affinity with boredom or if their little rest bite from the party before was still grating on him.

They deemed it well to stay put and endure the rest of the night and took a sip of their drink, eyeing the bar like an old lover already.

"Hey, get me a red wine?" Rafayel whispered in their ear, goosebumps flooding their skin, "I fucking need it."

They looked at him from the corner of their eyes and nodded, seeing the ever present smirk and surety displayed in his eyes, behind it was waves of exhaustion and desperation.

He wanted nothing more than for this night to end, just as much as y/n did. They pitied the poor artist.

With a curt nod, they excused themselves to the drink bar, "Old fashioned and a wine."

"Top or bottom shelf?"

They looked over their shoulder as another business man slung his arm over Rafayel's shoulders, laughing boisterously as Rafayel visibly stiffened, his white knuckled fists slipping into his pockets to disguise his annoyance and crafting a smile on his face.

"The one that'll have the highest alcohol percentage." - They snuck a glance at him again, his jaw now visibly tensed, his smile becoming a grimace - "Stat."

°°°°

As the money hungry ladder climbers of the night slowly dispersed to their ubers and chauffeurs alike home, Thomas, Rafayel and themself got to winding down the night. Close friends, family and beneficiaries hung back for group pictures and y/n stuck to the side, nibbling on some fancy hors d'oeuvres.

Rafayel's aunt pulled him in for a selfie, pinching his cheeks as he weakly protested with a groan and y/n couldn't help but giggle when Thomas threw himself into the mix enveloping them both from behind in a hug to join the picture.

There wasn't a sober soul in the venue, that was for damn sure.

Y/n couldn't help the smile creeping onto their face at the pleasant scene of Rafayel - despite his eagerness to leave - visibly loosening up and finally enjoying himself with his people, not the riff raff with obese wallets and closed minds.

Looking up from the empty glass, y/n saw Rafayel's gaze over his shoulder at them.

They raised a brow, wondering why Rafayel was staring at them.

Maybe he was tired and wanted to be escorted home?

They'd get their answer, as Rafayel slipped from Thomas' and his Aunts embrace to stride over and stand against the wall beside Y/n.

"Having fun?" They asked.

"I guess," Rafayel sighed, "Just really fucked."

Y/n could tell, since Rafayel's pleasantries and ability to save face had flown out the window with his language and demeanor.

They dusted their curled finger against his cheek, his dark under eyes starting to show through the concealer he'd applied before the event.

He sighed, his bunched shoulders dropping slightly as he closed his eyes, basking in the gentle and tender touch they gave him, his fists loosened, going slack in his pockets as he revealed in the touch.

"We'll get you back to your home soon," Y/n spoke, retrieving their hand away, pressing their watch as a holographic monitor buzzed to life, "It's nearly one in the morning, Gods...."

They called for a ride to take him back to his place and the other guests were doing the same to head to their own respective abodes.

"Rafayel!" His Aunt called and waved him over and he stiffened, "Come over here, we're taking one last picture."

They leant against the wall as Rafayel began to stride over to meet the group of people. He stopped, turning to them and placed out his hand in offering to join.

"Pass." Y/n held their open palm up in front of him, "I'm not someone who should be in such a picture, I'm just your bodyguard."

He turned fully to speak to them, eyebrows creased and lips pursed, "Nonsense, come."

They shook their head, an apologetic smile on their face, "No, no...you go, I'll keep an eye out for-"

"Quit being stubborn," Rafayel quipped, his tone more rough than usual with his fatigue and waning patience, "I want you in the picture, so you'll be in the picture."

Deciding to skip their words of protest they turned on their heel to go stand outside and wait for the ride. Their plan fell short as Rafayel grabbed their arm, his hold strong enough that they couldn't break free but gentle enough as to not hurt them, "Stay..."

Y/n tilted their head, irritation spiking as they looked over their shoulder with pursed lips and a raised brow. They decided to play on his ego, hoping their bargaining chip would shake the painter off, "Beg then."

A look of shock splashed across his features like paint across a canvas. His lips parted, looking for a comeback but instead he let go of their arm.

Y/n thought they were free, going to turn on their heel until his arm snaked around their shoulders, fingers dusting their slightly exposed collarbone with strands of hair interwoven through his fingertips. He lent down, his face to the side of theirs as his other hand tucked their hair behind their ear, his lips dusting against the shell of their ear as he whispered in a low hum, "Please..."

They felt a jolt through their body, their breath hitched to flee their mouth in a squeak.

Rafayel continued his assault of words against their ear, sending electric currents through their veins to rise as a bright crimson blush on their cheeks. His tone was reminiscent of a whine closing in on whimpering.

"Please, Y/n....Please stay, please don't walk away, stay for me? Please darling, I really want you, I really really need you, please I need you beside me-"

With what energy they could muster between their hitched breathing and trembling limbs they pushed the artist off them and stormed towards the group of people readying themselves for the picture.

"Fine! Gods, Rafayel..." Y/n groaned and stood fixing their hair to the side of the group.

They could feel Rafayel's smug, triumphant smirk burning into the back of their skull and they tried not to bristle with frustration that Rafayel got his way.

As Thomas set the timer everyone huddled in and around the artist. Rafayel pulled Y/n flush by his side, his arm around their waist, fingers gripping into the plush flesh of their clothed hip. He leant down as the timer counted down to whisper once more in their ear.

"Art is meant to be witnessed...Do you really think I wouldn't pose with my favorite art piece?"

Y/n blush and Rafayels smug smile of victory were immortalized within that photograph forever.

Y/n blamed it on the alcohol.

Rafayel always held a knowing smirk as to the real reason.

#love and deepspace #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #love & deepspace #rafayel girlie #lads rafayel #mc love and deepspace #mc x rafayel #one shot #drabble #love and deepspace drabbles #love and deepspace oneshot

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jakowskis · 6 months

Text

torchwood fanfic resources

so i'm a chronic livejournal archaeologist, and fixating on 2000s media is particularly fun for me because it means i get to go digging on lj / dw / old fanfic forums. below you'll find some of the excavations from my torchwood fixation (give it up for month 6!) it's pretty much got every comm i've ever stumbled upon and found useful, or thought others would find useful. it's largely fanfic-oriented, though there's some more generalized comms, too. i hope you guys enjoy!

i was originally going to include a link to my reclist on this post as well, but it's still a wip, so i'll just post that separately in the future.

general disclaimer: most of the content here is from 2006-2013 or so. period-typical attitudes may pop up in places. i'm not sure if most modern tw fans have witnessed the original fandom at all, but i felt a need to say this anyway, because i've seen some icky stuff. i've warned for anything notable. gwen bashing in particular may unfortunately pop up in some of these comms, especially in the comments, so tread carefully.

if you're new to probing through old lj comms, remember to always have the wayback machine on hand, because you're going to run into a lot of purged accounts and seemingly lost fics, but sometimes you get lucky and something's been archived :)

as of the date i'm posting this, all of these comms are still accessible, but if you're from the future and some have been deleted, again, go ahead and give the wayback machine a try. additionally, livejournal has a system that includes 'cross-posting' in which, if authors choose to (and the majority of them do, to get their fics more visibility), fics get posted to multiple comms at once. so chances are, even if one comm gets deleted, the contents will survive through other comms. kind of like how reblogs continue to exist even when the original blog is deleted.

finally, ctrl + f is your best friend if you have a specific ship/character/trope you're invested in, especially in comms with less than ideal tagging systems. if a comm does have a substantial tagging system, you can find all of its tags by adding '/tags' the end of the urls i've provided.

ok... let's begin :-)

assorted livejournal communities

✎ torch-wood: this is essentially a torchwood subreddit. it started before the show even aired, and one of the highlights of it is episode reaction posts (easily accessible on the right side of the lj) that document how everyone immediately reacted to the eps, which is pretty damn cool, fandom-history wise. only thing i should mention is there's quite a lot of gwen and owen bashing in the comments of some of those reaction posts, so just be wary of that if you love those two like i do, 'cuz it's a bit of a bummer.

✎ torchwood-three: this comm is an extremely cool then-daily newsletter (that still updates sometimes?!) that compiled as much fan-content as it could find into cleanly organized lists. the posts made immediately after new episodes aired contain reactions, discussions, meta, theories, new fic, fanmixes, just about everything. very very cool to go back and see the way the fandom was thinking as the show was airing and as they were getting to know the characters. here's a direct link to all posts made in late 2006, during the airing of s1.

✎ torchwood-fic: exactly what it says on the tin. desktop layout is easy to navigate, tags are all there!

✎ torchwood-fic's profile page also features a list of affiliated accounts that's pretty handy. it's worth taking a peek at, in case i've excluded anything in this post that you might be interested in.

✎ twgenrefinders: handy dandy comm where people would ask for fics of a certain variety & be treated with reclists, or hyper-specific fics... pretty cool stuff, ive got several threads bookmarked to sort through the links later. ofc, please note that some of the things people asked for might be stinky. particularly i've seen a lot of ppl requesting gwen bashing fics :/

✎ twstoryfinder: cousin to the above comm; here, people would ask for a very specific fic they'd lost. it's kind of fun to find fics through because you get someone describing memorable scenes + hyping it up, so it's different than just a standard summary. this one still gets posted on, too, which is crazyyy.

✎ tw-unpaired: for gen fics! no romance allowed! there's some good character studies + friendship fics in there. stuff's tagged by character + authors are even tagged, in case you find one whose writing you particularly enjoy. this is v useful for when someone's main journal has been deleted.

