#karlsson on the other hand

[suburbanbonfire]

Your geno in the deck of cards is so good. You're so talented!!!

AAA thank you!!! I appreciate it!! I love making playing card designs, they're a super fun challenge. I think Geno is also my favorite of the four - his face is just so distinct and it turned out really well

[floodflameschosen]

Summary: you wake to the sound of a chainsaw and the sight of the neighbor’s tree coming down, taking along the home of a squirrel family you grew fond of ever since they first showed up. You're not sure why the fact hits you so hard, or why you end up crying in Jolly’s arms. But Jolly? He just holds you and makes a promise. And he always keeps his promises. Pairing: Jolly Karlsson x F!Reader CW: pure domestic fluff Word Count: 4k

Wednesday is the one day of the week you get to sleep in, work starting a few hours later than usual. No alarms, no rushing—just you, the familiar weight of Jolly’s arms around you, the blankets, and the warm peace of sleep.

You love Wednesdays, first because you hate waking up early and will take all the extra minutes of sleep you can get, but mostly because you’re usually brought out of dreamland by Jolly’s gentle kisses and the delicious smell of fresh coffee coming from the kitchen.

Except that’s not what wakes you today. Instead, it’s the sharp, much too loud sound of a chainsaw.

At first, it fuses with your dream—just another distorted background noise—but the second time it roars, you jolt upright, heart speeding. You push off the blankets and sit on the edge of the bed, blinking hard, trying to push through the haze of sleep.

The morning chill wraps itself around your legs, cold enough to make you shiver. You’re wearing nothing but an old oversized band tee—one of Jolly’s, the collar stretched and faded, soft from too many washes—and your arms curl around yourself as you shuffle over to the window.

When you look outside, your breath catches.

The old, big tree in your neighbor’s yard, the one everyone knows it’s where the neighborhood’s squirrel family lives, is being cut down.

You’ve watched the little creatures hop along the fence separating your house from the one next to it countless times, their fluffy tails standing proudly behind them as they chase each other across the powerlines. Occasionally, they would even pop up on your porch to stare your flowerpots down, as if they’ve got beef with your plants.

Now the tree they're used to living in is slowly coming down, and the squirrels are losing their home.

A man in a safety vest is halfway up the trunk, slicing through branches with practiced motions while another guides the cut limbs to the ground. The chainsaw buzzes again, and this time the sound seems to tear right through your chest.

You watch it all unfold from your bedroom window, frozen in place. Your chest hurts, feeling unbearably constricted, and there's pressure building behind your eyes. It doesn't take long for the tears to come—sudden and real. You press your fingers to your cheeks, finding them wet.

You don’t know why you’re crying. It’s just a tree. Just squirrels. You’re probably—no, you know you’re overreacting. But the image of their home being ripped apart, branch by branch, makes something small and tender inside of you ache.

You head downstairs, blinking furiously, trying to pull yourself together. The kitchen smells like coffee and toast and all around there's the comforting sound of food being made, accompanied by the soothing feeling of knowing someone woke up before you, and you're not alone.

Jolly is at the counter, pouring coffee into two mugs, still in his pajama pants, his hair up in a loose, messy bun. When he turns and sees your face, he freezes for a second, before jolting into motion as he leaves the coffee pot behind and makes his way to you.

“Whoa, hey—What happened? What’s wrong, älskling?” He asks, voice dripping with gentle concern as he reaches for you, his hands slowly gliding up your arms, palms warm against your skin.

Your lip wobbles, and as you try to speak, your voice trips over itself, tangled up in the lump in your throat. 

 “They’re—” You say, voice thin, pointing in the general direction of the terrible buzzing sound still coming from outside. “Jolly, they're cutting it down. The tree next door. The one with the squirrel family.”

“Oh, baby...”

“I—I don’t know why I’m crying,” you mumble, wiping at your cheeks, a weak, self deprecating laugh escaping your lips. “It’s so stupid. There are other trees, I know that. I just—I woke up and saw it happening and I just started crying, and now I can’t stop.”

Before you can take another breath, Jolly’s arms wrap around you, warm and firm, and he holds you against his bare chest, rocking you gently side to side. He’s done this a thousand times before, his preferred method of calming you down whenever you’re feeling sad or anxious, and it always works.

“They probably had to, love.” He murmurs against your hair, gentle hands rubbing up and down your back over the thin fabric of the shirt you're wearing. “That tree’s so old, the roots might’ve rotted or gotten too unstable. If it fell on their house…”

He sighs, shaking his head, then softens his voice even more. “I know it sucks either way, but the squirrels are smart, yeah? They’ll find a new place, and they’re gonna be okay, älskling. I promise.”

You nod against his chest, letting the familiar smell of him, his warmth, settle into your bones. His thumbs rub soothing circles into your lower back, and slowly, you let yourself settle against him.

It takes a while, but as you hold each other, standing in the middle of your kitchen, you eventually manage to relax, and the tears stop. Jolly steps back to gaze at you, cupping your face in his hands and thumbing away the wet trail your tears left behind.

He doesn't move away to finish preparing breakfast before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss against your lips. When everything’s finished, Jolly suggests that you eat together in his studio rather than the kitchen.

The walls are soundproof, which means you don’t have to hear the chainsaw as it occasionally comes to life—just his calm and soothing voice while you share a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, as well as slices of fresh fruit.

He keeps the mood light, telling you about the weird dream he had involving a haunted concert venue and a goose in a cowboy hat that sounded suspiciously like Noah whenever it spoke.

You laugh once, then again. Then a real one this time.

Jolly goes as far as playing one of those cheesy, soft rock playlists he secretly loves but pretends to hate, humming along just to see you smile as you eat.

By the time you’re brushing your teeth upstairs, the weight in your chest has dulled to something more manageable. You get dressed slowly, pulling on your work clothes, taming your hair, dabbing concealer beneath your eyes.

In the hallway mirror, you look more or less like yourself again.

When it's time for you to leave for work, Jolly walks you to the door and kisses your forehead, the tip of your nose, then finally your lips. When you hug goodbyes, you squeeze him extra tightly, a silent thank you for being so understanding about this, even when you don't understand it yourself.

As you walk to your car, you glance once more at the last remains of the tree; most of it is already gone, the yard littered with sawdust and thick limbs like fallen soldiers.

You don’t cry this time.

You still don’t really know why it made you so emotional—why something as simple as a couple of squirrels losing their tree broke you for a few hours.

It’s not like they don’t have other options. There are plenty of trees in the neighborhood, so Jolly is right—they’ll be fine.

Still, when you drive away, your chest aches in that small, lingering way that you can't explain.

Even before your car disappears around the corner, Jolly’s already reaching for his phone.

He scrolls to Nicholas’s name and hits the call button, pacing a slow circle around the kitchen. He waits barely two rings before Nick picks up, voice still groggy.

“Yo?”

“Hey, man,” Jolly says, cutting straight to the point. “Remember that Animal Crossing bench you made for Nadine?”

A pause.

“Uh. Yeah? Why?”

“How far do your woodworking skills go?”

Next time he speaks, Nick sounds fully awake.

“What?”

Jolly exhales through his nose and rubs a hand over his jaw.

“Like, could you build something else?”

Another pause. Then a short laugh.

“Okay. What exactly are we talking about here?”

“A squirrel house,” Jolly says.

There’s a silence on the other end that lasts long enough for him to wonder if the call dropped.

Then:

“I’m sorry. A what?”

“A squirrel house,” Jolly repeats, firmer now. “A nice one. Like… cozy. Maybe a little stylish, even. You know, deluxe condo vibes, but tiny. For rodents. Plural.”

“What the fuck would you need something like that for?”

Jolly sighs again, and offers a very brief explanation of the events from earlier. There’s a clattering noise, like Nick’s dropped something, followed by an incredulous, barked-out laugh.

“Oh my god. You’re really in love.”

Jolly groans.

“Don’t start.”

“You are so far gone,” Nick says. “This is what domestication looks like. One day it’s squirrels, next thing you know you’re building cribs. For tiny humans. Plural.”

“Just shut up and bring your tools,” Jolly mutters, already walking toward the garage. He doesn't wait for an answer before he hangs up.

Two hours later, the doorbell rings.

When Jolly opens it, Nick’s standing there in a hoodie and beat-up jeans, holding a massive tool bag in one hand and a reusable coffee cup in the other. His smirk is already locked and loaded.

“You know,” he says, not bothering with a proper greeting before stepping inside, “when I pictured helping you build something, I assumed it’d be a record shelf. Maybe a guitar rack. Not a woodland creature mini estate.”

“Can we get started now, or are you gonna keep talking shit like you didn't build your girlfriend a bench yourself?” Jolly says, but there’s no real bite behind it. His eyes flicker toward the garage. “I cleared up a space already. We’ve gotta get this done before Saturday.”

Nick raises a brow.

“Oh? So it’s a surprise?”

“Yeah, she has no idea I’m doing this.” Jolly says casually, already walking ahead. “And I don’t wanna half-ass it, so we better get to work.”

What he doesn’t say is: she cried this morning and it broke something in me. He also doesn’t say: I made a promise that the squirrels would be okay, and I keep those, especially to her.

Nick lingers in the entryway just a second longer, then follows him to the garage.

The project begins.

Three long afternoons in the garage later—hammering, sanding, measuring twice and still cutting wrong—and the squirrel house is finally done.

It gets finished just in time.

Nick almost drills into his hand once, and Jolly glues his fingers together at least twice. At one point, they both realize they built the entire back wall upside down and have to start over because the measures are all wrong and it looks wonky.

But they keep going, because Jolly made a promise, and by Friday evening, it’s ready. And it’s… cute.

Like, painfully cute.

Painted in soft, mossy green and warm earthy brown, with tiny faux windows and a slanted roof made of carefully lined wood shingles. There’s a round little entrance cut out at the bottom, and two jutting “balconies” just above it that make the whole thing look like a squirrel-sized apartment complex.

He even glued a miniature acorn to the front like a doorknob. It’s foolish, and sweet, and very him.

But the best part?

Carved into the side in blocky, uneven letters—because Jolly insisted on doing it himself even though Nick offered to laser it—is the phrase: NUT HOUSE—keep out! Squirrels only!

Jolly stands back, hands on his hips, admiring it like it’s a work of fine art. Nick just shakes his head and smiles.

“You really do love her, don't you?”

“Yeah,” Jolly says quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do.”

Saturday morning, before the sun has fully lifted into the sky, Jolly tiptoes out of the garage and into the backyard with the finished house held carefully in his arms.

The world is still mostly asleep, the sky a soft, pale gray just beginning to blush pink at the edges, and the grass is yet again damp with dew. A light breeze stirs the air, gentle and cool, carrying the faintest sound of birdsong and the rustle of leaves.

Your backyard tree—the one you always said looked like it belonged in a storybook—waits patiently in the far corner of the yard. Its bark is rough and knotted, its branches sprawling wide like open arms. He stands there for a moment, just looking up at it, the little house still pressed to his chest.

Then he moves forward, picks the perfect spot on a thick, sturdy branch, and starts the work. Each nail goes in slowly and steadily, Jolly worried about being too loud, not wanting the sound to wake you up before he gets the chance to. He’s careful, almost reverent with the wooden house, adjusting the angle, checking the balance, stepping back to look at it from different sides.

When it’s finally up—secure, proud, nestled into place like it has always belonged there—he exhales. A slow, quiet thing that leaves him smiling to himself.

Once everything’s where it’s supposed to be, Jolly wipes his hands on his sweatpants, glances up at the tree one last time, and quietly makes his way back inside.

Upstairs, everything is still, silent. You’re curled up on your side of the bed, half tangled in the sheets and the soft folds of yet another one of his old shirts—your legs bare, your skin goosebumped from the early morning chill. The curtains filter in the light morning glow, painting you in shades of silver and soft pink.

Jolly crosses the room on quiet feet and sits on the edge of the mattress beside you. He doesn’t say anything at first, just reaches out and runs his fingers gently through your hair, watching the way the soft strands curl and fall, the way your brow twitches faintly under his touch.

You don’t stir, though.

So he leans down, presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and breathes the words into your hair.

“Wake up, älskling. There’s something you need to see.”

You shift with a soft groan, eyes fluttering open as you blink against the light. You’re still half-asleep, your voice low and hoarse when you murmur: “What time is it?”

“Early,” he says softly, smiling. “But it’ll be worth it. Promise.”

Your limbs are heavy with sleep, sluggish, reluctant to move. But something in his voice—gentle, almost hopeful—pulls you upright. He helps you out of bed, guides you by the hand downstairs and out the back door, his fingers cold around your warm ones.

When you step outside, the grass is cool and damp beneath your feet. The breeze brushes against your skin, slipping under the hem of your shirt, and you shiver as you step into the soft light of morning, wondering what could be so important that he’d take you away from the warm sheets to bring you out in the morning chill.

Then you see it—there, perched high on the thick trunk of the tree, is a tiny wooden house, painted in soft, forest colors. Hand-carved lettering on the side.

Your breath catches as you take a step forward, looking at the little house like you’re not sure it’s real, like your eyes are playing tricks on you.

“Jolly…” you whisper, voice cracking. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with his hands in his sweatpants pockets, trying not to fidget.

You turn to look at him.

“You did this?”

“Well—Nick helped a lot. But yeah.” He shrugs, sheepish, and ducks his head a little. “Told you they’d be okay, didn't I?”

You laugh. A wet, teary little sound that escapes your throat before you can stop it, because somehow—somehow, he did this. He made it okay.

He heard your tears and your heartbreak over a group of squirrels losing their home and made it better, because when something tugs at your heart, it tugs at his, too. And this represents so much more than a simple wooden squirrel house.

Jolly doing that is his silent way of saying, I saw you. I heard you. And I wanted to give you back a little piece of joy.

And you—you’re overwhelmed. Because it’s ridiculously wonderful and sweet and perfect.

Crossing the grass in three quick steps, you throw yourself into his arms, your own arms around his neck now, burying your face against the column of his throat. Jolly catches you, holds you tight, breathes you in, sways the both of you side to side like he did that morning in the kitchen.