✎ torchwood-decaf: a comm where janto is BANNED. nah i'm kidding, it's not anti-janto, it was just made because janto is so huge that it overshadows everything else. pretty smart, tbh; wading through the sheer mass of janto content can be tiresome.

✎ jack-in-cuffs: for dark tw fic, or uber smutty tw fic. as a fan of dark!fic, there's some goodies in here, but of course it's not everyone's cup of tea. most of the writers included warnings, but if you go a little further back, some people weren't as courteous; navigate with caution.

✎ jack-owen: for fic featuring our captain and his (second favorite) doctor. i know this pairing's kinda divisive nowadays, but i enjoy it a lot. the comm's got a dismal tagging system and, ngl, i don't truly like any of the fics there (i'm very intrigued by jack and owen's relationship but i've never found fic that really does them justice, and i still haven't figured out how to write them myself) - but i'll include it anyway.

✎ odetojoi: for fic featuring owen in the middle of a janto sandwich, for those of us who are allergic to women (/sarcasm). there's an oddly impressive supply of fics of the three of them, and a good chunk of them can be found in this comm. (everytime i see this comm i think of a certain abbreviation found in p/rnogr/phy... but i digress)

✎ halfwee-and-tea: for ianto x owen fic. haven't gone through this one much, truthfully. i hate when comms have no tagging systems agh.

✎ owenharper-fans: a comm for the saddest undeadest bisexualest doctor around. also features a few burn appreciation posts, which is nice to see pre-pac rim era. mostly just features a shit ton of owen fic, particularly owen x ianto fic. mostly sufficiently tagged. if you need me once i post this, btw, i will be balls deep in this comm.

✎ the pro-owen alliance: another owen-focused comm - i think this one was made directly in response to owen bashing. haven't combed through this one much but it's got a fair amount of fics.

✎ house-of-cooper: a gwen comm! made in response to gwen bashing. haven't gone through it, but i'm glad it exists.

✎ tw-femficfest: a comm for fic about any and all of the torchwood ladies. tagging's cleanly done & there's some handy fic round ups, too.

✎ tw-classic: a comm for 'all things series one and two of torchwood'. was made after s3 and was popular around s4 out of nostalgia for the golden age <3 good amount of fic, discussions, etc.

✎ torchwood-house: this comm is, like, letterboxd, but for torchwood fanfic. basically a group of individuals who thought of themselves as having Good Taste would read Good Fic and then go in this comm and write a post about why they recommend it. it's well-made, easy to scroll through, and sells the fics v well, and it kinda gets you more excited to read them when you get to see someone hype them up with Fancy Words. it's like a little torchwood yaoi bookclub. we're eating quiche

✎ tw100: a drabble challenge; this thing's full of 100 word drabbles. ngl i hate drabbles but i'm throwing it in here anyway

✎ touchyerwood: i love kink memes... i love kink memes less when my favorite character/pairing is unpopular. the pac rim kink meme's been a blessing bc i'm a basic ass newmann - the torchwood kink meme? not so much. it's got a fair amount of shit, though, so maybe someone else will appreciate it. this one isn't the original, that one's been wiped off the internet, to my chagrin. keep in mind before digging that people in kink memes are horny & gross. that's your warning.

✎ reel-torchwood: for any and all movie aus... ok i have a bone to pick with this comm. i'm a big movie nerd, i love film, i've seen dozens of films i've thought would make good aus - i combed through this and there is not a SINGLE fic in there that piqued my interest. NOTHING. needless to say my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. i'm sure my experiences aren't universal though.

✎ torchwoodslash: ah, remember when we called it slash? gee whiz. i'm not big on this comm, it's not very user friendly + there's like no tags whatsoever so it's extremely hard to navigate. enter at your own risk & good luck, lol.

✎ rounds-of-kink: this isn't a torchwood-exclusive comm, but it's got a sizeable torchwood tag, which can be found here. pretty organized tagging system; makes me happy.

✎ tw-declassified: this comm was mainly used for running a 'torchwood bingo', which, i've been in other fandoms that do episode bingos and it's usually cute... this one confused me a little so i didn't bother peeking around too much, but still a cool little bit of fandom history.

✎ writerinadrawer: this was an annual torchwood writer's challenge that ran for four years... it's kinda hard to navigate but it does have some fic in it so i'm putting it here.

✎ dmarley-recs: a recs journal someone ran for compiling torchwood fic; it's got a l o t of recs on there, largely jack/ianto.

ok and straying from lj briefly for two other places to find fic...

✎ kink_bingo: this is a dreamwidth comm, and it's not torchwood-exclusive, so i've linked straight to the torchwood tag. this comm has a livejournal equivalent, but for some reason the tw tag is pretty barren on that one? not sure why. but on dw it's got a fair amount. the tagging system is rough, it tags fandom and kink but not pairing, which is irritating, and every post is hidden under a cut AND makes you go through a discretion barrier every single time (but probably only if you don't have an account? i'm not logged in) which makes navigation a pain. but i dunno, more smut, if you want it.

✎ whofic.com: this site is for doctor who fic, but it's got a very substantial amount of torchwood fic. i do not, however, like the formatting at all. i'm being overly nice; i HATE the formatting. it's very reminiscent of fanfic dot net but, like, worse. it reminds me of adultfanfiction dot org which was a NIGHTMARE to use. but! there is torchwood fic there so it's going in here.

aaaand there we go! that's all i have. i hope these prove handy! enjoy :D

#torchwood #torchwood posting #mine #txt

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sluggzillaa · 1 year

Note

Can you write an eddie munson x reader where eddie y/n and their friend group go on a little road trip and one night while they're sitting around a camp fire or something y/n tells everyone the legend of skinwalkers and it actually scares eddie but he doesn't show it until later before they go to sleep he's all uneasy and y/n notices and is like "it's OK I'll protect you" and she ends up cuddling him all night

✧ Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

✧ Summary: The gang goes camping after you experience a grueling breakup. You just so happen to meet someone new. What does the future hold for the two of you?

✧ Warnings: use of Y/N, (sfw)teasing, pet/nicknames, mentions of break up, brief mention of su1c1d3(jokingly), kinda awkward, Strangers to friends to lovers, Mentions of a scary creature.

✧ Authors note: This one was pretty rushed since i was taking forever to write it and needed to get it out. I like the awkward fluffiness for now. I hope you enjoy ^^. Also minors, LEAVE OR ILL SHOOT YOU

✧ Word count: 2.7k

Day 1

The phone rang off the hook. Once a cycle of rings ended, a new one started. The phone definitely was not gonna answer itself. Stumbling out of your room; eyes surrounded by dark bags and hair disheveled, you snatched the phone off its receiver.

“Hello?”

“Oh my god finally! I thought you killed yourself”

“Not yet I haven’t.. What do you want, Nance?”

“Look, my friends and I are taking a trip up to the campgrounds by lovers lake”

“uh huh..”

“And I know you’ve been down in the dumps”

“Nance~” You dragged on

“So I was wondering if you’d like to tag along”

Radio silence on your end. You’ve never liked camping, or at least that’s what your ex made you believe. He always told you about these gross stories from his camping trips with his friends. He never let you go along with him. That’s probably because he was in a raggedy motel with some bimbo broads. You let out a sigh and turned your attention back to the call.

“Sure”

“Wait what..”

“Sure, i’ll come”

“Great, i’ll let everyone kn-” Her sentence was cut short by the phone being slammed into its holder

⋆.ೃ࿔*

A car horn signaled you from in front of the house. You dragged your two bags out front. There you were greeted by good hair Steve and Nance. Steve popped open the trunk and took your bags from you. Nancy pulled you into a tight hug, greeting you. You hopped in the van, being met with your favorite fake brother Dustin.

“Hey kid”

“Wassup!”

“So how’s geek camp?”

“Shut up..”

“Hey! It was just a question”

You leaned back in your seat and ripped off the tiny backpack you’ve brought along. You pulled out a pack of gushers and your walkman; preloaded with the best mixtape ever. You rip open the pack of fruit snacks and practically shove all of them in your mouth. The noise from the outside world was shut out by the blasting music on your headphones.

They group drove around the neighborhood for a bit, picking up members. So far it seemed like everyone was here. Suddenly, the van makes a stop in front of a trailer. You slid your headphones down your next and peaked out the window.

“And who lives here?”

Harrington blared the horn twice before shouting out his window. Out of the trailer, stumbled a tall pale metal head with pasty white skin and long dark hair. His curls were all over the place; like he’d just rolled out of bed. He held a duffel bag which had black sabbath written on it in bold purple letters. He hauled the bag into the trunk and made his way to the side of the van. Once he opened the door, he froze. Stood staring at you before looking at Steve. Steve sighed and leaned towards the back of the car.

“Eddie this is y/n, y/n this is Eddie”

“Sup..” You greeted

“Hey” Eddie nodded as he climbed into the van. He took his seat next to you. He greeted everyone then directed his attention to the window.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

Steve parked the van in an empty spot in the small parking lot. Everyone hopped out and stretched. They all made their way inside of the rest stop and dispersed. That left you and Eddie together. You made your way to the snack aisle, he followed close behind like a little puppy.

“So how do you know the group?”

“School.. plus me and Nance have been friends since diapers” You answered

“Then why haven’t I seen you”

He leaned against the shelf of chips, causing a few to fall. He scrambled to pick them up and put them back. He went back to standing against the shelf. You gave him a glare before shuffling through your snack options.

“Maybe because you’re never in class, Munson.. Had to do our history project by myself”

“Shit my bad”

“Yeah, your bad”

He huffed and continued to follow you through the aisles. His attention was grabbed by the brightly colored drink machine. He nodded to himself before turning back to you.

“Make it up to you by buying you a slushie?”

“Deal”

The two of you rounded the corner, making your way to the machine. Eddie grabbed a medium and presented it to you, seemingly asking for permission. You nodded and watched as he looked over the flavors.

“Did you say coke or cherry?”

“I didn’t.. Coke”

He nodded at your choice and filled up the cup, dolloping the frozen liquid to top it off. He placed the lid on and stuck a straw in. He handed you the cup, to which you immediately took a sip. You gazed up at him; looking through your lashes. You pulled away from the cup and walked over to the counter. You placed your snacks and the slush on the counter.

“Snacks on me, slush on him”

⋆.ೃ࿔*

The van finally pulled into the campsite. Everyone piled out and took in their surroundings. Eddie and Steve unpacked the trunk, handing all the supplies to Nancy, Robin, and you. You guys placed it down onto the picnic table and began to set up everything. The boys placed down the bags and set up the 4 tents. The kids quickly claimed their tents; the boys in one, Robin and the girls in another. That left Nancy and Steve together and you and Eddie. You let out a nervous laugh as you notice the pairing.

“I think you guys made a mistake”

“Nope, everyone’s paired just fine” Steve answered

“Yet me and him are sharing a tent”

“Well you guys are the only two left without a tent”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. You paced through your thoughts before you finally came up with a reasonable solution. You grabbed onto Nancy’s hands and pouted at her.

“Let me stay with you and Steve”

“Oh honey, You don’t wanna share a tent with me and Steve” She reassured you

“First of all, Ew.. Second of all, you guys suck”

Nancy patted your back and pushed you off towards the tent. You scoffed and looked back at Eddie in defeat. He shook his head and wrapped his arm around you and led you to the tent. Once you made it there, you immediately dropped your bags and began to set up your mattress. Eddie flopped onto his side and let out a loud groan.

“This is so much more comfortable than the fucking car”

“Yea.. So comfortable” You said sarcastically

“Hey! I’m not that bad, Princess”

“Whatever”

⋆.ೃ࿔

The group sat around the campfire, just catching up. You sat down holding the supplies to make s’mores. You handed them out to everyone around you. The kids excitedly put together their s’mores, as the adults whispered to each other . You guys all whispered agreements to each other before turning to the kids.

“Alright, story time bitches!” Steve announced

They all perched up on their seats, excited for whatever story you’re about to tell. You sat on the edge of your seat, the fire being the only good source of light. A sinister grin painted across your face.

“There was a woman; named Abby, who lived alone in her home. All her former roommates complained about something dark and sinister going on in the house. Abby never knew what they were talking about until one dark summer”

Already, the kids and even the rest of the adults began looking around the area. When they all realized just how dark it was around them, they all huddled together.

“It was bedtime for Abby. She did her nightly routine of brushing her teeth and getting into her pajamas. Finally, she reached her final step; turning off all the lights in the house. As she walked to her bedroom, she shut off every light on her way there. Once she got to the final switch, she sensed something following her. She turned around and found nothing there. So she turned off the light. That’s when she turned off the light and found a figure standing at the end of the hallway. She kept flickering the light.. until.. IT WAS RIGHT IN HER FACE!”

The kids let out small screams and yelps. You felt Eddie jump a little beside you. You turned to him and gave him a confused look, to which he pretended to be fine. You shrugged it off and continued.

“She ran to her room, quickly shutting the door behind her. She kept her bedside lamp on and crawled into bed. Most of her room was dark but she figured her lamp would suffice. She took one last scan around the room before she felt at ease. She closed her eyes but once again, she felt watched. She opened her eyes and took a peak beside her. There she saw a pale woman with white out eyes, a cut out smile, and sharp fangs. The creature pressed the button on the lamp and.. LIGHTS OUT!”

Suddenly, the fire had gone out, leaving the campsite pitch dark. The kids quickly jumped from their seats and rushed into their tents. The adults all laughed and went their separate ways; into their tents. You and Eddie settled down and laid down; backs facing each. It was silent as you both tried to sleep. There was a shuffling coming from Eddie’s side. You turned towards him and found him facing you.

“What?”

“I’m scared”

“It was just a story, Eddie”

“We’ll it must’ve been a really good fucking story cause now i’m scared”

“Okay, what do you want?”

“Can you hold me?”

You rolled your eyes at him and scooted over, closer to him. You opened your arms wide. He moved into you and settled into your embrace. You wrapped your arms around him loosely. You huffed and closed your eyes, kinda enjoying this.

“You need to grow up”

“Fuck off”

⋆.ೃ࿔*

Your tent began to unzip from the outside. In peeked Dustin, not fully comprehending yours and Eddie’s tangled sleeping bodies.

“Good morn- AHHHH”

Dustin quickly rushed out of the tent, leaving your tent slightly unzipped. His screams and the light peeking through woke you up. You sat up quickly and shook Eddie awake.

“Fuck off” He groaned

“Wake up asshole”

You got up and slipped on a pair of your boots. You stepped out of the tent, met with a lot of stares. You shake your head and sit at the picnic table. Nance took the spot next to you.

“So are you and him like a-”

“NO! jeez.. I just met the guy”

“But you were-”

“He was being a total pussy after the campfire.. so he asked me to like cuddle”

She scoffed and got up from her seat, walking over to Steve who was cooking up breakfast. Eddie walked out of the tent in a white tank and some low-hanging pajama pants. You watched his figure as he walked past. He made his way over to the group of boys and began to mess with them; chasing them around. Nancy placed a plate of sausages and pancakes in front of you.

“Don’t get in too deep”

“Don’t plan on it”

⋆.ೃ࿔*

“Goodnight guys!”

Everyone headed into their tents for the night. You headed off into the woods with a pre-rolled joint. Once you’ve headed far enough, you leaned against the tree and lit your joint. You took a pull, inhaling and exhaling. The forest was extremely dark. Only the moon and the cherry of your joint providing a small amount of light. The wind made a sort of creepy whistling noise. Suddenly, a stick snapped. You looked around and were greeted by Eddie. You jumped back in fright.

“Holy shit! What are you doing here?”

“I saw you were rolling a joint, and no one else around here smokes but you and me”

You gave him a glare before passing the joint over to him. He took a pull and blew the smoke into your face. You punched his arm and snatched the joint from him.

“So why didn’t you go to bed?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I asked you first” He nudged you

“Needed to clear my head”

“From?”

You scoffed a took a second to gather your thoughts

“Relationship shit”

“Breakup?”

“Yea..”

“I feel you”

He took the joint from you and took a large pull before carrying on

“So what’s your damage?” He said while holding in the smoke. He exhaled and leaned against the tree next to you. You followed suit, standing rather close to you.

“Cheated with his coworker.. Caught them when i surprised him at work”

“Yeesh” He patted your shoulder

“How ‘bout yours?”

“Y’know Chrissy?”

“You dated that priss?”

He chuckled and took another pull of the joint before passing the last bit of it to you.

“Well, turns out she was only using me to get back with Carver; and when it worked I was left in the dust”

You both sat in silence for a moment, a comfortable silence. Occasionally, you would give each other glances. You tossed down the end of the joint and put it out. You looked over at Eddie for a second before running down a path. Eddie yelled at you and chased behind.

“Where the fuck are you going!” Concern soaking his voice

“Come on!”

“This path is steep, Slow down!”

Eddie continued to chase you down the hill, attempting not to twist an ankle or break a leg. Finally, you both got to the bottom. What stood in front of you was a large lake; in the shape of a heart, hence its name ‘lovers lake’. You walked over to the dock and placed down the items you had in your hands. You turned to Eddie, watching him hunched over; attempting to catch his breath.

“Don’t you ever.. do.. that- jesus fucking christ”

“Let’s go for a swim”

“What?”

He quickly set back up, being met with you stripping down. His eyes latched onto your figure. He didn’t even notice you caught him. You cleared your throat, catching his attention. He quickly turned away from you.

“Dude, it’s the same shit as a bikini.. come on”

He turned back around and watched as you dove straight into that lake. He quickly began to strip down to his boxers then follow after you; into the lake. It wasn’t as cold as either of you would’ve thought, it was actually pretty warm. The two of you floated around for a bit. Suddenly, Eddie was pulled out of his calm state by being splashed with water. He sat up and glared at you. He gave you a menacing smirk before splashing you. This resulted in a full out water war.

“Oh you fucker!”

“It’s pay back sweetheart!”

“Fuck off, Munson!”

You swam out of the lake and got back onto the shore. You sat on the sand and watched as Eddie caught up. He laid down next to you, attempting to catch his breath. He looked over to you and scoffed.

“You’re a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

“You hardly know me”

“Know you enough to know you’re a pain in the ass”

You slid closer and laid beside him. You admired the patterns of stars. You both just sat in a comfortable silence together. The two of you just took a moment, enjoying eachothers company. You both finally felt not so lonely.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

“Hey, can you pass me my shirt?”