You stay wrapped up in him for a long, quiet moment.

The chill in the air doesn’t reach you here, not with his arms around you, not with the steady warmth of his chest pressed to yours and the faint scent of cedar and paint still clinging to his hoodie. You could stay here forever.

When you finally pull back, your eyes are glassy, but your smile is steady.

“Thank you,” you whisper, both hands sliding down his shoulders to rest on his chest. “I don’t think you even understand how much this means to me.”

“I think I do,” he says, just as soft.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie.

“You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“I wanted to.” He whispers, and the sincerity, the tenderness in his voice makes your heart ache with the intensity and the amount of love you feel right now.

You lift your chin just slightly, and he leans in like it’s instinct—like he’s done it a thousand times and would be more than happy to do it a thousand more. The kiss is warm and slow, his mouth brushing yours with so much gentleness it knocks the breath from your lungs. One of his hands comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb sweeping across your cheek.

When you pull away, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, his eyes still closed.

“I love you,” you murmur, so close your lips brush against his again when you speak. “So much.”

His breath hitches, and when his eyes open, there’s something bright and quiet behind them, like the sun rising just for you.

“I love you too, älskling.” He whispers. “You have no idea.”

Another kiss—quicker now, giddy—and then you gently untangle yourself from him, rubbing your cold hands up and down your bare arms.

“I’ll get breakfast ready today,” you say, already backing toward the house. “That’s the least I can do.”

Jolly just laughs as he watches you go, turning around and skipping toward the house before he can object. His shirt hangs off your frame just right, and he leans against the tree like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

God, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And the wildest part? You love him right back.

Jolly closes his eyes for a second and just breathes in the cool morning air. 

You said you’re making breakfast because that’s the least you can do. And all he thinks is:

Nah. You’ve already given me everything.

It’s been two months since the squirrel house went up.

Two months since Jolly woke you up and led you barefoot into the backyard with dew clinging to your feet and sleep still fogging your eyes.

Two months since you saw it—the tiny handmade house, perched proudly against the old storybook tree—and fell in love all over again with the man who’d built it just because you were sad.

The squirrels live there now.

They’ve made it home, settled into the balconies and tiny windows like they were born for it. They stopped glaring at your plants. One of them even started stealing berries off the porch table when you’re not looking.

And now… now you understand why it hit you so hard when the neighbor’s tree was cut down. Why the sound of the chainsaw shredded something deep inside your chest. Why you couldn’t stop imagining a squirrel family losing everything, even though you knew—logically—they’d just find another tree and move on.

Back then, you chalked it up to being too sensitive. To being tired, maybe. You didn’t know. But now, it all makes sense.

The hormones. The way everything has felt sharper. Heavier. Brighter.

You didn’t tell Jolly you were late. You didn’t want to worry him—not until you were sure. So you waited.

Waited through three different mornings. Three different sticks. Three different results, all glaring back at you with the same result displayed.

Pregnant.

And now, here you are—Sunday morning, sunlight pooling over the porch like melted gold, a plate of toast between you and Jolly, and a secret swelling inside your chest.

He’s sipping his coffee beside you, barefoot and warm, his legs stretched out toward the steps, eyes still half-lidded with sleep. There’s jam on the corner of his mouth, and his hair’s still messy from the pillow, and he has no idea that everything’s about to change.

Your heart pounds, and you don’t know why you’re nervous. He’s going to be happy. He’s going to be over the moon, actually. He’s going to cry, maybe, and kiss you like you just gave him the world. But still, your hands tremble around your mug.

You need to tell him.

You’re terrified.

Excited, yes—more than anything. There’s a tiny heartbeat inside you, and the world feels holy because of it. But it’s big. It’s so big. And it’s unknown and it’s real now in a way it wasn’t before.

You chew a bite of toast, swallow it down with a sip of lukewarm coffee, and glance toward the squirrel house. They’re out again today, climbing, playing, knocking little pieces of bark down onto the grass.

Happy. Settled. Safe.

You take a deep breath and turn to Jolly, fingers tightening around your mug.

“Hey,” you say softly.

He hums, glancing sideways with a lazy grin. “Hmm?”

“Do you still remember how to build stuff?”

He furrows his brow, confused but still smiling.

“Like what?” He furrows his brow, confused but still smiling. “A squirrel mansion? Want me to upgrade them to a three-bedroom?”

You laugh, but your voice is shaking, and the sound comes out smaller than you meant it to.

“No. Not that. Just… in general. Did Nick teach you everything you need to know about woodworking?”

He straightens a little, now officially puzzled.

“I mean, I picked up on a lot. Why? What are we building?”

You look at him.

Really look at him—this man who built a home for a squirrel family just to make you smile. Who holds you like the world might end if he doesn’t.

Your stomach flips.

And your voice comes out softer than you expected. Fragile, but certain.

“Because we might need to build a crib next.”

Silence.

The kind that expands and wraps around both of you, heavy with meaning.

Jolly blinks.

His eyes search yours, wide and stunned, trying to confirm what he just heard. His mouth opens—but no words come out.

You reach for his hand. It’s warm. Steady. Anchoring.

“I took three tests,” you say, voice wavering, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I wanted to be sure before I told you.”

And then, he finally breathes out. A sound caught between a laugh and a sob. His eyes go glassy.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Are you serious?”

You nod.

His hands are already reaching for you, mug forgotten, toast discarded. He pulls you into his lap so fast you nearly drop your plate. His arms wrap around your waist, and he buries his face into your shoulder, laughing and crying all at once.

“We’re gonna have a baby?” he says, voice breaking against your skin.

You nod again, arms around his neck, holding onto him like you’re afraid you might float away.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes shining with delighted tears, smile wide and stunned and so full. His fingers trace your cheek like he can’t believe you’re real.

And then he glances toward the squirrel house. One of them is perched on the roof, tail flicking smugly.

Jolly huffs a watery laugh. “Guess I’d better start sketching some blueprints.”

You laugh, eyes stinging with your own emotional tears, and when he kisses you—long and slow and reverent—you know.

You’re gonna be just fine.

And you’re not afraid anymore.

just a little blurb based on a thought @cowpokeomens dug up from my brain while she threatened to chase me down with a flamethrower and talked about jolly painting nurseries hehe

[cowpokeomens]

Pairing: Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI WITH THIS!!! Anyways, we got some smut, some vaginal fingering, p in v, blowjobs, praise kink, cute pet names, lots of kissing, lots of me being h-word, enjoy folks!

A/N: I found myself cringing when people brought up this fic because I thought it was so poorly written, given how much (I think) I've grown as a writer in the last few years. So, in honor of it being Jolly's birthday month, I'm releasing an edited version of this fic (Almost 2 years later!!!) for you all to enjoy. Part Two coming soon :-)

Read the Original Here If You Want (even though it's really bad.)

He’s staring.

You feel him staring.

Part of you wonders why the others aren’t making fun of him yet - they usually jump at the opportunity to clown on each other, scoff when someone is being “soft.” You don’t dare risk a glance to judge the nature of the stare - is it soft? If not, what is it? Surely you can’t be the only one aware of the stare to begin with?

You do your best not to wriggle around where you sit on the floor, cuffing your sweats one more time out of nervousness. They’re from some super-secret-elite-mega-ultra-exclusive merch drop; Noah had insisted on you needing a pair, because “Who the fuck doesn’t own a single pair of sweats?” They are as comfortable as described, if not a bit long. Such is the case when clothing was designed by giants, you reckon.

“Lillis.” You hear a Swedish murmur, knowing the name is directed at you. You remember the first time you heard the phrase, had corrected him with a polite, “Oh, that’s not my name.” You also remember his shy smile when he said he knew. You never got around to asking him to translate, worried it means “donkey shit” and will ruin the maladaptive daydream in your head where he wants you back and-

Stop, you think to yourself. We don’t go there.

You finally raise your eyes to his, dark and thoughtful and all-consuming - eyes that have been trained on you for at least half an hour. “Hm?” Is your dazzling response. 

He gives you a sweet smile, the barest curve of his lips. “Everyone said they’re going to grab food for dinner, are you going to tag along or slum it with me here until they get back?” He leans in conspiratorially, stage-whispering, “If you stay, we can warm up in Mario Kart and dethrone Noah.”

“As if.” Comes a scoff from the kitchen, where the man in question is slipping on a pair of slides. 

“New plan: You have to stay, because I’m tired of his arrogance.” Nicholas chimes in matter-of-factly, tugging on a pair of worn-out sneakers. 

A debate breaks out between them, Nick serving as instigator to both sides as Noah lists all the reasons why he’s “so damn good” at the racing game. A tap on your shoulder tears your attention away from the scuffle. 

He’s closer now, too close for you to hide your sharp intake of breath at his proximity. “So you’re going with those goofballs?” Jolly gives you a knowing look, as if he already knows the answer. No doubt it’s evident on your face. 

You return his smile. “I think I’ll sit that one out, thanks.” Then, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the kerfuffle in the kitchen, you call to the others, “Y’all go ahead, I’ll hang back here.”

Nicholas poorly hides a smile, Noah outright rolling his eyes as he responds. “Figures. Text us your order, don’t do anything nasty on the couch-” He’s cut off with a loud smack, voice trailing down the hallway as the group hastily exits. “Ow, fuck. What? It’s true! He’s been staring-”

You can feel your cheeks warming up as his words grew fainter. Jolly seems unbothered, already setting up the Nintendo Switch controllers. 

As he hands you your signature purple, you clear your throat. “So, unfortunately, I don’t know if we’ll actually be able to dethrone the king tonight. You know how much I suck at Mario Kart - and I haven’t played in months probably.” You admit sheepishly.

Jolly huffs a laugh at your confession, coming over to sit beside you; Close enough that your outstretched legs are bumping against each other. You can smell the shampoo he used that morning, cologne coming off him in soft waves, the scent of amber and tonka bean mixing with something else that was heady and dark. You want to burrow your face into the smell and fall asleep. 

“Fear not, älskling, we can sharpen your skills in no time.” He makes quick work of adjusting the settings, then turns to you. “C’mere.”

You blink. “I am here?”

Huffing another laugh, he motions to the ground between his legs. “No, like, here. Come sit, I can’t help you from all the way over there.”

Your face is scarlet, you know. You can’t look him in the eyes, but you shuffle over to settle yourself between his long legs without protest. Your back is rod-straight, afraid of what it might feel like to relax against his chest. 

His arms come up and around you, making you feel small in comparison as he places his hands atop yours on the controller. Long hair tickles your arm as he leans forward, chin resting at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. Distantly, you remind yourself to breathe.

“Okay, so the first thing we’re going to do is customize the car. What character do you want?” His voice is soft in your ear as he presses a series of buttons on the controller.

“Peach.” You reply automatically, thankful you don’t have to think about it.

You can feel his smile on your shoulder. “Princess for the princess, sounds good.” Selecting the blonde character, the screen shifts to a selection of bikes, wheels, and gliders as he continues. “So if you press this button, it’ll show you the stats for each option. You can go for speed, but keep in mind that it can be harder to turn…” He continues on as you find yourself relaxing into the lull of his voice, nodding at the appropriate times, letting his fingers guide you across the screen. Your shoulders slumped a bit, back coming to rest against his chest ever so slightly, the soft material of his sweatshirt cushioning you. 

“... did you get any of that?” Your brain catches up slowly at his pointed question.

“Hm?” You straighten a bit, trying to appear alert. “Oh- uh, yeah. I want the little pink sports car - with the stripes on it.”

It’s evident he’s fighting back a laugh as he replies. “That one has the lowest speed, älskling.”

“The stripes will make me faster.” You argue. “And what is an ‘L-sling?’ Will it make me go faster, too?”

He can’t hold back his laugh now, shoulders curving forward to bump against you gently with the action. “Älskling, not ‘L-sling,’ lillis.”

You sigh, exasperated. “What does that even mean? It’s no fair, I don’t even know what you’re saying! Is it mean?” He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off as panic bubbles up in you. “Oh my god, it’s totally mean, I change my mind - I don’t want to know -”

“Baby.” Freezing at the word, your mouth snaps shut. Setting down the controller, his hand settles lightly on your thigh. Your skin sears where his fingertips graze. “They’re not bad words, they’re just-” He stops, sounding hesitant. 

You decide to be brave, turning around so you can see his face. Sitting back on your heels, you look at him expectantly, trying to convey patience. 

There’s a long, quiet moment between you, where he seems to study your face. You hope he finds something admirable there, or at least interesting. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He says at last. 

Cheeks flushing, your eyes move down immediately to where your fingers are toying with each other. One of his hands reaches out to grab yours, stilling their movement. 

You take a deep breath before you speak again. “Okay, trade.” 

He cocks his head, confused. “Trade?”

You nod. “Mhm. You tell me what ‘lillis’ means, and I’ll tell you something too.”

He seems to give it serious thought. “Do I get to pick what you tell me?”

You furrow your brows despite yourself. It made sense - you are making demands, so he can also make demands. A better question would be, can you handle what he would ask?

Only one way to find out. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair. Now go.”

A ghost of a smile flashes across his face. “Lillis is like, ‘little one,’ I guess would be the closest translation.” He has the decency to look sheepish for a moment, but continues, “It’s, uh, well - it’s kind of like baby talk?”

“You’re calling me a little baby?” You ask sharply, raising an eyebrow. 

The laugh that erupts from him blissfully shatters the tension of the moment. “No, I’m calling you little. In the tone that you’d use with a baby. It’s-” 

“I am not little!” You object indignantly. 

Giving you a simpering look, he continues, “It’s a term of endearment. Not bad. Now,” both of his hands come to rest on the tops of your thighs. “You tell me something - something you would never, ever tell me otherwise.”

A million ideas flash through your mind, ranging from domestic scenes of cooking dinner to carnal desires that you only indulge in when you are at home, in your bed, very alone. Your face heats up, whether from shame or arousal you aren’t sure. Now isn’t the time for it anyways, you need to come up with an answer, quickly. 