Eddie tossed over your shirt and waited for you to finish getting dressed. The sky was beginning to get lighter as the morning approached. The two of you grabbed the rest of your stuff and headed out to the campsite. You found your fingers intertwined with his as he led you up the hill. The two of you finally reached your tent. He tried his best to get the two of you in quietly. He quickly closed the zipper and flopped down onto his mattress. He turned to you and patted the empty spot next to him. You quickly shuffled over to him and laid into his embrace. His arm laid down onto your waist and pulled you in closer. The lack of energy caught up to the two of you, causing you both to drift off.

Taglist🔖 (open)

@mystars123 @chickennug90 @gaysludge @edenfrompluto

#eddie #eddie my beloved #eddiemunson #stranger things #eddie filth #eddie munson #eddie smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #smut #fluff #angst #camping

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obsolescent · 8 months

Text

Southern Charm - Chapter One

Pairing: Ethan Winters x GN!Reader

Summary: You begin working at a new company, meeting the coworker you’ll work with the most. He’s attracted to your southern charm and can’t help the feelings that rise. From the accent to the way you move, it captivates him. How much longer can he stay quiet about the blossoming infatuation he has for you? The person before Mia.

Author's Note: The first chapter of the winning story for my 100 followers celebration! So the first chapter is just setting things up, it takes a long time to get to LA from the south, lol. Not that much excitement going on yet but you do speak to Ethan some. Also, I am starting to add tags to the ends of my writings, so if you would like to be tagged (or removed from the tags) let me know. Enjoy!

Content Warnings: Cultural differences, mentions of anxiety, will update for future chapters.

Cross-Posted to Ao3

Systems Engineering has been described as an integrative field of engineering management that centers around how to design and manage complex systems over their cycles of life. That’s quite the mouthful. Thank the Lord that is not your career field. Your head spins just thinking about your soon-to-be-coworker’s job description. A computer science degree is what you have, filling in the role for their database administrator.

You had seen the job opening and applied, amongst countless others, not thinking much of it. To your surprise, your application was accepted and after the initial screening of the hiring process you were congratulated on being selected for the job. You’re now relocating to California for the position, leaving your hometown in the south for a fresh start across the country. You always joked to your friends that if you went west of the Mississippi River you would be leaving your soul behind.

Crossing into the city limits of Amarillo, Texas, you feel something ebbing away after each mile that’s put between you and your hometown. You try not to think too much about the ache in your bones, already feeling the waning of your resolve. You stop in the city for the night to rest. You wanted to tackle the trip in under a few days, having driven around halfway now, you figure it’s a good stopping point for the night. You find a reasonably priced inn for the night. The place is astonishingly unique, something you hadn’t seen before.

Arriving at your room, you brought in only the essentials: items for showering, skincare, and a change of clothes. You make your way to the bathroom, wanting to wash the day away after being confined to your car for so long. You only stopped to stretch your legs and to grab a bite to eat, but the soothing warmth of the shower beckoned you, soothing some of those pangs in your heart. You towel off and slip on your usual pajamas, sliding into the sheets of the bed.

You dig through your bag you left beside the bed, pulling out and plugging your phone into its charger, setting an early alarm to tackle the remainder of the trip. You ignore the messages from friends and loved ones, opting to open the one from your new coworker. You had been given his information during the onboarding process, having completed the majority of it before arriving at the physical location. Since you’ll be working closely with him, it was wise to get to know him beforehand, also reducing some anxiety you had over it all.

“Hey. Safe travels, looking forward to meeting you in person.

Hope the drive’s been OK.”

You smile at the message, typing your response.

“Thank you, Ethan, I appreciate that.

Reckon the drive hasn’t been too bad so far.

I’m fixin’ to go to bed, but I’m looking forward to meeting you too.”

You do a quick once over on your message before sending, not too worried about your accent showing through your typing. Already feeling at ease with speaking to him like you normally would. Not long afterwards you receive his reply. It’s still pretty early for him, so you’re not surprised he’s awake.

“That’s great, I’m glad.

And you’re welcome.

Goodnight, get plenty of rest.”

He’s been nothing but friendly, something you had been worried about when preparing to move out of the region. Hearing from others experiences outside of the southern United States, it’s a cultural shock at how others can be. Not saying everyone is like that, you’re not one to stereotype, but many aren’t as warm as they are down in the south. You’ll definitely have to do some adapting once arriving.

You tell him goodnight as well, before setting your phone to ‘Do Not Disturb,’ laying it down on the nightstand. You reach over and flick the switch to the lamp, cutting out the lights. Settling into the covers, you soon drift off, the sounds of the air conditioning lulling you to sleep.

The alarm pierces through your turbulent dreams, a distorted chaos of faces and scenery from your hometown, swirling into a tornado of unease and remorse. Jolted awake by the blare, you reach for and toggle the button on the side of your phone to snooze the sound for another ten minutes. Sinking into the sheets again, you blink the sleep away, and when that doesn’t work, you rub your eyes until your vision spots.

Staring at the ceiling, you take deep breaths to steady the beat of your heart, swallowing down the anxiety that threatens to spill out. Removing the sheets from your body, you get out of bed and prepare for the next half of the trip. Pulling on the clothes you had brought in the night before, you gather your belongings and head to the lobby to check out.

You head out to the parking lot and pack your luggage into your car, settling into the driver’s seat. ‘6 AM, doing good on time. Could be in Claremont by 9 PM.’ You had picked a place to rent outside of LA, knowing it would be cheaper and less hectic. Though, even the prices for a two bedroom, one bath apartment in Claremont, almost an hour away from the bustle of the large city, had your eyes almost popping out of your head. Fortunately for you, your salary increase at this new job would be more than enough to pay for rent while having excess left.

Disregarding the additional messages you’ve received from others, you text your coworker to update him on your current status and the estimated time you’ll arrive in the city, before leaving the hotel’s grounds and continuing on, toward your new beginning and hopefully brighter days.

Tags: @caramlizedtomatoes, @dwkfan, @emilzke, @neondogs, @roseglazedlens, @xxacademy

#o fics #ethan winters x gn!reader #ethan winters x reader #ethan winters x you #ethan winters fic #resident evil #ethan winters fluff

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 1 year

Text

Narcos Victorian London AU: Chapter 2 Forsaken.

Summary: You figure out your next steps as you come to terms with your new life.

Author’s Notes: I hope you enjoyed this, definitely my favourite fic I’m writing right now (DBF! Joel a close second) Warnings: Fantasy Violence, mentions of death of a parent, toxic family, anger/violence/rage against Reader No 18+ content here but all my blogs and fics contain it so MDI. Let me know if you want to join my tag list, and if you have any requests for drabbles/short fics etc.

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Chapter 2 – Forsaken.

The staccato rhythm of warring voices stirs you from your sleep. You had fallen asleep on top of the covers again, too hot to bear any cover. You recognise Javier’s, Connie’s, and Steve’s voices through the thin walls of the London flat. You smooth out the creases in your clothes before taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. The scarring and burns were already fading but you could still feel the searing, piercing touch of Ezekiel on your skin. You quietly open the bedroom door and tip-toe down the hall.

“She needs to go before The Guild, it’s the only way.” You hear Javi’s hushed voice from the dining room as you listen in from just outside the door.

“They’ll brand her as Forsaken, she’ll be a pariah.” Connie retorts, the fear in her voice makes your heart ache. It had been a long time since someone had cared enough to worry for you.

“The alternative is that another Guild member will murder her on sight,” Javi barks but before Connie could answer he speaks again, “Come out, I can hear your heartbeat from here, you might as well have a say in all of this.” Javi calls out to you in the hallway and you wince, ashamed to have been caught snooping.

“So, The Guild?” You ask nervously as you step into the room, fiddling with the sleeves of your shirt as you try to avoid Javi’s piercing gaze. Everyone was sat at the table, you take the seat next to Javi who continues to stare you down.

“The London branch of the Hunter’s Guild is the second oldest of its kind,” Steve says as he learns forward, his forearms braced against the table as he folds his hands in front of him, “Javi, Connie, and I are all members, Javi and Connie because they have to be, and me because of the family business.”

“Have to be?” You repeat looking between Connie and Javi with cautious eyes.

“Because we’re Blaidd and don’t want to get staked, or burned at the stake for being so.” Javier says without emotion and Connie just nods solemnly.

“And since I’m now,” You gesture at your self with both hands, “Whatever this is, I’m a Blaidd? And that means I need to go on a register?” You work through it slowly, not liking the idea already.

“Exactly,” Steve continues, “But there are a few problems, your case is far from normal, and you need to provide an address, and it can’t be ours because I live here.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose as he speaks.

“So that leaves living with the Guild, which I do not recommend.” Javi grumbles.

“Or living with Javier.” Connie says softly but your stomach lurches at the notion, you couldn’t live with a man, let alone one as dangerous as Javi.

“I’m not a fan of it either princess, but it’s that or risk becoming a lab rat for The Guild.” Javi grumbles, the animosity with the Guild seemed personal but you didn’t press it for now.

“Ok, then living with Javi it is.” You sigh but the growl from Javi’s lips draws your attention.

“Javier, you don’t get to call me Javi.” He hisses and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Javi, don’t be an asshole.” Steve scolds him but Javier just scoffs.

“Whatever, come on we might as well show you your new home before we drag you into the political hell scape of The Guild,” He says to you, his brow furrowed as he turns to Connie, “You still got that Hellgate in the basement here?”

“You bet, just don’t tell The Guild.” Connie winks at him and he finally cracks a small, involuntary smile. The way his cheek dimples sends a flutter of electricity through your veins.

“What’s wrong with the Hellgate?” You ask quietly, feeling vulnerable as you tried to avert your gaze from the handsome vampire’s face.