“I can see you overthinking, älskling. Spill it.” He ducks his head down to look into your eyes, and your mouth opens of its own accord. 

“The first time I saw you I wanted to kiss you.” You blurt, jaw snapping shut, as if the force of it could somehow form a vacuum that will suck all the words back in. 

He’s grinning now, a devilish thing that’s entirely too smug and self-satisfied given the circumstances. “Oh yeah?”

“Shut up.” Comes your grumble, equally as frustrated with him as you are with your inability to formulate a witty response. 

Leaning in closer, his fingers curl ever so slightly to grip the outer flesh of your thighs. “And now?”

Unsure of what he’s asking, you allow confusion to wrinkle your brow. “Now what?”

A smile lingers on his lips, the way wildflowers linger in the early chill of autumn. You realize too late that he’s too close again. “Do you still want to kiss me now?”

You swallow once, breaths ragged. You could lie, in theory - though you know it wouldn’t fool him for a second. It will allow you to continue pretending, though. You didn’t know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him loving you back, even with the real potential of it sitting in front of you. Your imagination can’t reject you unless you order it to, but this - Jolly, here, in the flesh - could grow bored of you, or see your many flaws and decide you aren’t worth the effort. Still, you don’t think you can lie to him. 

You nod. 

Another grin. His chin juts up ever so slightly, so that he’s staring down the column of his nose at you. “Then ask nicely.”

Your mouth drops open, taken aback. “‘Ask nicely?’” You repeat, rage bubbling up to the surface. “You should ask nicely! You’re the one staring at me today! Pulling me into your lap and ‘teaching me’ how to play Mario Kart, you big, dumb, Swedish-”

Your rant is cut off as his lips crash into yours, one hand leaving your thigh to grab your jaw, the other coming up to your back to pull you against him. You melt into the feeling, hands finding their way to his face. 

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, in between kisses. “My pretty girl.” His tongue comes out to trace your bottom lip, catching it in his teeth and tugging on it. The groan you let out is entirely involuntary, legs scrambling up so you can settle in his lap. He bites your lip again, and you can’t stop your hips from flexing into him, grinding down. 

“Älskling, we don’t have to do anything-” He mumbles around your mouth, hands pulling you impossibly closer. 

“We don’t,” You agree, continuing on, “But if it’s all the same to you, I have a lot of ideas filed under ‘things I would never, ever tell you-’” 

You can feel his smile in the kiss, large hands coming down to grip at your ass, kneading the flesh there. Whimpering, you paw at his shoulder pathetically.

“Not here.” He finally breaks away to pant. “Not the couch.”

The giggle that escapes you is almost delirious, as if the shock that this is really happening is sending you over the edge. 

He stands, pulling you up with him, guiding you both to his room with a calm assuredness that grounds you. Kind of.

“Oh, we’re gonna have weird, nasty sex.” You sing gleefully. 

Laughing as you both finally reach his room, he shuts and locks the door quickly after pulling you through the threshold. 

Backing up slowly, you’re hindered only by your calves running into the bed. As he turns to look at you, you finally register the heat in his gaze, pupils blown wide with lust. He’s in front of you in two quick strides, hands finding home on your hips. 

“Tell me.” He demands, tone not in the least bit demanding. “Tell me the ideas you have.”

You gulp, suddenly shy again. It’s one thing to say “weird” and “nasty” in the abstract, but to have you articulate the thoughts you’ve had? “Um…” Is all your mind can muster.

“Trade?” He prompts. His hands have made their way under your shirt, rubbing at the bare skin of your back. 

You nod, happier with the agreement. Still, you hesitate. “Um, well.” 

A thought pops in your head, one of the more profane on your list of fantasies. It must reflect on your face, because Jolly’s next words are: “Tell me.”

Knowing your cheeks are the color of summer tomatoes, you do your best not to stomp your feet and whine. A deal’s a deal, though. “Remember when I flew out to visit y’all in Texas? The hotel with the balconies?”

Something wicked glints in his eyes, following your line of thought. “Go on.”

“I thought- I thought about you. About us. On the balcony.” You stammer, not sounding even slightly as sexy as you hoped. 

“A bit more detail, baby.” He pushes gently, hands still rubbing soothing circles on your back.

Bolstering your courage, you continue. “I thought about what- what it would feel like, to have you bend me over the railing and do what you wanted with me. I thought-” You take a shaky breath as his hands still on your back. “Thought about the people who might have seen me- seen us and known that I was yours.”

His grip is tight as he pushes you back onto the bed. “Thank you for sharing. Want to know what I was thinking about that night, in the next room?”

You nod too fast, desperate. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He’s hovering over you now, nose tracing the column of your neck. “I could hear you, y’know.” You freeze at his words, but he keeps going. “Heard you moaning and whimpering. I thought about what it would be like to be able to spread you out and have my way with you. What kind of sounds you’d make, how long it would take for you to start shaking for me. How long it would take for you to fall apart for me.” His hands are under your shirt, holding your ribcage, thumbs playing the underside of your breasts. “I came twice before my cock finally softened enough for me to sleep.”

“Joakim.” You whimper wantonly, lust clawing at your senses. 

“There she is.” Comes his soft response. “The girl in the room next to mine. She kept saying my name, too - moaned it every time she came. Think you can do that again, pretty girl?” 

You nod desperately, body arching into his.

“Use your words, baby.” He prompts.

“Yes.” You gasp. “Whatever you want Joakim, I can do it.”

He pulls you into another deep kiss. “If you want to stop at any point, we can, okay?”

“Okay.” Your head is going to fall off with the vigor of your nodding. “Yeah.”

“Good girl. Take off your clothes.” He instructs, standing up to watch you. 

All but ripping off your shirt, you toss it to some corner of the room, your sweatpants following shortly after. You don’t give a thought to your undergarments until Jolly says “Nice panties.”

A glance down reminds you that your underwear have a gingerbread man emblazoned on the front of them, remnants of an impulse purchase last Christmas. “Shut up - I’m doing laundry tomorrow.” You can’t suppress your smile, though. 

He crawls back onto the bed, mouth enveloping yours as soon as he’s close enough. Leaning down, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking at it until it’s pebbled and hard against his tongue. You arch into his mouth as he shifts his focus to the other one, teeth just barely grazing the skin. He pauses only when you paw at his sweatshirt, whining, “You too, off, off.” 

He breaks the kiss long enough for him to tug the article over his head, hair going in every direction. Your hands are busy tugging at his pants, boxers doing nothing to conceal the bulge he’s sporting. You try stroking it through the material, but he swats your hands away before you can make much progress. “You first.” His tone is final. 

Pushing you back slowly, your legs come up to wrap around his waist as he cages you in. His hips grind into you experimentally, a groan leaving his mouth. 

“Please,” You whimper. “Joakim, please, I need something.”

“I know, pretty girl, so patient for me.” He soothes as he snakes a hand between your bodies, running his middle finger along your slit. You moan pitifully at the contact, tremors wracking your body at the slightest contact.

“You are so fucking wet, baby, holy shit-” His finger dips deeper this time, running over your soaked hole lightly. 

“Stop teasing.” You demand with zero authority in your voice.

His grin is lecherous. “If I was teasing you, you’d be crying.”

Two fingers are thrust inside you before you can muster a response, curled up in such a way that makes your legs fully extend, toes flexing. He sets a slow pace, languidly flexing his fingers into you at different angles until he hits a spot that makes you gasp. 

“There?” He questions, flexing again, as if to prove a point. 

“There, there, there, fuck, baby-” Your fingers dig into his shoulders, leveraging yourself as you grind into his hand. 

“That’s a good girl, take what you need.” His words are soft in your ear, the praise making you flush as his fingers continue to work the bundle of nerves inside you. 

“Fuck, Joakim, I’m - I’m gonna -” Your voice breaks off into staccato moans as he coaxes you through your orgasm, legs flailing uselessly against his sheets. 

You’re panting as he slips his fingers out of you, only to tug at your underwear until you lay completely bare before him. He nudges your legs apart, confusing you as he drops down to eye level with your soaked core.

“What are you - fuck.” Your question is abruptly cut off by his mouth on your clit, tongue lapping at the bud. Your back arches off the bed as he works his way down to your hole, tongue spearing in and out while his thumb continues to work your clit. Your hands tangle into the roots of his hair, hips canting up desperately as you fuck back into his face. 

“Joakim - I - I can’t -” Guttural moans escape you as you fall over the precipice yet again, thighs quivering as his thumb rubs your clit through the tremors. 

Breathing raggedly, you shove your hair out of your face, sweat collecting on your forehead. You vaguely register the blurry spots in your vision, making everything slightly out of focus. Jolly comes up to look at you, your cum coating him from nose to chin. You don’t hesitate to pull him into a kiss, shuddering as you taste yourself on his lips. 

Your head flops back onto the mattress as he backs away, vision still blurry. 

“You done?” He prods gently. 

“Absolutely not, if you don’t put your dick in me I will die, Joakim Karlsson-” You don’t finish your thought as you both dissolve into giggles. Finally you sit up, crawling over to hover on top of him. “My turn.”

You make quick work of his boxers, resolutely not letting yourself linger on the wet patch that can be seen on the front. His cock springs free, and you do your best not to salivate- failing miserably. “God, it’s prettier than I ever imagined.” You whisper, wonder in your voice. 

Joakim laughs at you again, hands coming up to cover his face. Pretty it is, indeed. A cherry red tip mocks you, capping off a sizable length, veins protruding down the underside. Dark curls nestle around the base, not a full bush, but far from bare. You want it in your mouth, nay- in your esophagus. 

You don’t realize you voice your thoughts out loud until Jolly roars with laughter, head thrown back as he cackles. 

Pouting until he catches your expression, his laughter dying down to a smile. “By all means, don’t let me stop you from reaching your dreams.” He gestures to himself as he speaks. 

You sniff haughtily, grabbing the girth and giving it a few experimental strokes. A soft sigh leaves the man’s mouth at your movements, body relaxing into the bed. Leaning forward enough to pop the tip into your mouth, you suckle softly, experimentally. A hand comes up to pet your hair, a light grip settling in your roots. You take more of him, breathing deeply through your nose as your mouth works its way down his shaft, pulling back slowly. Pushing yourself down again, you only stop when your nose is tickled by the curly hairs at the base.

“Fuck, baby, so good for me…” Jolly’s eyes are glued to you as you slide off, taking him deeply again, repeating the actions until his grip in your hair tightens. You find a rhythm quickly, spit dripping down your chin as you work him.

“Älskling, I don’t want to cum like this-” His words made you slow until you slip off with a loud pop. He sighs at the loss. “One day- when I have a whole lot more self control than I do now- I’m gonna fuck your face until my cum leaks out of the sides of your mouth.”

Your brain goes foggy at such a prospect, unable to form a coherent sentence. Huffing a laugh at your expression, he flips you both over so that you are back underneath him. One hand shoots out to his bedside table, rummaging around until he procures a condom. He tears it open with his teeth, sliding it on with practiced hands. 

“You ready?” He checks one last time, and you know with certainty that he would stop right now if you told him to. 

It’s what gives you the comfort to whine in response.

“Yes, please, come on-” Your sentence breaks off with a gasp as he enters you slowly, your already-sensitive hole stretching to accommodate his size. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, slowly working you open. “Joakim, please, I want- I want it deep.”

You hear a sharp intake of breath, then he all but folds you in half as your legs are pushed up to rest on his shoulders. He bottoms out in one fluid motion, a feeling that has your eyes rolling up into your skull as you hands grasp at his arms. 

His pace is unrelenting, unforgiving as he fucks into you. You’re babbling incoherently, a mixture of moans and “fuck, Joakim” filling the air. He leans over further, somehow pushing even deeper into you.

“Does my girl like that? Is she getting fucked deep enough?” You can hear the need in his voice, and distantly, you think he might feel as fucked-out as you do.

“I- I-” You couldn’t string together words if your life depended on it. 

He places a kiss on your jaw, an action that would be tender had he not been fucking you so thoroughly. Your climax approaches you like a freight train, until you’re clawing at Jolly- arms, back, whatever you could reach. 

“Joakim, I’m gonna cum, I can’t-” Your words are cut off by a gargled moan.

“Good girl, cum for me, milk my cock pretty girl.” He groans, face buried in the side of your neck.

That’s all it takes to finish you off, back arching clean off the bed as you come in spurts, legs shaking as Jolly fucks you through your third orgasm. 

He comes shortly after, hands tightening almost painfully on your hips as his pelvis grinds into you. Pulling out with a final huff, he collapses onto the bed next to you. 

You curl up into his chest instinctively, breathing in his familiar scent. He places a kiss on top of your head, chest still heaving with labored breaths. A hand strokes your back lazily, tracing patterns, playing different imaginary notes on nonexistent frets.

Mind wandering, you consider what this means for the dynamic between the two of you. You always assumed your feelings were one-sided, but are now reconsidering that in light of the last hour. 

Jolly isn’t the sort to keep a “Friend With Benefits,” based on conversations you’ve had with him in the past. You certainly aren’t the person to casually sleep with people, though you have no problem if others do. There were just too many feelings tangled up with sex for you to be able to separate them, and you thought Jolly functioned the same way.

Thought, that is. People can change their mind, maybe he doesn’t want anything serious right now. You try not to frown when considering this could be a one-time occurance, or worse, a casual arrangement. 

He’s been open with you all afternoon, though, so why not ask?

Finally, you speak up. “So, what does this make us?”

“What do you want us to be?” Comes his reply, calm but open. You think you can hear him grinning, damn him.  

“That is such a cop-out, Jolly, come on now.” You definitely don’t pout at him.

He shakes with silent laughter. Bastard. “Ideally? I’m thinking a fall wedding, maybe 3 kids, I really like the name ‘Axel,’ but I’m willing to hear your ideas too-”

You slap his chest playfully, all of your worry dissipating as he spoke. “I meant moreso ‘exclusive’ and ‘official.’”