“There are official Hellgate channels, all monitored and regulated by The Guild, to have one outside of that network is a crime punishable by death.” Connie explains as she steers you out into the hallway, Steve and Javier follow you both as you descend the stairs into the basement of the building. The cool air hits you and you breathe it in, the sensation is numbing, comforting as your skin met the chill of the cellar.

“Then why have one at all?” You ask sheepishly as a knot of worry forms in your breast, you had never liked getting into trouble, your father had been a mean bastard with a belt, but these were much higher stakes.

“Because I don’t like The Guild watching all of my movements, besides, this one is firmly two-way, between this place and mine.” Javier says with a shrug before turning to Connie.

“Can you bring her some clothes? Put it on my account.” Javier addresses the older woman and she nods.

“Any preference sweet?” Connie asks you and you nod.

“Trousers, blouses, waistcoats, bowler hats and dress shoes, as few dresses as you can.” You say with a grimace, knowing it was a lot to ask but you hated dresses before your wedding, but now the thought of being trapped in a corset once more was horrifying.

“I know just the elf to go to.” Connie nods and you hear Javier groan.

“I know I said put it on my account but Corvus? Really Connie?”

“I’m not just buying her men’s clothes that will fit her like a sack of potatoes, poor love’s gone through enough as it is.” Connie snaps back and you see the flicker of amusement behind Javi’s eyes before he responds.

“Fine, but only because it’s you.” His tone is soft and your heart clenches at the low baritone of his voice. It was the first time since you met him that he had sounded anything but aggressive and it made you want him to talk to you like that.

Connie stops you at the far end of the large room before muttering something under her breath, violet and sapphire flames came to life in wrought iron braziers that lined the walls. Between them were various runes and sigils painted on the walls in a deep, rich red that made you think it was probably blood. The dark cobbles of the floor glisten with an otherworldly light as you look to the stone archway in front of you.

“You two ready? I can’t hold it open long or it’ll show up on the Guild’s Spell Webs.” Connie says, adopting a stance you would have guessed was some kind of martial arts form, but the soft violet mist that begins to roll off her fingertips tells you otherwise.

“I’m going to have to carry you, hold on tight.” Javier commands as he hoists you up into a his arms, he hooks your knees over one arm and the other loops around your shoulders. The soft fabric of his waistcoat presses against your right cheek and it soothes you a little as the butterflies in your stomach began a frantic dance as anxiety chased them to your throat. You could smell the oil, lavender and blood on his clothes, the strange combination intoxicating as you try and keep your head.

“Aderyn coch, Neidr las, Carw gwyn.” Connie chants slowly as the mist that swirls from her fingertips turns blinding white. The smell of tin, juniper, and burning coal fill the small space as Steve steps back meekly. The stone archway ignites in a furious display of colours. Every colour you could ever imagine and more flashed before you in a beautiful inferno of magical essence. It was blinding, beautiful, yet it instilled a primal, base fear in your mind as you cringe into Javier’s cold embrace.

“It’s opening, go!” Connie yells and you feel Javier lurch forward.

The swirling vortex of iridescent flames engulfs you as you breach the Hellgate. You anticipate a burn, a searing heat, but the feeling that washes over you is sublime. You feel at peace in a way you had never known as the rich colour of magic seeps into your pores, penetrating deep into your soul. You drink it in like a sweet wine as you nuzzle against the firm, marble-cold chest of the vampire that acted as your chariot.

The darkness is a snuff on your magically induced euphoria as you take in the cellar. Your eyes adjusting unnaturally fast, the vibrancy of the night disorientating as you pick out the storage crates, furniture covered in sheets, and the sconces that lined the basement mirroring that in the Murphy’s cellar.

“You ok there princess?” Javier’s voice is close in your ear, he’s still holding you tight and you feel heat rise to the tips of your ears as you feel the tension rolling off him. You look up to meet his gaze and you gasp at his parted lips, fangs glistening as he devours you with his dark, hungry eyes.

“Fine,” You squeak, “Better than fine, that was intense.” You continue, reliving the rush in your mind as the Hellgate warped around you.

“Yeah they effect everyone differently,” Javier grumbles as you see the mask slide back into place, his lips form a firm line and his dark brow furrows as he sets you down, breaking eye contact as he strides towards the ladder at the far end of the room, “Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

You jog to catch up as Javier opens the trapdoor from below, bright light spills through the opening and you squint, your eyes sting but you blink through the pain as they adjust. Javier offers you his hand as you reach the top of the ladder, the cool touch sends icy prickles through your skin as you take it. He releases it as soon as your feet are firm on the ground. His face expressionless as he moves past you to shut the trapdoor before kicking the rug back over it to conceal it. If you weren’t so buzzed from the journey through the Hellgate you would have taken the indifference to heart.

Instead you look around the large kitchen in awe. The pristine red marble countertops arced with coppery veins played off the mahogany cabinet doors with gold fittings. The large window over the sink looked out onto a busy London street. You could see a private residents garden outside and whistle low as you look up at the stony-faced vampire.

“You’re high society then eh?” You raise an eyebrow at Javier and he cracks a smile, it was the smallest twitch of his full lips but you took the win.

“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you tend to find yourself in situations where fortunes get made, and lost.”

“I bet, how old are you?” You pause as you realise you spoke without thinking, “Was that rude?” You ask as you wince when Javier’s gaze rests on your face with a flicker of amusement running behind his amber eyes.

“It’s not, but let’s just say I may have been Bonnie Prince Charlie’s fencing instructor, and good friends with his father.” Your mouth opens wide as he winks at you.

“That’s insane you knew King James?” You breathe as you realise he is over a hundred years old maybe even two he simply nods and you exhale through your nose in awe, “We should fence sometime.” You finish, wanting to boast a little as you had always enjoyed the thrill of a fencing match.

“Do you even know how?” He challenges you as he crosses his arms over his chest, he leans back against the counter top and you roll your eyes.

“You know the answer to that, you clearly know my family, you seem to know more about me than is normal for someone I have never met personally.” You say with accusation clear in your tone.

“This is true, I also know you’re incredibly well read, stubborn, an excellent marksman, a proficient rider, but you have issues with authority and religion, cannot sew, ran out on a very viable suitor…” Javier trails off as the initial burst of pride turned sour in your stomach like old milk, “Oh and you swear far too much for a lady of your standing.” He finishes with a devilish smile on his face as he watches you squirm in embarrassment. You finger the opal ring on your finger behind your back as you seethe.

“I can sew,” You mumble, trying to restore a shred of dignity even if your voice was meek and cowed, “I just can’t embroider, I can patch up clothes, and people.” You shoot Javier a stern look that only makes him laugh. The cold, barking sound send shivers down your spine in equal measures of anger and attraction.

“I’ll remember that,” He nods approvingly, “Sallie!” He calls out over his shoulder and you are about to ask who Sallie is when she appears before you as if emerging from a mirage. She seemed to seep into the space between you and Javier like a mist. She wore a long black dress with sheer sleeves.

“What’s up boss?” Her soft, sultry voice lilts through the air as you take in the mauve skin, glossy black hair, and shapely form of the creature before you. Her back is to you and you shudder, something about Sallie unnerved you like an instinctual reaction to a predator in the room. It wasn’t what she looked like but more what she felt like.

“Go draw up a bath for our guest and prepare a room for her.” Javier’s voice is soft, doting as he talks to the woman in front of you and you can’t help but feel a little jealous.

He has so many masks, so many faces.

You think to yourself as Sallie turns in surprise. Her inky black eyes with amber cat-like pupils were framed with thick lashes, her purple, pillow-plush lips curved down into a frown as she looked you over.

“Javi sweetheart what is she?” She asks, her voice trembled, curiosity spliced with fear coloured her tone. You were shocked that such as formidable woman would have even a shred of fear when regarding you.

“She’s Blaidd.” Javi answers coldly as he bristles at her tone. Clearly he hadn’t expected pushback from her.

“I can smell that pendejo,” She growls as she takes a step towards you, the hairs on your neck stand up and you feel the quiet burn of the hot poker in the back of your mind, “What is she?” She repeats and you ball your fists at your side. Danger rolled off Sallie like smoke, you feel your throat tightening as the invisible aura engulfs you.

“She’s a Forsaken, Sallie.” Javi’s voice is strained, his knuckles gripping the counter behind him, “Ezekiel almost killed her, Murphy stopped him but you know how it goes when daemons get smoked.” Sallie jumps back as if electrocuted at Javi’s words and she spins to face him.

“You brought a Forsaken into my home-!” Sallie starts but Javier interrupts her.

“My home.” Javier growls as she prods him in the chest aggressively.

“And one that has Ezekiel inside it?” Sallie’s hair is shimmering like smoke as her temper builds and you watch as Javier’s face grows darker. Your heart feels like it is being crushed in a vice when you hear Sallie dehumanise you. The poker burns brighter again, you’re so tempted to touch it, something in the back of your mind told you it would make you feel better.

“She’s not an it, she has a name,” Javier says your name quietly which pulls you way from the heat and you look up at him in surprise. The menace in his voice is enough to make Sallie step back a little, “And she’s under my protection, I am responsible for her.”

“Fine, have it your way, as always,” Sallie hisses as she turns back to you, fury plain on her hauntingly beautiful face, “Make your own damned bed, run your own bath you mongrel.” She spits on the flagstone floor in front of you before disappearing in the same hazy mirage she appeared in. You feel the burning at the back of your mind wane as you meet Javier’s stunned look with your own bewilderment. There’s a tense pause as the only sound in your ears is the roaring of your blood.