How frowns at you dramatically. “What is not ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ about 3 beautiful children together? Is this an American thing-”

“Shut up.” You cut him off with a kiss, noses remaining pressed together as you pull away. “Since you’re being so difficult, you’re my boyfriend now, and you have no say in the matter.” 

He grins, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I guess I could learn to love that.” 

You’re about to reply when the front door slams shut. “Sorry guys, the taco place was stupid fucking busy, we- hey, where’d they go?” Comes Noah’s voice, faint. 

“You said not to do anything nasty on the couch.” Nick reminds him helpfully, sounding like he already has half a taco in his mouth. 

You can practically hear Noah shuddering in horror. “That is disgusting- hey! If you can hear me, y’all are nasty-” 

“There’s tacos whenever you kids are done!” Nicholas chimes in.

[kaliforniahigh]

But it would've been fun. If you would've been the one - jolly karlsson (part. 2)

It's finally out!!!! This is the part 2 to this Jolly imagine that I wrote.

Warnings: angst, a wedding, reader smokes a blunt, Jolly is insecure, a long dialogue and a happy ending after all <3 I also know nothing about weddings or if Bryan has a partner or not LOL

WC: 5k

Requests are closed for now.

The invitation came in the mail a few weeks after the fallout.

Bryan & Cecilia

Request the pleasure of your company at the ceremony of their wedding.

You stared at the beautiful invitation in your hands like you've been doing in the past couple of days since Bryan dropped it off himself at your house, wondering what you were supposed to do now. That day, you had a conversation with him that you haven't been able to get out of your head.

"I know things have been rocky with Jolly. I don't know why because he refuses to tell us. But I just wanted to let you know that everyone misses you, and I'd really like for you to be at my wedding", Bryan told you. So Jolly refused to tell them what happened?

Before you could think about it, the people pleaser inside of you answered before your brain could catch up with the words coming out of your mouth.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Bryan. Don't worry, I'll be there", you gave him a reassuring smile and he hugged you before leaving, telling you he was rushing to the fitting of his suit.

Realistically, you knew you'd have to attend the wedding regardless. Your friends meant a lot to you and you wouldn't miss this moment because of your fight with Jolly.

But you wish you had given yourself a little more time to think it over.

You told yourself you could avoid him, that you didn't have to speak to him. But how could you when your people were the same as his people? Would Bryan's fiancée sit you at the same table as them at the party? What would you do then?

Before you could spiral any longer, your phone vibrated beside you on the couch, signaling a new text message. You smiled when you saw it was from Folio.

Drummer Boy: You coming to Bryan's wedding, right?

You started typing your response when another text came through.

Drummer Boy: Jolly's been asking since Bryan started handing out the invitations.

Your smile faded immediately.

You: I'm going, but you can tell him I'm not.

You know it was petty, but you couldn't stand his audacity. Asking about you to his friends like he gave two shits about you being there or not. He probably wanted to know so he could bring his other girl peacefully.

Drummer Boy: I think we need to talk about whatever happened.

You: Do we really?

Drummer Boy: Yes, I want to know why the hell it's been weeks since you came over.

And why you make up an excuse everytime I invite you over.

And that's how you found yourself sitting in a café, trying to explain to Folio your situation with Jolly.

"So, you two have been fucking this whole time?", he asks. You gotta give it to him, he always liked to be plain and simple.

"Yep"

"And you got angry because you caught feeling and he didn't?"

You gave him a pointed look, as if to tell him to watch his words.

"It was not only that. I understand that he never promised me anything. It's just that it all became so cheap overtime", you took a sip from your steaming mug that was warming your hands. "Why did Bryan choose such a cold time of the year to get married? What am I supposed to wear? A fucking puffer jacket?", you observed, getting a little sidetracked.

"I don't know, I'll wear a suit", he shrugged his shoulders. "Don't try to get off-topic"

"Yeah, I mean, we never talked about anything else anymore. He only texted or called when he wanted sex. He stopped sticking around after we did it. He just put his clothed back on and then left"

"That's shitty", he pointed out and you gave him a "no shit, Sherlock" look. "Why do you think he started doing it?"

"Because it was simply transactional to him? Fuck some girl to get your frustrations out and then leave. That way you don't have to pretend like you care"

"I don't think that was it at all", it was his turn to take a sip and you waited for him to keep going. "I think he caught feelings just as bad as you did, but didn't know how to deal with it. So he just ignored it"

"Great. And then I have to feel like a fucking prostitute because a grown ass man can't deal with his feelings?", your voice got a little louder and he waved his hand to tell you to tone it down a bit.

"I'm not saying he's right"

"Because he isn't. If he cared at all he wouldn't show up with some other girl just couple of days after he was in my bed"

"That's why you left the party that day?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, by the way. I know it was your day", you gave him an apologetic look, remembering how you left without even saying goodbye.

"You don't have to apologize. But I do miss having you around the house", he smiled at you, and you had to admit that you also missed being there. But the need to never see Jolly again overpowered anything else.

"I really can't deal with being in the same room as him, Nick", you told him and he could see you were being sincere.

"I just sucks you know, having my two best friends fighting", you didn't miss the way he said "fighting" as if it was a temporary thing. You didn't want to let him down even more with the fact that you don't pretend to make amends with Jolly anytime soon.

"What are you gonna do at the wedding?", he asked and you sighed.

"I really don't know. I'll probably not stick around for the party and just leave after the ceremony"

"You can't do that! We haven't partied together in so long", he had a crestfallen look on his face, and that damned puppy gdog eyes he always gave you when he wanted something from you. "I promised I'll tell him to stay away from you"

"I don't know, Nick. He's not really good at following directions"

"I'll make sure he does this time. What do you say? We'll have so much fun you won't even notice he's there", you pondered on the idea for a second.

"I'll think about it, ok?", he agreed, but with the look on your face, he knew you had agreed already.

You didn't have much time to dwell on things for the next few weeks. Work has been hectic and you've been trying to get your life somewhat together for the end of the year.

Slowly, the pain in your heart and the disappointment started to fade away, and as you put on your heels to get in your Uber and go to the wedding venue, you thought you'd be fine seeing Jolly again, weeks after your fallout.

As you sat in the car, Folio had already texted you, saying he was sitting in the second row, and that he was a saving a spot for you next to him.

Taking a deep breath, you checked your makeup on the screen of your phone, and you smoothed out your dress over your thighs. The dress code was black tie, so you chose a simple, black dress, with a slit on the side, along with black stilettos. You actually gave Folio some sandals that he kept in his motorcycle for you to wear at the party.

Arriving at the venue, you gave your name and made your way inside. When you looked at the altar, your steps faltered a bit and you hoped no one noticed as people moved around you to settle on their seats.

Up there, you saw Bryan dressed in a black suit, along with Noah, Nicholas and Jolly on his side. Nothing could've prepared you for the way he looked.

His hair was pushed back and tied into a bun, and he was dressed in all black like the other guys, and you could only see the tattoos on his knuckles.

As if sensing your presence, he locked his eyes with yours and you saw just a sliver of surprise in them. His stare, and the way his eyes subtly ran up and down your body, set you back into motion.

You kept walking and when you got close enough to the altar, you waved at Bryan, Noah nd Nicholas, giving them a smile and tried to look as excited as you could. You could still feel Jolly's eyes on you, even when you turned to the side and slipped into the seat next to Folio, giving him a hug in greeting.

Looking around the place as it was filling up with people, you tried to spot the girl Jolly arrived at the party with all those days ago, but you found no trace of her. He was here alone. You told yourself this is the last time tonight you would let him and this situation consume your thoughts.

"You look banging", Folio told you, giving you a teasing shove with his elbow.

"You clean yourself up nice. Didn't know you could slick back your hair this much", you teased back.

"I think I used a whole bottle of gel. But it's staying intact the whole night, baby", he patted the top of his head to show you just how stiff it was. You laughed at his antics as you slipped into casual conversation with him.

From the altar, Jolly couldn't take his eyes off of you for even a second. The way you effortlessly looked like the most beautiful girl in the room, and he was sure that not even the bride could steal that spot from you.

He desperately wanted to be in Folio's place right now. Making conversation with you and having you smile at him like that.

Over the course of the weeks, he was sure he was never gonna be able to have that again. And he spent the time torturing himself over how much of a fool he was to let you slide through his fingers like that.

How much of an idiot he was to break your heart like that.

"Can I tell you something?", Noah said, leaning a little closer to him, and looking in the same direction as Jolly. He hummed, telling his friend to go on. "Her legs look so damn good in that dress", Noah said, while whistling lowly next to his friend. Nicholas gave him a warning glance, but understood what Noah was trying to do.

Jolly knew he was just messing with his head, but he couldn't help but clench his fists anyway. When he didn't answer, Noah decided to press his friend's button a little harder.

"You think she'd give me a chance if I shoot my shot tonight?", Noah observed as Jolly's eyes got even darker, and he slowly turned around to face him.

"I heard she doesn't give losers her time of day", Jolly said, rolling his eyes when he saw the teasing look on Noah's face.

"I heard she gave you a chance", Jolly slapped his friend in the chest and Noah smiled even wider. "Besides, Folio told me she's single as a pringle"

"She's not gonna be by the end of the night", Jolly said, turning around and finishing the conversation, but he heard Noah let out a little "uuhhh" sound beside him.

It wasn't long before everyone was seated and the ceremony was about to being.

You wanted to say your head and heart were in it, but you could sense Jolly's eyes on you the whole time. You refrained from looking at him, because you knew that if you did, and he was looking at you like he used to all those months ago before things went cold between the two of you, you'd definetely break. And you pretended to leave this place whole tonight.

Cecilia looked like the most stunning bride you've ever seen. Their vows were beautiful and you could see the love in their eyes, and you could feel the love consuming the whole place.

You teared up a little, but before anyone could see, you grabbed Folio's handkerchief from his pocket to dab at your eyes.

"I spent thirty minutes folding that", he whispered to you and you only told him to pay attention to the ceremony instead of complaining.

When the groom kissed the bride, everyone cheered as Bryan and Cecilia made their way down the aisle, hand in hand and with big smiles on their faces.

The party was going to take place at the same venue, but in a different space, and as people started to fizzle out, you stood up to do the same.

"I saw you shedding some tears from up there", you heard a voice and three people approaching, and soon, Noah, Nicholas and Jolly were beside you and Nick.

"I don't know what you're talking about", you answered, eyes not wavering from the tall man, as he smiled at your deflection.

"We missed you, Y/N", Nicholas said and opened his arms for a hug, which you gladly accepted.

"Me too", you admitted, cheek smushed against his suit jacket.

"I don't know about y'all, but I'm very excited to start drinking", Folio changed the topic of conversation, sensing your discomfort a little, and wanting to keep his promise and have Jolly stay as far away from you as possible.

"Gotta grab my sandals from your bike first", you pointed out, extanding your hand for him to give you his key, and you left the boys to make your way out of the venue and towards the parking lot.

Grabbing your sandals, you leaned against the motorcycle to take off your heels, and you stored them away in the top box. You were about to close it, when your eyes caught sight of something interesting. Reaching for it, you could see it was a blunt neatly rolled up.

Of course Folio would bring a blunt to a wedding.

Smiling in mischief, you grabbed it and put it inside your purse for later. It would be a joy to see the look on Nick's face when you showed him that you stole HIS blunt.

Finally closing the top box, you turned around to make your way to the where the party was being held, when you saw him in the distance. He was standing at the end of the stone pathway as if he was waiting for you.

The was no other path around him and the place was filled with cars, so your only option was to walk past him. Keeping your head down, you quickened your pace when you started to approach him.

"Hey", his soft voice stopped you in your tracks. You desperately wanted to keep moving and just ignore him, but it was like your brain was wired to pay attention to him. "Could we talk?", he asked as if he was approaching a skittish animal.

This time, you did turn to face him.

"Listen, I'm here for Bryan and Cecilia, and that's it. And no, we can't talk. It would be appreciated if you kept your distance, actually", you kept your face stoic and your eyes could freeze hell over from how icy they were.

"I just want five minutes, that's it", his soft spoken tone didn't waver, and if you stopped to observe his face for a few seconds, you would see the pining and and desperation in his eyes. But your resentment clouded your vision.

"You had all the time in the world already"

With this, you turned around and left.

You eyes looked for Nick, and when you spotted him, sitting at his table, you made your way over.

"Doing a hell of a good jog at keeping Jolly away from me, huh?", you confronted him, sitting in the chair beside him.

"I'm sorry! We were talking and next thing I knew, he was gone", he shrugged his shoulders, looking a little guilty about his little slip.

"Whatever. I'll stay for an hour max and then I'll leave", you grabbed the flute of champagne in front of him and took a sip. He opened his mouth to tell you to get your own drink, when you looked at him sideways and he deciced it was best to shut his mouth.

Soon, the dancefloor was full of with people and the music filled the room. Folio was successful in dragging you for a dance a time or two, but you mostly stayed seated, sipping champagne and then switching to water.

From time to time, you could see Jolly sitting at the bar, chatting with some people you didn't know. They were probably Bryan's friends. But you were just glad he listened to you and kept his distance.

One hour turned into two, and when you looked outside, the sky was already dark, the moon shining in the distance. And you remembered the rolled up blunt you took from Nick's motorcycle.

You'd share with him if he wasn't having so much fun dancing ridiculously to some 2000's song with the boys on the dancefloor. So, alone, you open a sliding glass door that led to a spacious balcony overlooking the whole area.

The wedding was not at a remote location, but it was far away enough from the city to be surrounded by tall trees. You opened your purse and took out the still neatly rolled up blunt, balancing your purse on the wooden rail and leaning both of your elbows on it as you lit up the joint.

Taking the first drag, you feel the smoke consuming your lungs, and you hope this one can make you forget things for a minute or two.

From the dancefloor, Folio saw you slip outside, and abandoned the boys in order to approach Jolly, who was still sitting at the bar, this time alone, hands fiddling with the empty whiskey glass on the counter.