“She seems nice.” You eventually eek out and Javier runs his right hand through his hair as he pushes himself off the counter with the other. You’re fiddling with the ring again as you try not to cry. The hatred in Sallie’s eyes pierced you like a blade to the gut.

“I’m sorry I thought she of all people would have understood.” Javier says with a hefty sigh.

“I don’t know what to say,” You say softly with a shrug, “I can get myself settled, just show me where.”

“You sure?” Javier asks and you nod immediately.

“No matter who it is you know in my family, they’re wrong about me, I am capable of looking after myself.” You grumble and a sad look passes over Javier’s face but he says nothing as he leads you through the kitchen into the hall. The gilded picture rails, deep red wallpaper patterned with white and gold flowers, and the marble floors took your breath away. You follow silently up the large staircase to the second floor.

You marvel at the U shaped mezzanine that overlooks a large, currently empty ballroom. A portrait of Javier stares you down from the far wall, he is dressed in half armour, with a helmet you vaguely remember is called a Spanish Morion placed on the table to the right.

“Ah yes, that was a gift from my friend Dorian,” Javier coughs to hide his discomfort but you catch the look on his face before he replaces it with his mask of indifference, “It’s a bit of an inside joke.”

“So you weren’t a Conquistador?” You pry, liking the bashful side of the vampire.

“Gods above no, but I did come to Europe on one of the many ships that came shortly after them.” He says with a shrug as he holds an arm out to the right, encouraging you to move along.

“That must have been hard.” You say softly as you mull it over, you know all about how the Spanish and Portuguese made their mark in the Americas, and how imperialism, no matter the nation, took its toll.

“It’s been such a long time I barely remember.” He says without emotion as he opens the door at the far right side of the mezzanine for you.

“You’re a terrible liar,” You say as you note the tension in his shoulders as he walks, “But I get it, some things don’t bear reliving.” Javier simply hums in response as you pass him across the thread hold to your new home. You gasp as you take in the large room, a four poster bed in cream and gold sits between two floor to ceiling windows, the soft light of the evening filtering through blissfully. There’s a large wardrobe to your right, a beautifully decadent vanity to the left, and the soft creams and white of the carpet are overwhelming.

“This is unreal.” You whisper, feeling like you had been dropped right into a fairytale. You step forward and look around the room, clocking the door next to the vanity that must lead to a bathroom.

“I don’t really care for all this, I’d much rather live somewhere quiet, peaceful, cosy, but I have to put on a show for the Blaidd and for the Wyna.” Javier says softly as he shuts the door behind you. You turn to face him, your nerves on fire as you feel the fight or flight instinct kick in.

“So what lofty obligations do you have to need such decadence?” You ask, trying to keep your voice even as you see the way he’s looking at you. His eyes are burning a golden amber as he stares you down.

He’s hungry.

You realise as he steps towards you, crowding your space as he tentatively places his right hand on your cheek. You gasp audibly as the cool touch burns pleasantly against your skin and you see his lips part at the sound. He takes your lack of resistance as an invitation to continue, his left hand falling to your waist.

“I’m a rebellious philanthropist in Wyna high society that gives money to those deemed most undesirable,” He says as his cool thumb brushes along your cheekbone, “And I’m Secretary of Wyna relations in the High Vampire Council, both thankless jobs and I despise them both, I much prefer hunting down deviant Blaidd.”

“So why don’t you do that full time?” You ask breathlessly as you mirror him, your right hand touching his face gingerly as your left falls to his sternum. He moans softly at the contact, the heat of your flesh clearly had an equivalent effect to the cool relief of his on yours.

“Because I don’t want to let things to fester and stagnate in the world, I want to make a difference, for Blaidd and Wyna alike.” He whispers as he presses his lips to your palm. You close your eyes as the burning heat in your chest heads southwards to your core.

“Bleeding heart.” You breathe as you squirm at the soft tone of his voice, the lavender, lamp oil, and coppery scent of him.

“Very funny,” He chuckles, “I should go.” He breathes and your eyes snap open at the notion. You see the hunger, the desire, the vulnerability in him as you fight the urge to kiss him, to pull him down to your neck so he can feed. There’s a brutally inhuman need inside you that somehow knows what he needs, what he wants, and you want, no, you need to fulfil them.

“Why?” The question falls from your lips before you can think, the heady rush of Javier’s hunger burning deep.

“Because this would be a mistake, and one I would regret for an eternity.” He says as he steps out of your embrace. You stop yourself from chasing him, the sting of rejection needling you like a thousand insect bites as you step back. The look of relief on Javier’s face only stings further.

“Goodnight Javier.” Your voice trembles and you know he picked up on it, but you didn’t care you just want him gone, you want to be alone with your feelings, whatever they were. Javier heads to the door and pauses with his hand on the doorknob.

“Goodnight, oh and the family member I knew?” He says as the mechanism clicks loudly under his grip, “It was your mother.”

The knowledge is like a lance to your throat, you feel like you can’t breathe, like the void between worlds has swallowed you up smothering you in a chokehold of nostalgia laced poison. The door clicks behind Javier and you fall to your knees, the hollow thud muffled by the thick carpet. You tears don’t come, but the gaping hole in your chest feels like you should be. But something holds you back, pride, stubbornness? Whatever it was, you wouldn’t stand to shed a tear over a man, no matter how raw and frayed you feel.

You pick yourself up and force yourself into the adjoining bathroom, you’re surprised by the fact that there was clearly running water in the house. Then you thought about how much money Javi has and roll your eyes.

“Of course there’s plumbing, why wouldn’t there be plumbing?” You grumble bitterly to yourself as you think about the strides for sanitation in the last ten years, the Cholera outbreak thirty years ago really forced the issue and rich households like Javi’s had clearly jumped on the trend. The large porcelain tub filled slowly and you undress before leaning against the cool edge, the vanity and mirror before you had never been used. It was spotless but there were no signs of wear, no notches in the light wood finish, no stains across the flat panelling. You realise that much of the house was like this, perfect, pristine, but false.

The steam rose behind you from the tub and irritation washes over your skin at the humidity. You frown and turn off the hot faucet before switching to cold. The biting air that swirled around the heavy flow was soothing and you feel the tension in your shoulders ease a little.

“Guess I’m going to have to get used to this new penchant for the cold.” You say to yourself, the cascading splash of water nowhere near loud enough to drown out the furious noise that clouded your mind. Too many thoughts, too many emotions, the constant drone of something else in the back of your mind. The hot poker that burned at the edges of your consciousness always there, always emitting, never quiet.

The sound of a piano playing faintly somewhere in the house makes you smile sardonically, of course Javi was musical, or maybe was it Sallie? The lilting melody permeated the house and slowly you recognise it as Chopin, the melancholy of a piece you loved. You ease into the icy waters and feel a smothering at your senses, the sharp heat, blunt anger, all abating as your body cooled rapidly.

As you scrubbed your body with soap, you feel normal for the first time in two days, something about rhythmically performing a mundane action allowed you to ground yourself. The soap was heady with bergamot and jasmine and you found yourself liking the way it smelled on your skin as you got out of the tub, draining it before wrapping yourself in a silk bathrobe, you were already drying off, your body temperature rising remarkably fast.

Then you hear it, Berceuse in D-flat Major, Op. 57. You know it so well, you could still see your mother’s graceful fingertips playing along to the music you were enthralled by. Every key stroke imprinted in your mind.

It was her favourite.

You think as you find yourself padding out onto the mezzanine balcony, Javier was there in a dark red smoking jacket, black brocade adorning the fabric. His head is down, lost in the rapture of an artist’s passion. The light, joyful notes a stark contrast to the Nocturne, the happiness laced into your very being at the sound of the melody brings tears to your eyes.

“I miss you Mam.” You whisper to yourself, the Welsh word falling from your lips instinctively. It was the one thing you shared with her that your father could never take away, no matter how hard he tried. But since her death you had no-one to speak your mother-tongue with. Your father had never learned, calling it plebeian, and he forbade it’s use even when she was alive. But you always disobeyed him, together. It has been a long, lonely five years, and you found yourself grieving all over again.

A bitter sob escapes your lips and the music halts abruptly as Javier’s luminous yellow eyes snap to meet your watery gaze.

“Siân, I’m sorry.” The words tumble from his mouth as you feel your fingers go numb. You back away from the railings slowly, once you were free of his piercing gaze you ran back to your room and slammed the door. You pulled a heat of drawers across the threshold with inhuman ease which, if you weren’t already reeling would have made you feel sick but you didn’t have the capacity right now.

Siân, not my name, but hers.

You think to yourself as you weep, slumped on the floor in front of your makeshift barricade. You didn’t cry for Javier, not for or because of him, but because the grief you had never been allowed to express had been unlocked like a cellar door leading to unfathomable darkness. But the darkness was comforting, it was right, you were finally able to mourn the loss of the one person in the world you loved more than anything.

A soft knock on the door roused you from your uncontrolled, wrenching cries. Javi calls your name through the door, not Siân, not your mother’s name but yours. You feel the icy fingertips clenching around your heart as you hate how it makes you feel.

“Leave me alone Javier.” You choke out and you feel his remorse, you don’t know how but it’s like a dark cloud of purple fog, hovering beyond the door.

“As you wish chica, but I want to let you know I’m sorry.” His voice is streaked with grief, anger, pain. The cloud dissipates and you feel his presence leave your door. You cry less violently as you lie down on the plush carpet, you had no energy left to move now. Sleep consumes you like an open maw and you know that you would be sore in the morning but you just didn’t care. Your body needed to rest.

Your mind however, would not be so kind.

Authors Notes: Let me know what you think! I hope you’re enjoying this as I’m having a blast! C&C, reblogs, likes, kudos, etc. are so appreciated!

Tags: @yvonneeeee @pandamonium615 [I think that's all lmk if you don't want to be tagged or want to be added to the list!

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña smut #Narcos #Narcos fanfiction #fluff and smut #fluff #angst #narcos fic #Javi x reader #Javi x f!reader #Javi x female reader #Javi x afab reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #AU #Victorian England #Supernatural themes #slow burn

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crazypossumman · 7 months

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So I am writing a novel loosely inspired by Dante’s Inferno. I’ve been working on it since eighth grade when I first read Inferno and became utterly obsessed. Anyway, I was very fucked up the other night and then found this in my notes:

“Why My Atheist Ass Loves Dante’s Inferno:

My first point to this argument would be the fact that it is basically self insert fanfiction. My boy Dante really went, “but what if me and Virgil, my favorite poet uwu, had to travel through hell together on a long, sentimental journey in which I am able to learn from him as a pupil does from his master,” and everyone was like, “ok yeah let’s here him out.”

On a more serious note, this text (looking at it individually within the divine comedy) has such a powerful meaning behind it. Dante is traveling through the dark forest (life) and is trying to get to the top of a hill (enlightenment, paradise, nirvana, what have you), but he is stopped by three beasts (the three types of sin). But his end game is still to get to paradise and be with his beloved or whatever. So he still wants to go to the top of that metaphorical hill.

Ipso facto, when Virgil leads him through hell, he is leading him THROUGH the beasts. It’s not some round about way where he skirts these sins. He goes through sin after sin in Virgil’s company, and in beholding the punishments for said sins—which, being an ironic twist on the sin itself, reveal just how ugly the sin itself is—being enacted upon figures he associates with the sin, he is essentially traveling through life while learning from the mistakes of others. That’s as simple as the story is!

But instead it is taken and written in to prose, woven between Christianity and Greek mythos, stretched into a fascinating adventure that captivates and shocks the mind. It was heavily associated with political and religious figures of the time period, which caused it to stick in the minds of its readers (think: if you read that Pope whoever was seen burning in the whatever circle of hell, every time you hear about that pope from then on out, you’re like “oh yeah isn’t that the guy who—“). It integrates well known biblical figures, which created that same association but with something ancient and sacred. Not to mention that, being one of the few religious texts written in the common tongue in its time, it became super wide spread (I mean, their reading selection was limited).

And my third reason would have to do with the amount of classical art and literature it went on to expire. It’s a lot. There’s a painting or two for every critical scene of the inferno, and it is a widely referenced piece of literature in media day-to-day life (think phrases like “stuck in limbo” or “abandon all hope, ye who enter here”). There are also so many translations of the Inferno, originally written in Italian, and most of them contain footnotes, translation notes, interpretations, references, and research tidbits relating to that author’s specific translation. Meaning. Every time you get a different translation. There is whole knew stuff to learn. Base points are always the same, but I love a good fun fact or someone’s individual analysis on a certain piece of symbolism.

Point four: It’s so much extra Christianity-lore. Like sure it’s a headcannon but it reads like official content.”

Writing Tag ↓ | Pinned | Writing Masterlist | Kofi | Etsy

#roan writes #roan rambles #dante's inferno #the divine comedy #dante alighieri #divine comedy #inferno #random #hyperfixation #excuse my infodumb

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blurrycow · 2 years

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Life Is Too Short To Last Long

Synopsis: Five Hargreeves is on a self-destructive rampage, and Viktor needs to stop it before it gets worse.

Word count: 2931

Trigger warnings: mentions of death, death, suicide, blood, cursing. Like Five buddy are you ok

Author’s notes: HERE IS THE REPOSTED VERSION OF THE FIC WHERE I KILL FIVE!!! PLUS CHAPTER TWO!!! ahaha so I did try to get this over 2k and!! It worked!! So that’s why it’s got so many run on sentences and lengthy descriptions, sob. Anyway I hope you likey because this is my pride and joy and like the first actual REAL fic I’ve ever finished (and I may make a third part, so stay tuned!) Also, Five is super ooc in the second part, but that is because he is dead. So. Tags: @conchshell, @stupidcanofpeaches, @assaily, @burnmyself, @sharkneto, @hargreef, @rllybritrlly (idk if you read fanfic brit but i like torturing people so…. youre on the taglist now lol)

Hi, sorry for the tag guys! But I DID end up finishing this and I think it’s pretty good if I do say so myself muahaha

“Come on, Five,” Viktor pleads, but Five only presses his hand closer to his chest. Viktor can feel all of his ribs through his shirt. Five is so skinny. How did he not see it before? Who knows how long it’s been since he ate? Since he sat down and took a break? How long has it been since he’s gotten a shower or relaxed?

“Just do it,” His brother begs, holding his hand like a lifeline against his heart, and Viktor stops short. Five never begs. He’s aloof. He’s prideful. He’s cold. But above all, he does not beg.

Viktor swallows and shakes his head. “I can’t.” He’s not lying. The cold pierces through the night like a sharp knife, gleaming and hard, the type of cut that you don’t notice until you’re bleeding out on the floor.

Viktor is the one metaphorically bleeding out on the floor.

Five’s eyes grow hard and cold, the greenish blue laced with anger and pain. Viktor is startled by their intensity. “Just do it,” he repeats, and his voice is shaking slightly, warm breath releasing in pale grey puffs into the light of the streetlamp and the dark road. A place for a nighttime stroll or midnight donut run. Not a place for a killing. Not a place for a suicide.

Viktor feels the tears coming, but he swallows down the lump in his throat. “I don’t know why.” Maybe he can prolong this. Maybe if he makes Five explain, he can talk him down.

Five shuts his eyes, lashes fluttering on pale cheeks. Viktor can feel his heartbeat, pounding shakily but holding steady. “Because the Commission implanted a disease in my brain.”

“And what does this disease do?” Viktor grills desperately, hoping with all of his will that his siblings are coming soon. If anyone can help Five it would be Allison’s rumors or Luther’s strength, or Diego’s knives and Klaus’s wit. They would all be so much better in this situation.

“It makes me want to destroy you,” Five says, opening his eyes again, and they are very shiny, like an ocean in the sunlight. “It makes me want to kill you all and myself, so I’d rather you get it over with before I have to kill all of you.”

The night is quiet. A gust of wind chills Viktor to the bone. He’s never felt this cold in his life. “You’re my brother. I can’t hurt you.”

Five lets go of Viktor’s hand, suddenly feral, savage, a wild boy turned rabid. He grows teeth, snaps, snarls. “You have to, Viktor! If you don’t kill me, I’ll kill you! It’s a kill or be killed world, and the only thing to do is kill me, because you can’t die, not when I’ve been working my whole damn life to keep you alive!”

Viktor is silent. Guilt chews its toxic way through his stomach, eating out his organs, leaving him desiccated and immobilized on the floor.

“You did it once. You can do it again.”

That’s what does it. That’s what fells the final blow. Viktor remembers the agony, the anger, the lash, the worry.

He’d killed his family. Five’s time spent in the apocalypse was his fault.

Viktor has to put him out of his misery, no matter how much he wants to hold on.

He stares at this boy, this boy that is not the same as he remembers, and Five is spitting and maniacal, shouting something about how Viktor needs to kill him, to just channel his power and blow his brains out, but Viktor has stopped listening.

There’s really no other choice but to kill Five, then. To kill the only brother he’s ever really loved.

How sad is that? How tragic must the Hargreeves be to be put into situation after situation, and now their backbone is offing himself at Viktor’s hand?

But time stops for no one, not even the Master of Time, and Five is already foaming at the mouth, hungry and ready for blood, and Viktor has to choose: does he want to die or does he want Five to live?

Five slams Viktor’s hand against his chest again, weakly, like he’s running out of steam. “I told you why. Now do it quick.” His eyes are bloodshot and pained, and glistening with something that looks like tears. But it can’t be tears. Five Hargreeves never cries. Crying is too weak. Crying is too human.

And Five Hargreeves isn’t human. He’s a cold, unfeeling killer. This is what the world has shaped him to be.

Viktor is teetering on the edge of humanity, ready to fall.

“You goddamn coward,” Five whispers, sensing the change in the atmosphere, and Viktor goes over the edge, toppling into the dark pit of oblivion, past his soundproof chamber and critical whispers and into the shadows where it is dark and cold and black, and there he sees a boy, standing alone.

The boy is holding a leash empty of pets, and his hair is dark and unruly and falling in a curtain over his face. He is thin and short, with icy blue eyes far too intelligent for his face, and he is wearing a blue uniform piped with red. The boy opens his mouth, and blood spills out over his teeth, staining them red, dripping down his chin in lazy rivers that spiral in scarlet kaleidoscopes. The leash drops from his hand as he collapses, and Viktor hears his own voice within the boy’s tortured scream- KILL ME.

He flies back to the present where things are overwhelmingly hot and Five is back in front of him and the streetlights gleam pale fluorescents and the wind whistles like a cheery barber and Viktor is filled with a strong and sudden conviction that this is what he is supposed to do.