"Hey, man", Folio said, sitting in the stool next to him.

"What's up?", Jolly replied, but there was not much excitement in his voice.

"Listen, I just saw Y/N going outside. You should go there and talk to her", Nick said, nudging Jolly in the ribs. He just sighed and shook his head.

"I don't think she wants to talk to me"

"You gotta try though. You gotta tell her everthing you told me", Nick reasoned and Jolly could tell he wasn't gonna let this go that easily.

"I already tried, ok? I didn't even have the chance to approach her properly, but she already told me to stay the fuck away from her", Jolly's voice was agitated now, remembering your previous interaction. "I gotta listen to her if that's what she wants"

"You do whatever you want to do, but I gotta tell you something", Nick got up and leaned a little closer, to make sure his words were loud and clear. "If you don't try to make things right tonight, you might never get another chance. And in a few years, she's gonna be the one getting married. To another guy", Jolly let his friend's word sink in. He knew Nick was telling the truth, and the thought of you being with someone else terrified him. "You're just gonna be watching from the sidelines, because you were too much of a pussy to go after her"

Jolly couldn't look at Nick, but right after he was done, he left Jolly's side to go back to the dancefloor.

Jolly looked outside, but wasn't able to spot you due to everyone mingling about, as he pondered over his friend's words. He knew that Nick was right. He already went weeks without seeing you, and he was already struggling with the fact that he couldn't talk to you, couldn't see you, touch you. He couldn't fathom spending the rest of his life with anyone else but you.

He decided that you couldn't hate him anymore than you already do, so, abandoning his empty cup on the counter, he got up and made his way outside. His mind running a million miles a minute, trying to gather everything he wanted to tell you before you had the chance to tell him to go to hell.

Sliding the door open, he saw you leaning against the balcony railing, puffs of smoke coming out of your mouth, and he smiled at this. You were probably smoking the weed Folio provided you.

"I told you to leave me alone", you said, keeping your voice even. He couldn't help but noticed how you didn't even need to turn around to know it was him who just entered through the doors. At least you were still attuned to him in some sense.

"I'm gonna talk to you", he said and you were taken aback by his affirmation. Turning to around to finally face him, you saw that his face was serious, and he had his arms crossed over his chest.

"Excuse me?", you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"You heard me, I'm gonna talk to you wether you want to listen or not"

You scoffed, putting out the joint and placing it back inside your purse. It would be stinking of weed later, but you couldn't care less at this point.

Closing the distance between the two of you, you stopped just a few steps in front of him.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to listen to whatever it is that you have to say"

You walked past him and towards to sliding glass door with the intention of leaving this party for good now.

"I'm out of my mind in love with you, that's what I am!", he exclaimed, you stopped in your tracks, breath hitching and heart hammering in your ribcage from what you just heard.

You looked at him, but he was already looking at you. You saw the determination in his eyes, and you bet yours were wild in sheer surprise.

"What did you just say?", your voice lost all it's edge, as you almost whispered your question.

"You heard me"

"You don't know what you're talking about"

He couldn't possibly be telling you he loves you right now, intead of all the times you gave him the chance and all he gave you were crumbles of affection. Sometimes not even that.

"I know damn well what I'm talking about. In fact, I've been in love with you since the moment Folio introduced you to the band"

"Jolly, that was years ago", your head was spinning right now, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I know, and I should've told you sooner instead of doing whatever it is that I was doing", you could tell he was letting his guard down, so you decided to do the same for the sake of this conversation.

"And why are you telling me this right now?"

"Because I was an idiot with you, and I need you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel used, or make you feel like you were just someone I called for a quick fuck", he took one step closer, and you let him.

"Then why did you? I felt like you were miles away from me even when we were touching skin to skin. It felt like you were somewhere else all the time. And all those times you just left me there?", your brows were furrowed in confusion and your eyes were starting to fill with tears, as you remembered how you felt after each time he left you alone in bed.

"That night, do you remember when you told me I knew you were emotionally attached to you?", he asked and you nodded your head yes. "That's true, I knew. And I thought that distancing myself from you would make you feel less for me"

"Why would you want that?"

"Because you don't deserve someone like me. And I think this conversation we're having right now just proves that"

"You don't get to tell me what I do and what I don't deserve", your face twisted in anger at what he just told you.

"I know I don't, buy you can't possibly think I would be a good boyfriend to you. I'm gone all the time, for months on end, and I would never ask you to leave your things behind to go on tour with me. Why would you date someone who's gonna leave you for 3 or 4 months at a time?", he tried to get his point across, because in his head, it made complete sense.

"It would all be worth it because I would be yours and you would be mine, and I wouldn't be left wondering if you care about me or not. Besides, you should've just told me that's how you felt instead of stringing me along like you did", you raised your voice, pointing at him while you spoke, and when you finished, silence fell over the both of you.

Jolly felt like he was losing this battle and losing you along with it.

"I'm sorry. About everything. I know you don't want to see my face, but please, don't stop interacting with the boys. They absolutely adore you, and it makes me feel shitty that you can't be around them because of me", he looked at you with sincerity in his eyes and you could see he felt guilty about everything.

"Why did you still call me? If you wanted to push me away, why did you still call me?"

You still had questions, and you wanted answers to them.

"Because I can't be away from you. I know I sound like a selfish asshole, but I literally couldn't be away from you. It was better having some of you, rather than none of you"

You shook your head. What a stupid boy, probably the stupidest boy you've ever met.

"You had me. You had all of me. And you should've just told me"

"I know. I'm sorry"

You could see his eyes gleaming with unshed tears. Your own were the same.

"Damn it, Jolly. You should've just fucking told me"

"I know I'm too late. But I'm really hoping you can find it in your heart to maybe consider me as a friend"

You pondered over his words for a second. You could, you could tell him you would try to be civil, so you don't have to stay away from your friends. But the truth is, you know you could never have him as friend.

"I can't"

Jolly felt ice in his veins as soon as the words left your lips. He was too late, he was too much of an idiot and now he was paying the price. He should've never taken Nick's advide and come talk to you.

"I can't have you as a friend thinking that I could've had you as so much more. I can't have you as a friend, because one day, when you get a girlfriend, I'm gonna be thinking that it should've been me instead of her"

You let the tears fall freely now. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance and facing you. He hesitated for a second, before he gently rested both hands on your face, lightly wiping away the tears falling down your cheeks, as if you were a wounded animal.

"I don't want to have anyone else but you. I don't imagine living my life with anyone else but you", he whispered the words between you.

You put your hands over his, caressing it and reveling in the feeling of his skin on yours after what felt like an eternity.

"Me neither", you confessed, tired of pretending you're not longing for him as much as he is longing for you.

"Then let me try again? I swear I'll do things right this time if you let me", he rested his forehead on yours and you both closed your eyes.

"Do you really love me?", you asked in a whisper, as if afraid of the answer.

"I've never loved anyone as much as I love you, my angel"

You weren't looking in his eyes, but you felt in your bones the emotion and sincerity in his voice. You could also feel the love pouring out of him with every word he spoke.

"Then let's try again", you opened your eyes to see his reaction, and his were already looking back at you.

A smile graced his lips, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Really?", he asked, a little in disbelief.

"Turns out I also can't be away from you", you shrugged your shoulders and you saw the light returning to his eyes.

"Can I hug you? I really wanna hug you. And I also really wanna kiss you right now".

You didn't answer him, instead, you placed one hand on the back of his neck, and closed the already small distance between you two, your lips finding his in what started as a chaste kiss, but deepened when he started to move his mouth against yours.

You could feel fireworks erupting in your belly. You thought you'd never get to have him like this again, so you savored the taste of him on your lips, the feeling of his skin under your hands, and the heat radiating from his body onto yours. You were sure he was gonna set you on fire.

Once you parted, his hands went from your face to your hips, not letting you stray away from him. And you took advantage of the situation to run the palm of your hand over his hair, that was still tied, but a few wisps stuck out here and there, and you smoothed them down with your hands.

"I'm gonna take you on a date this time. I'll do everything right.", he promised you, and you felt yourself excited for what's to come for the two of you.

"We'll do everything right"

[darksigns-exe]

gentle impulsion - jolly karlsson x f!reader

word count: 597

warnings: swearing, fingering (f receiving)

note: for @blackveilomens <3

You and Jolly have been dancing around each other since you’d joined up with the band to help Bryan with social media content. There has been a lot of less than subtle flirting and by the end of your third week on tour with them, you’re starting to get restless. Sure, this could just be a fun bit of flirting to pass the time. But recently the energy between you had taken a different turn. You feel his hands on your body more and more often. Even if it’s just to push past you on the bus. 

With today being a rare day off, you not only get to sleep in a real bed, but you also get to sleep in a little. Being the only woman on the tour meant that you usually get your own room, on this stop, however you ended up sharing with Jolly. There’d been an issue with one of the rooms, and you had immediately offered half of your bed to him. 

Thankfully, Jolly seems to have the same plans as you for the day, as he’s still fast asleep when you wake up. The only problem being that his arm his wrapped around your middle with his hand spread out against your tummy. You try not to think about it, or how warm it makes you feel. You can’t deny how it makes you feel, though. 

His hand shifts against your belly, pulling you closer against him. 

A moment later, he stiffens up, seemingly realising that you’re in a somewhat unexpected position. He doesn’t move, though. 

“Jolly?” you ask quietly. 

He hums, indicating that he has heard you. 

His hand moves towards your waist, shifting you a little closer to him. Your breath catches in your throat, when you feel him hard against your backside. 

“Is this okay?” you feel his breath against the skin of your neck. 

You nod, hoping that it’s enough for him. 

Jolly seems to be satisfied with your answer, as you feel his hand drifting lower on your body. It dips behind the waist band of your shorts. You hold your breath when his fingers brush against you. The slow circles he draws against your clit pull soft sighs from you. His hard cock presses against your ass, and you can’t stop yourself from grinding back against him. 

“Does that feel good?” he asks softly, “Talk to me, darling.” 

You have to force the yes past your lips. 

His fingers drift lower, barely dipping into your entrance. Jolly lets out a groan when the tip of his finger comes into contact with you. 

“You’re soaked.” he sighs, “Think you can come on my fingers?”

You give an almost frantic nod in response. 

His touch is so intense already. It’s slow, indulgent, and you wonder if you can ever go without it again. His lips press against your bare shoulder, teeth grazing against your skin. Once in a while, you can feel him grinding against your backside, but your pleasure seems to be at the forefront of his mind. And when it finally hits you, you let yourself rest against him. Pleasure unravels you piece by piece in a way that you haven’t felt before. There are no wails or screams of pleasure, just the warmth that slowly spreads through your body as you ride your high out against his hand. 

You rest against him like this for a while, both of your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. 

And when you turn around to face him, he looks almost awestruck.

“Can I kiss you?”

[sitkowski]

after love in the after hours ( jolly karlsson x reader )

pairing: jolly karlsson x reader

cw: none, full of softness here.

word count: 710

author's note: after this work week, and seeing the new pics, i needed some soft self indulgent stuff in my life. title comes from the you me at six song. divider by @saradika-graphics.

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups

The week has been hell and your internal battery is just about tapped. You’ve probably never ran out the door so fast after work, just glad to be done finally. And if you sit in your car in the parking lot and just stare into space while trying to decompress and make yourself feel more human again, that’s no one’s business but yours. If you didn’t think someone would hear you, you’d probably scream. You’re tempted to do it anyway, but then your phone pings in the passenger seat. When you pick it up, you can’t help but smile just a little. The text from Jolly is probably exactly what you need right now.

The two of you have been seeing each other for a few months. It’s been great, he’s been great. And when you see that he’s asking if you want to stop by because they’re done for the day, you don’t even think to say no even though it’s been a rough one for you. It’s not selfish to want to spend as much time with him as you can, because you know at some point again his free time will be less and less. Besides, now that he’s asked you can’t think of anything that will make you feel better like spending the evening hanging out with him will.

Apparently, he’s the last one there when you arrive and he told you when you agreed to stop by that you could just let yourself in. You find him in the back room where they’ve been recording. He's scrolling through his phone, cocooned in an enormous bean bag chair, but the second he sees you coming in, his face lights up.

“Hey sweet, how was your day?” 

The question is enough to bring frustrated tears to your eyes and Jolly immediately sets aside his phone and frowns, sitting up and reaching for you. You go willingly, letting him pull you down onto the chair with him. He arranges you across his chest, wrapping his arms around you and you let out a long sigh as all of the tension you’ve been holding on to this week starts to ease out of your body. Jolly doesn’t say anything at first, patient as ever. Your tears subside the more relaxed you get, and eventually he reaches down to tip your face up so you can look at him.

“This week sucked,” you say, and he can tell you don’t really want to elaborate because it’s just going to work you back up. “But this is exactly what I needed right now.”

Jolly presses a kiss to your forehead, the bridge of your nose and eventually, your lips, pecking you with soft little kisses until you finally smile. He reclines further back on the chair and you let him distract you with what they’ve been working on. Listening to him talk has always been a source of calm for you since the two of you met. One of his hands traces up and down your back and eventually, you’ve completely forgotten about the horrible week. You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay there like that before you fall asleep against his chest.

He wakes you up an undetermined time later and offers to drive you home. You agree and when he passes you his hoodie to wear, you smile again because he knows you love stealing them from him. Tugging it on, you can’t help but wrap your arms around yourself and feel instantly comforted by it. And when you ask him to stay because you know you’ll sleep better with him there, he follows you inside after telling you he’s got no other place he’d rather be.

You go through your entire night time routine, still feeling tired, but then Jolly emerges from your kitchen with a plate and you realize that he’s made you a grilled cheese sandwich while you were in the bathroom. This time the tears are happy ones and you didn’t even realize how hungry you were until he brought that to you along with a big bottle of water. He leads you to the sofa, finds a show for the two of you to watch, and you curl up beside him.