He’s gotta be a good brother, right?

He nods, looks at his brother. Five nods back, mouth in a tightly pained grimace. They both know what comes next, and although later the guilt will come, the overwhelming loneliness and hurt and shame, for now Viktor can only see the fact of what is happening right now and what will come.

His plan will be put into action, and Five might never forgive him, but he can’t just let him go.

Viktor unleashes his power in a burst of blue white, and the world is bathed in pale light.

***

He lands on the ground hard, feet unsteady by the force of the blow.

The ground is unseeable, and Viktor can’t see his ankles or feet, because they are wreathed in black smoky sludge.

For some reason, this does not bother him. It does not worry him that he cannot see his feet. Usually it would, he thinks, and then laughs at himself. Why is he thinking about his feet?

He looks up. He’s alone on an empty street, the smoky black sludge coursing down the decline but not pulling him along with the current. It is dark, not the dark that smothers the night, but the dark that wraps you in a comforting blanket. There are no stars, only an endless path of evenly spaced street lamps on either side of the road he is standing in. It’s quiet. Viktor takes a breath.

He does not note the sudden change in temperature, or the way the trees droop like abandoned dogs. It does not bother him.

Or, at least, he thinks it doesn’t.

The world feels very simplistic, a mirage of black and white. It’s beautiful. The sludge keeps its course down the pavement, and the black sky keeps on twinkling. The glaring white lights from the streetlamps only add to the atmosphere.

A sudden ringing of a bell, a chime. Viktor turns his face heavenward. It is the first sound he has heard since he arrived, wherever he is. Whatever he is.

He tilts his head back down to look back at the path and in front of him is a short, chubby girl, with long brown hair and straight bangs and pale white eyes rolled back in her head.

Viktor knows this girl well. He has been her. He has felt her pain and felt her worries and felt her embarrassment and sorrows and scars and he knows, with conviction, that she is here to chastise him.

He is not scared, for some reason, but his skin crawls.

“Viktor, Viktor,” the girl cries, distressed, tears rolling down her face, fat and always coming in their amusement. “Viktor, what have you done now?” She appears to be looking for him with her pale unseeing eyes and Viktor tries to walk closer, to console his younger self, but the sludge prevents him from moving. “I don’t know,” he tries to say. “Why are you here?” but his mouth doesn’t let him, and when he opens it the only thing that comes out is open air, cool and unfeeling and emotionless.

The girl says, “The pain will come soon.”

“Viktor, you have made a grave mistake,” says another voice, and when he looks again, the girl is gone and in her place is a tall, bulky man with an olive trench coat and closely cut butter-yellow hair. There is the vaguest notion of recognition behind those white eyes, and Viktor startles by the intensity of it.

Another blink and the man is now a curly haired dark skinned woman, and she leans forward, lips by Viktor’s ear, and he tries to jerk back from her touch, but he can’t move. The woman whispers, only you will realize what you have done, and leans away and when he sees her again, moon-white eyes pale and unseeing, she is another person, a man, with short, curled hair and a mischievous grin, and the man says, “You will regret this,” and then skips around Viktor in a circle and he tries in vain to escape the sludge and paralysis, and the black sludge is rising, rising, coating his legs and the bottom of his torso and is crawling higher and higher still, up to his neck and chin and Viktor cannot move and he seems to be suffocating from the power of the black sludge and the man with the grin laughs, happy, so happy to see his pain and suffering, so happy to see justice carried out, and then the man is gone and in his place is a boy.

The worst part is that the boy does not do anything. He just stands there, watching, knowing, and his eyes are not white, they’re blue-green. A startlingly familiar color. He stares at Viktor with recognition and disappointment.

“Viktor,” he says. “This was not the plan.”

And then Viktor remembers, in a racecar rush, vibrant and killing.

The pain, the flash, the regret. It comes in like a waterfall, almost crushing him alive.

“Five,” he says, almost desperately, pleadingly. “I couldn’t.”

“You need to go back,” Five says, quickly. There is no question, no hesitation. Viktor wishes he had that confidence. “You can’t stay here. You don’t belong here. You weren’t supposed to kill yourself too.”

“Neither do you,” Viktor argues. “You were too young.”

“I was fifty eight,” snaps Five. “I was done anyway.”

I was done anyway.

How had Viktor not seen it?

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he whispers, not really a request. “I would have helped you.” He doesn’t add: I’ve been there. I know how it feels to be alone.

To want to just… be gone.

“I wasn’t your problem,” Five waves away his words, eyes everywhere but Viktor.

“I care about you. You’re my brother.”

“Well, you shouldn’t. Care about me, that is. All it’s gonna bring you is trouble.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Viktor says, reserve going steely. How could Five just leave them like that, again?

He wanted to leave.

Why would he want to leave? How could he willingly kill himself?

But it was Viktor who killed him, really.

“Just go,” Five says, turning away; and Viktor is suddenly mad because it sounds a whole lot like what he said before, before he pointed the hand at himself, before he told Viktor to just kill me, you damn coward.

Viktor’s not the coward, Five is. Five’s the one who’s been running his whole life, first from their dad, and then from the Commission, and now he’s running from life into the comforting arms of Death.

Five’s the real coward here.

Viktor tells himself this, and it helps him stay calm as he says, “What made the Commission so angry as to plant the disease in your brain?” He needs an explanation. Maybe things can make more sense, maybe he can make a plan, maybe, maybe, maybe.

Five rolls his neck to the side, and it makes a cracking sound. “Pissed em’ off, that’s what. I refused to kill Kennedy, and when I went back to get the briefcases in the first apocalypse, they did it. While I was sleeping. It only hurt a little bit,” he adds when he sees the expression on Viktor’s face.

Somehow, Viktor does not believe him. Five’s pain threshold is like a tastefully decorated altar. It’s not really a threshold, and Allison had told them long ago that if Five downplayed something, it was definitely worse than he said.

Allison! What had happened to her? Viktor hasn’t seen his sister since three days ago, when he and Five broke off, away from the Sparrows. The others scattered elsewhere. None of them have reached out, or tried to communicate.

At least, not that he knows of. He hasn’t reached out to his siblings either, mostly because he can’t.

He really misses his sister. He misses his dumbass brothers, too, despite all odds.

“Viktor?”

Viktor looks up, and he’s made a plan, he’ll stall, just keep Five with him for as long as he can. “Sorry. I don’t think you can stay here. I won’t let you. If I go back, you’re coming with me.”

Five’s blue-green eyes darken, pupils contracting, until they are swallowed by an ocean of color, an abstract art of madness and torment. “I can’t. If I go back, I’ll just kill you. This is the only way.”

“There is always another way,” Viktor says, voice rising. “You taught me that yourself. There is always another way, and there is more than one way out. We can tie you down so you don’t hurt us. We can, we can confine you so you’ll still be with us somehow, I-”

“Do you hear yourself?” Five cuts in, snapping like a rubber band on the edge of a knife. “Do you seriously think I’ll agree to that? Why would I want to live in a world where I can’t do anything?”

He’s right, and Viktor knows it. The only reason Five is here in this medium space is because Viktor is. And because Viktor won’t let his memory go.

He’s selfish. The kind thing, the good thing to do, would be to let Five go to wherever it is he wants to go, and not hinder him in his travels. Viktor can honor his brother’s memory in his own, and let the spirit go free.

Klaus has told him enough about the dead for him to know that spirits don’t like to be contained.

“I don’t know,” Viktor says, softly, like falling snow. “This feels like Ben all over again.”

He doesn’t think that he can lose another brother, watch another fade away for real.

Viktor looks up again, and Five has moved to stand beside him, a comforting presence. “If you go back and I stay… there might be a chance that the timeline is changed. If I’m dead, I can’t be in Dallas in the past. That means that I’ll probably be with the Sparrows.”

Viktor sniffles. “I don’t know if I can handle that after seeing Ben.”

“It’s okay,” Five says, a little awkwardly. “I’ve already lived a long life anyway. I don’t mind.”

He still looks about twelve. It’s weird to hear him say that.

And Viktor still doesn’t want to let him go. Although it would be the kinder thing to do.

“The girl already met with me,” Five says, “And she said that I was ready to go. Whenever you are.”

“The girl-”

“She doesn’t want to meet with you. She said it’s not your time yet. So you can go. Whenever you think you can let me go.”

VIktor wipes his nose on the back of his hand and holds his arms out.

Five stares at them a little bit in confusion, and Viktor says, “One last hug, before I leave?”

Five smiles, just the tiniest bit out of the corner of his mouth, and Viktor thinks that he wishes he would have smiled like that more when he was alive.

His brother is warm, and his elbow pokes into Viktor’s stomach, but he finds he doesn’t mind. Five rests his head on top of Viktor’s shoulder, because he’s tall enough to do that now, Viktor sighs.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, Five,” he says quietly, and Five doesn’t reply, only buries his face deeper into Viktor’s hoodie.

Viktor wonders how long it’s been since Five’s been hugged like this.

Finally, his brother pulls away from the hug, and Viktor smiles at him a little.

“Bye, little brother,” Five says, crooking another sideways grin.

Viktor wishes he could capture him like this forever.

Remember him smiling.

He lets go, and the light is an overwhelming symphony in the dark.

#five hargreeves #tua #the umbrella academy #viktor hargreeves #Number seven #number five #Fanfiction #REVEL IN MY EIGHT PAGE LONG DEATH CURE AU

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