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae

@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses

@thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

@kait16xo @lacy1986

@malice-ov-mercy @itsjustforce @darksigns-exe @baddestomens

@collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @fadingangelwisp

@wonh0z @xxrainstorm @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @concretejunglefm

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

[xmads-omensx]

Part 1

Word Count: 2,044

Pairing: Footballer!Noah Sebastian X Reader

CW: footballer au, swearing

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @bloody-spades @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @heyyoplayer @dsireland86 @missduffsblog @overmydeadbodysblog @dominuslunae @littlebear423 @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch @concretejunglefm @museonfilm @death-ofpeace-ofmind @xxkatsatwatawafflexx @kissestomyomens @flowery-mess

Stretching out, my hands brushed against the soft white bedding that had cocooned me all night.

My curtains weren’t closed all the way so a singular stream of moonlight poured into my bedroom, offering some semblance of light to the dark space.

The stars were beautiful at this time of the morning.

Having to get up so early was definitely a negative when it came to my job. But it was worth it for the company alone since my co-workers had become my closest friends and working with the team was a complete dream.

I stretched once again, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of my bed. I got up, slipped on my slippers and grabbed my pale blue dressing gown before heading downstairs to start my day.

Making my coffee, I loaded up my laptop and logged into my work email, checking our itinerary for the day. It was an exciting day ahead. It always was when a new player signed for the club. Our day was stacked with photoshoots and interviews along with a tour of the stadium and training ground, which all had to be documented by myself and my colleagues.

I did my skincare then my makeup before pulling my hair into a ponytail and getting dressed. My work uniform was a relatively boring black tracksuit with the club’s logo on each item and ‘staff’ written across the back of my jacket and shirt, but it did the job well enough.

The sun was still rising as I navigated my way from my house to the stadium for work; pink and orange hues covered the sky, as the birds cut through it, singing their morning songs with all their strength. It was a beautiful thing to hear on my way to work. In fact, I often found myself lowering the volume of my music, or even turning if off completely, just to be able to hear them sing.

I pulled into the stadium staff car park earlier than I would have liked.

The car park was relatively empty, with only two or three other cars parked nearby. I identified one as Eddie’s car, which meant that he was probably in his office getting the final preparations ready for the new player’s arrival.

Whenever a new player signed for the club, there was always a buzz about the city. Their photo was plastered on buses, shop windows, scarves, flags and not forgetting all over the stadium.

His face was positioned on large posters at the staff and player entrance alongside the rest of the team, officially identifying him as one of them. His main photoshoots were yet to take place, but that did not stop the city from proudly display his striking features.

I walked through the staff and player entrance and towards the small office that I shared with my co-workers.

My desk was the closest to the door, with small trinkets set up to remind me of some of my favourite memories at the club. Each season, the players bought me a new one to add to my collection. Every single item had a story and a connection to someone who had been important in my life at some stage or another.

Last season, Alex Isak had presented me with a small pin from his home back in Sweden that he had bought whilst visiting family. Karlsson had done the same, except his was probably my favourite of the two, but I would never tell Alex that. It was a small elf holding a Swedish flag, intended to represent his name, Jolly, along with his homeland. It made me smile whenever I looked at it.

Before I could even take a seat, there was a knock on the office door.

Stood in the doorway was the club manager, Eddie, looking relatively calm with a mix of stress as he usually did.

“So we have the new sign coming in about thirty minutes, is that enough time for you, Alana and Bryan to set up?” He asked in a calm tone.

“Yeah that should be enough time. Are we doing the tours before or after the contract?” I asked.

“After. Just because Ruffilo will be in physio in about an hour so we don’t want to intrude.” He explained.

“What’s up with Ruffilo?” I asked, concerned.

“Just that old knee injury acting up again. Nothing serious, he’s just complaining about some discomfort.” Eddie assured.

I always worried about the players when they were injured, especially those that had been signed here for a while, like Karlsson and Ruffilo.

“When the other two are here, we’ll head down to the conference room and set up.” I said, gesturing to Alana and Byran’s desks.

Eddie simply nodded with a smile before heading back to his own office, offering a “hello” and a “good morning” to Bryan as he passed by on his way to our office.

“Morning Y/N.” Bryan yawned as he walked in, large coffee in hand.

“Morning yourself. Rough night?” I asked.

“You can say that again. I was up until like two in the morning making sure that we could get all of our equipment over to Australia for pre-season.” He complained, yawning once again.

I had to laugh at that, since the club had already ensured that we would have all of the equipment that we would need. Bryan, however, hated the prospect that we might arrive there with nothing but our phone cameras. He liked to be one thousand percent sure of every last detail pertaining to our job.

“Hey, don’t laugh dumbass. Who forgot her gear last pre-season?” Bryan mocked, referencing my lack of planning skills or packing skills.

“Not my fault.” I defended. “That was all Ryan.”

“Ugh I hated him.” Bryan moaned.

“Hey, I was the one stuck with him!” I laughed.

Ryan was my ex-boyfriend who had a nasty habit of not fully supporting my career. The prospect of pre-season was something that he had hated from the moment we started dating, since I would be away in a different country for a long period of time.

It was a valid outlook to his credit, but his decision to start arguments with me immediately before I had to leave for the airport was not one that I could get behind.

Bryan’s excitement for the day ahead was palpable, despite the exhaustion written across his features. He always got excited by the prospect of new signings. “New people to torment” he would say every transfer window with glee on his features.

Alana was much the same in that regard. She loved meeting new people and working with new signings was the perfect opportunity to do so.

When she arrived that day, she was fresh-faced as usual. Her skin glowing as she sipped her water bottle.

“Jeez Bry, rough night?” She asked with a laugh, making Bryan scoff and roll his eyes as he clicked away on his computer.

“I do not want to hear about your amazing romantic holiday, but I am positive that it was lovely.” He said, not even looking up. Alana had spent hours showing Bryan and I photos and videos from the holiday that her boyfriend, Josh, had taken her on for their anniversary the last time that we hung out. It was beautiful and part of me was even jealous that I never got something like that.

“As if I was going to show you anymore.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully.

The dynamic between the three of us was very much that of siblings. It was nice being able to have such playful banter at work.

“Since you’re both here, maybe we should go set up?” I suggested, gesturing to the door and picking up my camera.

“Sounds good.” Bryan replied, picking up his own camera and heading out the door, leading the way to the conference room.

The corridors were empty this early in the morning, which felt ever so slightly unsettling as our footsteps echoed through the halls. The rest of the media team would already be there setting up the audio equipment and the lighting equipment.

Journalists were beginning to fill the hallways the closer that we got, as they anxiously awaited the press-conference that was to follow the contract-signing. I kept my eyes peeled for the new singing or any of his family that he might have brought along, so that I could capture some photos of them to keep just for them. However, I didn’t see anyone.

Noah stood alone in the centre of the room with members of staff rushing around him, making sure that he had everything that he needed.

He looked handsome in the kit they had him put on for the photos. The black and white stripes making his tattoos pop. His hair was short, cut just below his ears. It looked fluffy and it took all of my willpower not to walk right up to him and card my hair through what appeared to be soft, feathery locks.

He was a lot taller than I had anticipated. Granted I had worked with taller players in the likes of Dan Burn, our resident giant standing at six foot seven, but for some reason Noah appeared much taller. His shoulders were broad, the expanse of his back appeared to be made out of pure muscle, in fact, his entire being seemed to be made out of pure muscle.

His strong body was offset by his soft features. Noah’s eyes were a soft, deep brown that sucked you in like a black hole. They seemed sad. Like they had seen enough to last several lifetimes over. The lights of the conference room reflected off of his eyes, creating the illusion of constellations within them. In that moment, I would have given anything to stare into the abyss of his eyes forever.

Transfer day was always somewhat awkward for everyone involved. Small talk had to be kept to a minimum in order to make the day run smoothly, so it wasn’t until media day and testing day that we would get to interact with him. Noah looked mildly panicked as he sat behind the conference desk, waiting for the cameras to begin filming; as if he were a student waiting to be told off by his teacher for misbehaving.

“He looks nervous.” Alana commented, nodding at Noah who was now fidgeting with the pen laid out on the desk on top of the contract that he was set to sign, with his long, spindly fingers. How on earth had I not noticed his fingers earlier?

“I heard he’s never even heard of the club before, or even been to the UK.” Bryan offered, lifting up his camera and snapping a couple of photos of Noah, who blinked in discomfort at the flash.

I always felt bad for the new players joining the club. Especially ones with similar situations to Noah. Being in a new club was never easy. Especially with the additional fact that there was an increased pressure coming to a club like this where the team was so close-knit and so close to history-making success as well as the fact that Noah had seemingly never heard of the club before or played for a Premier League team… things weren’t exactly adding up in his favour.

He did have the crowd behind him though. Since the rumours surrounding his transfer began, Noah had the crowd in a chokehold. With his face more or less plastered across the city, it was hard to miss the excitement of the American prodigy left-back’s arrival at the club. You could feel the buzz in the very bones of the city itself. His brilliance and skill on the pitch offered a sense of hope to the club’s loyal fans as the new season approached. Redemption was now within reach; for Noah and the club.

“Noah.” Bryan called out to him. “Do you mind just smiling for the camera?”

Noah nodded shyly before smiling. In that moment, something in my brain clicked into place. He was beautiful, but pained at the same time. There was something much deeper, and much darker, lurking beneath that stunning smile, and I was determined to find out what.

[circle-with-me]

the way you bend, the way you break

Pairing: Joakim Jolly Karlsson x OFC (Violet)

Content Warning/Tags: ⚠️18+MDNI!! daddy!jolly, mild degradation, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, squirting, use of restraints, overstimulation, light choking, praise kink if you squint. Some fluffy af aftercare. Seriously, Jolly is the king of aftercare.

Word Count: 4.4k

Tag list: @concretenoah @deathblacksmoke @ladyveronikawrites @malice-ov-mercy @sitkowski @nerdraging4point0 @tearfallpixie @foliosriot @collective-heartbreak @cookiesupplier @cind6547 @meekahy @lacktoesandtoddlerants @jilliemiw86 @sammyjoeee @blackveilomens @thisbicc

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The doorbell rings and Jolly looks up from his book confused. He wasn’t expecting any visitors today. He sits the book on the coffee table and pads to the front door peeking out the small window beside it. A short, raven-haired woman stands outside with her arms folded against her chest bouncing on the balls of her feet. Jolly smiles as he unlocks the door and opens it.

“If it isn’t my favorite flower.” He announces, grinning at his guest.

Violet rolls her eyes. “This flower is fucking freezing, are you going to let me in, or not?”

Jolly laughs and steps aside, allowing his friend to enter his home. Violet takes her jacket off and hangs it up by the door. She slips her shoes off and walks straight into the kitchen, leaving Jolly behind her.

When he makes it to the kitchen, she’s already rummaging through his refrigerator. He hears a bottle clinking and she pulls out two beers. Popping off the tops she hops up onto the counter and takes a drink, sighing.

It wasn’t uncommon for Violet to show up like this. They’d been friends for a few years now and spent many nights together drinking and eating junk food on his couch. They had consoled each other during breakups and life problems in general. Unannounced visits were not uncommon.

However, he knew something was wrong immediately.

Maybe it’s the way she chews on her bottom lip. Or how she fidgets while she rambles on about how horrible traffic was on the way to his house. The small talk was an indicator in itself something was wrong, but then he notices she’s barely opened her beer and she’s already peeling the label off it.

“What’s wrong, Vi?” Jolly interrupts her.

Violet whips her head over to look at him. She looks down at the beer bottle in her hand, resuming her task of destroying the label and shakes her head.

“Nothing. Why do you ask?”

He leans back against the counter across from her and crosses his arms.

“Because you’ve been here for five minutes and you’ve nearly chewed your lip off. Not to mention you think I give a shit about traffic?” Jolly raises his eyebrows at her in amusement and she huffs a laugh.

“Also, that poor beer bottle. Give it a break, won’t you?”

Violet groans and sets the beer bottle beside her. “You know, it’s really fucking annoying having you as a friend sometimes. You’re so observant.”

Jolly chuckles. “Tell me, my flower. What is it?”

“I have a favor to ask you… but it’s a big favor. I mean, a huge favor.”

“Go on.” Jolly says, taking a swig of his beer.

Violet sighs, straightening her posture.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Jolly chokes on his beer, coughing and nearly spitting it everywhere. He wipes his mouth off and looks up at her. He searches her face for a sign she’s joking. This is a prank, right? She’s just messing with him.

What he sees instead is a look of pure sincerity with a hint of embarrassment and shame. He realizes that she is, in fact, not joking and she was rambling because she was nervous to ask him. It occurs to him that he just made things infinitely worse with his reaction and he decides he needs to do damage control.

“Sorry, went down the wrong way.” He clears his throat. “Um.” Jolly closes his eyes to process her request, trying to ignore how his cock was already twitching at the thought. He flounders for a second longer and finally gathers himself.

“I am completely flattered. Believe me, but.. you could literally go out and pick any man you want. Why me?”

“God, trust me, I’ve tried.” Violet says, rolling her eyes. Jolly ignores the feeling of jealousy that starts to creep up inside of him. “I’m just not.. getting what I need, Jolly. Do you know what I’m saying?”

Jolly definitely can’t ignore the twitching in his pants this time. He swallows and nods because that’s all he can manage at the moment. His best friend is telling him that she thinks he can fuck her better than all of the other guys that she’s been with. The thought has his head swimming and he struggles to not grab her and fuck her on his kitchen counter.

“And you think I can?” He says, a little higher pitched than he intended.

“I know you can. Remember that night we got really drunk and started talking about our kinks? You told me how you loved taking control, giving your partners multiple orgasms..” She pauses, her cheeks flushing. “Degrading them a little, if that’s what they want.”

“Is that what you want?”

Violet nods, chewing on her lip. “Yes. Very much so.”

“Are you sure about this, Vi?” Jolly questions, stepping closer to his friend. He towers over her even as she sits perched on his kitchen counter. Their size difference has never crossed his mind before but suddenly it is all he can think about.

“Please, Jolls.” Violet begs as she scoots closer to the edge of the counter. She opens her legs for him and he steps in between them. “I need this more than anything and if I can’t trust you then who can I trust?”

Jolly begins to speak but is cut off by her warm hand running up his chest. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his hands gripping the counters on either side of her legs. When he opens his eyes, her bright green ones stare back at him and he folds.

“You can always trust me.” He breathes, eyes flickering to her lips. She leans in to kiss him but he pulls back slightly. “Just know that once we start this…” He pauses briefly and places his hand around her jaw, squeezing. “I won’t stop until you’re fucked so dumb you can’t even speak.”

Violet’s breath hitches. Jolly feels her thighs squeeze against his and he smirks. “I’m ready..” She breathes and he lets her pull him in by his shirt, their lips ghosting over each other. “Please don’t make me beg you again.”

Their lips meet as he grabs the back of her head, closing the distance between them. A sharp pain shoots through Jolly’s lip as she bites into him, a metallic taste following. He growls and jerks her closer to him, their hips slotting together.

He meets Violet’s movements as she grinds on him. The way she clings to him and pants so heavily into his mouth makes Jolly realize she was serious — she did need this. He scoops her up and carries her to his bedroom.

They leave a trail of clothes on their way down the hall. By the time he gets her on his bed he’s swirling his tongue around her nipple and working her leggings off with one hand as he cups her other breast with his free one.

“Before we get started,” Jolly begins, his own gasp cuts him off as Violet pushes her hand into his sweats and wraps her hand around his cock. “I want to—god, hang on..” Jolly reluctantly pries her hand off of him and sits back on his heels. She raises up on her elbows, a confused look on her face.

“Are you having second thoughts?” She questions.

Jolly’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, God no.” He watches her as she relaxes. “I just want to make sure you understand the traffic light system. I don’t want there to be any confusion or..”

Violet raises up and puts a finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Green means keep going. Yellow means slow down. Red means something’s wrong and we need to stop. Right?”

Jolly nods and she smiles at him.

“Perfect. Now…” She palms his hardened erection through his sweats. “I believe you promised to fuck me dumb. Or are we going to sit here and chat all night?”

Jolly chuckles humorlessly, and cups her face in his hand, rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb.

“Watch it, my flower.” He presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Or I’ll fuck that pretty mouth of yours and leave you to fend for yourself.”

“I-I’m sorry. P-please don’t.” Violet shudders against his lips. Jolly kisses her deeply, licking into her mouth and enjoying the taste of her. He runs his large hands up her thighs and she keens. In one quick motion he grabs both thighs and yanks her down so that she’s lying flat on her back. Violet yelps, clasping a hand over her mouth.

Jolly gets off the bed, walking across the room to search through his drawers. He pulls out a red silk tie and wraps it around his hand as he walks back to the bed. He grabs Violet's hands and wraps the tie around them, raising her arms and securing them to the headboard above her.

He makes sure it’s tight enough to keep her secure but not so tight it’ll cut into her skin and then crawls on top of her.

“I wasn’t planning on tying you up but you decided to get mouthy. Be good for me and I’ll untie you, okay?”

Violet makes a noise in agreement but that doesn’t satisfy him.

“I need your words, baby.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” He pats her leg, removing her panties and discarding them off to the side. Crossing this boundary with his best friend wasn’t ever in his plans, but Jolly would be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t thought about this moment before. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was seeing though.

Jolly licks his lips, the sight of her wet pussy making his mouth water. He sticks his thumb in his mouth to wet it and presses it gently against her clit, rubbing softly. Violet moans, arching off the bed. She really was touch starved. If the slightest touch gave her that reaction, he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

He applies more pressure and picks up his pace, captivated by the way her pussy clenches around nothing. He lies down between her legs and lays his head on her thigh, placing kisses on her soft skin and watching her writhe under his touch.

As Jolly watches her become wetter by the second, he decides he can’t wait any longer. He replaces his thumb with his tongue and moans into her the second he tastes her. Violet bucks her hips into his mouth and he grabs ahold of them to steady her.

“Need to get you ready for me.” He says, sucking her clit into his mouth. They make eye contact as she looks down at him and he presses a single finger inside of her. Once again, she bucks her hips in response and he places his free arm on top of her waist to hold her down.

Jolly notices how tight she squeezes him and he groans loudly, his cock aching in his pants. He ruts into the bed for some relief. He pumps his finger into her, focusing on the spongy spot inside of her. Once she gives him the okay he inserts a second.

Violet’s breaths pick up and Jolly can tell she’s about to cum. She begs him so beautifully to let her move some so he obliges, letting her grind on his face until she orgasms. Jolly keeps greedily enjoying his meal until she’s begging again, this time it’s for him to stop because she’s so sensitive.

Jolly sits up and wipes his mouth off, licking his fingers clean. Violet watches him as he does this, whimpering softly. She looks down at the bulge in his sweats, noticing the small wet spot that has formed. She licks her lips and pulls at her restraints.

Jolly looks down and smirks, laughing softly.

“You want it, baby?”

“God, yes. Please.” Violet whines and nods quickly.

He stands up off the bed and shoves his sweats and boxers down, his cock springing free. Violet’s eyes go wide as she sees his size, and she licks her lips again. Jolly crawls back onto the bed and in between her legs. He kisses her stomach and up to her chest.

Jolly hooks his arm under her knee and pushes her leg up. He uses his other hand to stroke his cock and places it at her entrance.

“Tell me you want it.” He says, ghosting his lips over hers. “Tell me you want my cock.”

“I want your cock.” Violet mewls chasing after his lips. He pushes the tip in and she gasps, the stretch already overwhelming her.

“Say it again”

“I- mmm… I..” She stumbles over her words. Jolly pulls out of her, and she nearly cries.

“I said, say it again.” He says through gritted teeth.

“Fuck, fuck, I want your cock, please!” She cries out moving her hips to try to push herself onto him. Jolly presses inside of her again, bottoming out. Violet throws her head back and he bites down on her neck.

Jolly doesn’t give her much time to adjust before he begins pounding into her relentlessly. She feels so wet and warm around him that it almost makes him dizzy. He dips his head down, licking and biting on her nipples. He wanted to hear every sound she possibly could make.

“Jolly, I— oh my god..” Violet moans. Tears were beginning to roll down her face, causing her mascara to run. Her hair was a tangled mess and her lipstick was smeared. Jolly admires the complete mess she’s become and the fact that he made her that way pushes him over the edge.

Jolly grabs her by the throat and pushes her back into the mattress. Using his torso, he forces her legs back into her chest further pounding deeper into her. Violet cries out using what little oxygen Jolly was allowing her to have.

“You call me daddy when I’m fucking your cunt like this.” Jolly grunts. The only response she can offer him is a nod. He relaxes his grip on her throat but he keeps her in place.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Jolly laughs mockingly. “Fucked dumb already?” He says, accentuating each word as he snaps his hips into her.

“Daddy…” Violet writhes beneath him, her hands pulling at her restraints. Jolly raises his eyes and sees her hands twist violently begging to be released.

“Tell me, my flower.” He gently squeezes her neck. “What is it?”

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum.” She whines.

Jolly slides the hand around her throat up to her jaw, gripping it tightly forcing her to look at him. He pounds into her harder, groaning loudly as he feels her clench around him. It’s clear the feeling becomes too intense for her as she attempts to close her eyes and lay her head back but he snaps it back to him.

“Look at me when I’m making you cum. I want to see what I do to you.”

Violet sobs as her orgasm washes over her. Jolly watches in awe as she convulses underneath him. Her gorgeous face twisting in pleasure, breasts bouncing with each thrust. The sound of her calling out for him was like a siren song. Jolly was hooked instantly.

Her body goes limp beneath him as her climax comes to an end. Relaxing the hand around her jaw, he rubs the spot he had been gripping to soothe it. He grazes his teeth against the skin but feels her arm shaking violently next to him.

Jolly unties Violet’s bound wrists from the bed and allows her to relax her arms. She places them around his neck and pushes her hands into his hair. He envelops her face with his hands and wipes the mascara from her eyes and cheeks with his thumbs. Jolly kisses her face softly and she hums.

“Color?”

“Green” Violet laughs, shuddering as the aftershocks of her orgasm continue to hit her. “So fucking green.”

Jolly laughs in response, removing her arms from around his neck. Violet pouts as he pulls out of her. He laughs again and pats her leg gently.

Jolly flips Violet over on her stomach, admiring how her pussy and thighs were still twitching and shaking from her orgasm. His hands roam up the sides of her stomach and her arms. His journey ends at the juncture of her neck and shoulders where he leaves playful bites.

“I’m gonna leave your wrists bound.” He says sucking a spot into her neck. “You’ve been good for me, so I won’t tie you back to the headboard.” He licks the shell of her ear. “If you act up I’ll tie you up so tight the only movement you’ll be making is from me fucking into you.”

He grabs the flesh of her ass, rubbing and kneading. Using two fingers he spreads her slit and slowly pushes into her. He rocks his hips into her slowly, pulling out almost completely and sliding back in.

Violet mewls, pushing back into him desperately. Jolly slaps her ass and tuts at her.

“What did I just say?”

“I need to be good for you, but...” Violet whines, trying desperately to stay still. “I need to feel you. Your cock feels so good inside me, daddy.” Jolly feels her repeatedly clench and release around him. Jolly is grateful that she isn’t facing him as she clenches him so tight his eyes roll back into his head.

Jolly grips the headboard in front of them to steady himself and regain control over the situation. He grabs her hips and pulls her up to him. His large hand tangles in her hair and pushes her face into the mattress.

He grinds into her so deep and slowly it’s enough to drive him insane, but Violet said she wanted to feel him. Jolly was going to make sure she felt every inch of him.

Violet cries and tries to move against him to create more friction but Jolly’s hands hold her in place. He bends over her so that his chest is flush against her back. Jolly ruts into her so hard he can feel her gasps for air underneath him. He nuzzles the side of her face, licking the salt of her tears away.

“Can you feel me now, baby?”

Gasps and choked “oh fucks” are all Jolly hears. He smirks to himself in satisfaction and snakes his hand around her waist. Violet jolts forward as soon as he circles her clit, but with his grip on her hair she doesn’t get far.

“Mmm.” Jolly hums into her ear, his fingers moving faster. “So sensitive. You better cum quick, baby. Daddy doesn’t think he can last much longer.”

Violet mewls, her entire body going rigid. Jolly’s groans echo through the room as she clenches him so tight and he knows she’s close. He continues rutting into her, his fingers matching his pace.

“That’s it. Give it to me, baby. Fuck. I can feel it.”

As her third orgasm hits, she grabs onto the headboard scratching and clawing at the wood. Jolly snaps his hips into her, finally giving them both the friction they so desperately needed. Suddenly, she wails and arches into him, drenching his cock and the bed as she cums.

“Jävlar!” Jolly exclaims, looking down at his thighs that were now coated. “Så vått!" He pulls out to hunch over behind her, licking up her slit and collecting the juices. Violet shakes violently as he cleans her up and he grips both of her thighs tight to keep her steady.

Jolly devours her pussy like a man starved. “You taste even better when you’ve cum, Käraste.” He moans into her. He dives his tongue as deep into her as he can, trying to collect every drop. Violet pushes back into his face and seizes again, another orgasm hitting her.

Jolly grabs her by the hips and pulls her to him, pressing inside her again. She moans softly and he runs his hand along her back. He slowly pumps inside her and she whines, wriggling in his grasp.

“Shh, baby, I know you’re sore.” He coos. He reaches up and unties her wrists. She instantly reaches behind her and threads her fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss him hard.

“Hmm.. What’s your color?” Jolly asks between kisses.

“G-green.” She stammers, out of breath.

“Good girl.” Jolly looks down and watches as she takes him. “You’ve been so good to me. Letting me use you like this.” He grabs her waist, drawing her back into him harder. “Your sweet pussy takes me so well.”

Violet whimpers at his praise, using the strength she has left in her legs to fuck herself onto him. Jolly was so mesmerized by the way her body moved against his, he didn’t even care about control anymore. He throws his head back and lets her take over. It doesn’t take long before his stomach tightens and the familiar pressure starts to build.

“Fuck, Vi…Where do you want me?”

“I-I.. mmm...” She responds. “Want to taste you.”

As soon as the words hit Jolly’s ears, his skin buzzes and what little amount of composure he has left in him dissipates. Her responding whine as he pulls out of her nearly ruins her request. Jolly pulls her up by her hair and turns her around to face him.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, Käraste.” Jolly places his cock on her open lips. “Good girls get what they want.”

Violet opens her mouth completely and sticks out her tongue. He rubs the tip of his cock on it, smearing the pre-cum leaking out. Jolly grabs the back of her head and holds onto her jaw as he slowly fucks her mouth.

From above, he observes her— her mouth full of his cock and her bright eyes staring back at him. He thrusts deeper into her throat and she gags a little, spit pooling at the corners of her mouth and dribbling down her chin.

Violet hollows her cheeks and his knees buckle. He feels her swallow around him and he throws his head back fucking her mouth faster.

“Your pussy is divine but your mouth… god… your mouth was made for my cock.” He grunts loudly. She moans around him, gripping onto his thighs for purchase.

Jolly cums with a shout, spilling his semen down her throat. Violet keeps him in her mouth until he’s bent over her shuddering. Eventually, Jolly pulls her off of him, joking about how she’s trying to kill him.

Violet lies back on the bed catching her breath. Jolly kisses her forehead, rubbing the insides of her thighs and she smiles up at him.

“I’m going to run a bath. I’ll be right back to come get you, okay?”

When Jolly comes back a few minutes later, Violet is already asleep snoozing on his pillow. He smiles and chuckles softly, sliding his hands underneath her to pick her up. She startles slightly but he soothes her.

“C’mon, my flower. Time to get cleaned up.”

Jolly sits her in the bathtub gently, stepping in behind her and situating her between his legs. Violet lays against his chest and he wraps his arms around her. She turns slightly in his embrace and nuzzles into his neck. He can still feel her trembling a little.

He hums softly as he grabs her legs, pulling her into his lap so he can have better access to them. Violet melts into him when he massages her sore muscles and he hopes that she can’t feel his heart beating out of his chest. As much as he loved watching her come undone underneath him, seeing her so peaceful with him meant even more.

They lay together for a while, enjoying the warmth of the water and each other’s skin. There isn’t much conversation, just the sound of Jolly’s humming. Anytime he stops for more than five seconds she nuzzles further into his neck, which he took as a hint to keep going.

Jolly eventually, much to Violet’s protests, adjusts her so he can wash her body. Her demeanor changes when she finds out that back scrubs also come with soft kisses to her shoulders. During his task, Jolly finds out she’s ticklish on her sides and takes full advantage, resulting in fits of giggles and a soaked floor.

After he washes and conditions her hair, he has to threaten to tickle her again to get her to let him rinse her off. After they’re done, he drains the tub and helps her out, wrapping her in a towel and sitting her on the bathroom counter.

Jolly dries himself off and steps out of the bathroom, returning a few minutes later in just a pair of fresh sweatpants. In his hand, he had one of his shirts and another pair of sweatpants, sitting them next to Violet on the counter top.

He helps her off the counter and into his clothes, realizing that he could have skipped the pants altogether once he saw her swimming in his t-shirt. She looked so adorable it made his chest ache.

Violet sits in his lap on the bed as he combs the tangles out of hair. Jolly watches her in the mirror facing them. Her eyes are closed and she looks more content than Jolly has ever seen her. She opens her eyes quicker than Jolly can look away and she catches him staring. A wide smile spreads across her face.

“Do you spoil everyone like this after sex?” She asks, leaning back against him.

Jolly was always adamant about aftercare. To him, it wasn’t an option, it was a requirement. He always makes it special for each partner depending on their needs.

Has he gone to the lengths he went to tonight for her though? Absolutely not.

Jolly feels himself panic briefly, not sure how to respond. He doesn’t want to lie to her, but he doesn’t want to freak her out. He isn’t sure what he is feeling, but they’re not the same feelings he had when she walked in his door earlier.

He stares down at her, her bright eyes once again making him crumble. He cups her face and kisses her gently.

“Just you, my flower.”

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

bound to break (jolly karlsson x reader one shot)

cw: just angst oops

iwas incredibly proud of him, don’t get me wrong.

i loved his dark eyes sparkling with passion whenever he hit the stage and hit the first snares of his guitar. the concentrated, serious frown and expression he carried during the entire performance, whilst i knew more than anyone how much he was beaming on the inside, like a burning sun filled with passion, radiating to the instrument he’s playing.

but it hurt as well. it hurt that he had to chose between two of the things he loved the most; me, and his career. i wish i could’ve put it differently that night when it all went wrong—wrong for my heart now still desperately aching for him, needing him. for him to come home and wrap his arms around me like a safe heaven, singing me softly asleep, as he noticed i was close to drifting away but just needing to hear his calm and warm voice against my ear, the only thing that made me sleep fully and peacefully.

but i needed to break the silence, the painful eating silence between us whenever we were together and i just had to sit and watch him still being occupied by work instead of holding me like he always used to when he had days off.

“y/n, please. you can’t make me choose—”

“i’m not making you chose, joakim. or at least, i don’t want you to, but… i’m trying to explain to you that that i find it very hard to see you less and less, and now that you’ve just gotten back for three days you have to leave again!”

“i know!” he had yelled back, in frustration, in sadness. “i know, and it’s not like i like it either! but this is an opportunity we as a band have to take, you understand that right? we haven’t been able to play like this for y—”

“i never said i didn’t!” my voice breaks in a hoarse whisper, heart close to breaking as i interrupt him, ‘cause i knew where this conversation would end up to. it was bound to happen for a while now, and we were both tired. tired, yearning for each other every single day, yet our needs never got met. and it destroyed us, slowly but steadily, like a wall between us about to crack with each time we saw each other, waiting to get broken by either of us.

“but you understand that this situation becomes tiring for me, right? joakim, i barely see you and it becomes less and less, shorter and shorter. i miss you, i miss us—i miss who we were and could be!”

a silence is followed, only our ragged breathing being heard in the room around us, and jolly looks at me with a saddening frown, and i know i have the same look at my face, just more frustratedly and tired.

“what are you saying exactly, y/n?” he then asked after a moment, stepping slightly closer, a messy strand of hair escaping from his half up bun that i’m tempted to brush away behind his ear, but i keep both my hands to my side.

“what i’m saying is… i don’t know anymore how we can still make this work between us. i want to, truly, and you know that—but… it’s getting tiring. it’s getting tired to miss my other half, and him not even being with me when we’re together. even at home you’re constantly wrapped up in work, and i can just sit here and watch in silence waiting for you to leave your damn office and become known of my existence again.”

the memory of that night is painful. painful especially when i lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, the fabric of the sheets and mattress feeling extra cold now that he is not there anymore to make it warm and comfortable, safe and nice to lay in—i wasn’t able to sleep for weeks after we decided to take a break and see where life would lead us, if the road of this hectic life would take us back together or not.

so far, it didn’t. it seemed like jolly didn’t even want to take the first step. and maybe that was because of his busy schedule, maybe it was because i was too afraid of the reality peeking around the corner and watching me, watching me like a hawk to remind me all of this was never going to work out again, so i didn’t take the first step either. the only way i was in some sort of contact with him, was through a tv screen, watching him perform in a small intimate venue, which was a huge difference from the festival his band had played the night before, and just in general. they were getting more and more successful each day.

i would watch with tears stinging in my eyes, feeling both utterly heartbroken but so proud of him as well. because i knew be belonged to that stage, along with his friends, his brothers, creating music so special, inspiring and important for others with the passion clearly rushing through his body, the body that one held me with so much love and joy, that i couldn’t be mad at him anymore.

because i couldn’t take this type of love and joy from him either, because he was clearly made for this and the stage—and it hurts that he was not made for me, and a life together, after all.

[measuredingold]

slow burn

authors note: three posts in ONE month ? who am i ? 🫣 don’t get used to this lol i’m just working on wips i’ve had for months and finally got around to finishing them ! here’s a jolly piece i’ve been working on since… december i think ? lost inspo and then finished it earlier this week :) as always, enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! titled from slow burn by kacey musgraves

pairing: joakim karlsson x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 4.1k

cw/tw: friends to lovers, feelings realization/confessions ( kind of ), jolly is sort of bad at feelings lol, pushy bartender makes reader uncomfy, drinking, ~kissing~, jolly is jealous lol, 18+ minors dni

"Your face is gonna get stuck like that if you don't stop."

Noah's words pull Jolly out of his thoughts, the older flickering his gaze towards his friend. Noah looks smug, lips curled slightly as his eyes glint playfully and all Jolly can do is scoff, rolling his own.

"Fuck off." The Swede mutters, gaze falling back onto you.

Noah hums, "Dude, seriously. You look like you're trying to blow that guy up with your mind."

"Maybe I am." Jolly's quick to respond, eyes cutting towards Noah again before going back to you.

He watches you laugh and he wishes he could hear it from where he's sitting, in the corner on the other side of the bar. He pretends that he does, that sweet little laugh you did when something's actually funny. He can even see the way your eyes crinkle at the sides, nose scrunching as your laughter fills the air. A scowl makes its way back to Jolly's face as he watches you and the bartender continue to chat it up.

"You know what would fix all of this?" Noah sounds closer and Jolly turns his head, seeing the boy had moved his chair closer to Jolly's, throwing his arm around the back of it. "If you just told her that you want to kiss her."

Jolly's eyes narrow. "Can you please shut the fuck up?"

"Dude." It's Noah's turn to roll his eyes. "If you just... I don't know," His arm that's not resting against Jolly's chair moves in front of him, "tell her how you feel, maybe she'd be laughing at your jokes like that."

"She laughs at my jokes." Jolly mutters, almost to himself, peeling his eyes away from his friend. He tries not to look your way, seriously, but he always seems to find you first in a crowd. You're finally walking away from the bar, carefully holding yours and Noah's drinks. "Why did you make her go up by herself? You should've gone."

"She offered!" Noah's quick to defend himself. "She literally got up before I could even stop her, I didn't make her do shit."

Jolly brings his beer up to his mouth to try and hide the smirk that's currently residing there, eyes on you as you finally make your way back to the table.

You had been one of the first people he met out in Los Angeles, through Noah of course because the guy just seemed to fucking know everyone. It's called networking, dude, he would say. Jolly scoffs at the memory before giving you a smile when you sit down, sliding Noah's drink towards him.

"There you are, my good sir." You say, putting on some kind of accent that Jolly thinks is supposed to be British, and he doesn't have the heart to tell you that it's nowhere close.

"Why thank you, m'lady." Noah responds in the same fashion, voice dipping deeper. Something inside Jolly turns when you laugh at the other boy. "Next rounds on me."

You open your mouth to argue, both of them are sure of that, and Noah holds a hand up towards you, eyes narrowing. "No arguing. Jolly just bit my fuckin' head off for making you go up there by yourself, when I didn't even do that."

Jolly groans. "I did not bite your head off."

"Don't listen to him. He was fucking vicious."

You laugh again, much louder this time, and Jolly swears his entire face flushes just from the sound alone.

"Now, why would you do that, Joakim?"

He's always loved the way his name rolled off your tongue, all sweet and soft. Almost like you were made to say it. He takes another sip of his beer, more so to try and hide the smile that's threatening to form and shrugs his shoulders.

"I didn't do anything. Noah's a fucking liar."

Another laugh pulls from you and Jolly lets himself smile now. He hears Noah scoff beside him and knows the younger boy is probably rolling his eyes, slumping back in his seat because he's too goddamn dramatic for his own good.

"Sounds like him." You say, finally picking your own drink up to take a sip. You fall back against your chair, eyes moving between both Jolly and Noah. "He's always been a liar."

"A shit one at that." Jolly remarks, and you laugh again. Pride fills his chest.

See. I make her laugh, Noah.

"I am literally still right here." Noah grumbles and Jolly finally looks at his friend and sees the small curl of his lips to indicate he wasn't actually mad about the teasing. "You're being assholes to the guy who said he'd buy your next drinks."

"My apologies, man." Jolly raises his glass in a cheer before bringing it back to his lips, taking another drink. "Remind me to be an asshole after you get us our drinks."

Noah rolls his eyes and throws up his middle finger, and Jolly tosses his head back in laughter.

The night goes off as it normally would, fucking around with each other, jamming along to whatever song is playing on the speakers around them. Every now and then Jolly would catch you looking at him, and he swore he noticed a slight twinge of color on your cheeks every time he caught you before you quickly looked away. It happens for the fourth time when Noah finally gets up to get you all another round of drinks, and this time Jolly decides to test the waters.

"What?"

Your eyes widen. "Huh?"

"You keep staring." He tries to act cool, passing it off as no big deal as his arms cross over his chest, and he tries to ignore his rapidly beating heart. "Is there something on my face?"

"No."

"Hm." He hums to himself, head tilting. "Just like looking at me?"

That catches you off guard and he grins to himself when he sees your cheeks flush, turning your head away from him to try and hide.

"You're so full of yourself, Joakim."

"Maybe... but you haven't denied it."

You face him again, the slight twinge of color still on your cheeks as your eyes meet. You smile, soft and small and it has Jolly's heart wanting to explode with... whatever it was he was feeling.

"And what if I do?"

That stuns him into silence but only for a moment, eyes never leaving yours. His lips twitch but he tries to suppress the smile that so desperately wants to stretch across his face, flicking his gaze off to the side.

"Well..." He clicks his tongue before gazing at you once again. "I don't blame you."

You raise a brow. "Hm?"

He shrugs then motions to himself. "I'm very handsome. I'm sure you're not the only one who likes to stare."

"Jesus," You roll your eyes but you're laughing, and he finally lets himself smile. "You really are full of yourself."

"Maybe I am." He reaches for his almost beer, taking one more swig of it before placing it back on the table. "But you like it."

The flush on your cheeks and the confused expression on Noah's face once he returned was very well worth it.

"What's going on here?" Noah questions, handing Jolly's beer to him.

"Nothing." You reply quickly, clearing your throat. You glance at him briefly before focusing your gaze on Noah. "Jolly being Jolly."

"That could mean many, many things." Noah sits back down, sliding your drink towards you before looking at Jolly. "What'd you do?"

Jolly shrugs but says nothing, bringing the new bottle of beer up to his lips, taking a long sip. Both you and Noah stare at him, Noah even more confused than before and your eyes narrowed playfully, causing Jolly to chuckle to himself.

"Ooo-kay." Noah drags out his words, not looking convinced one bit.

"Jesus." You sputter out after taking a sip of your drink, face scrunched up in disgust. "What the fuck did you get me, Noah?"

"A vodka redbull?"

"Are you sure?" You push your drink towards him and he takes it easily, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip.

"Holy shit." He coughs, pushing the drink away from him. "What the fuck is that?"

"That's why I'm asking you!"

"Listen. I ordered a vodka redbull. Your bartender boy is the one who made it so he's the one who fucked up. Take it up with him."

Jolly internally groans at the mention of the bartender from earlier, and rolls his eyes, bringing his beer back up to his lips and taking another long sip.

Of course he fucked it up. Not shocking at all.

"I'm going to." You grumble, staring down at the drink in front of you with extreme distaste. "I can't believe you paid for this."

"What was I supposed to do, drink it?”

"Yes." Both you and Jolly say in unison, casting each other amused glances.

"Unbelievable." Noah grumbles, slumping back against his chair. "Can’t believe you’re being mean to the guy who willingly bought you drinks.”

"You poor baby. How will you ever survive?" Noah grumbles something low under his breath, arms crossing over his chest. You snort before turning your focus on Jolly, eyes softening. "I'm gonna go get whatever the fuck this is fixed. I'll be back."

He nods, lips pressed into a straight line as he watches you walk back up to the bar. His eyes narrow when he notices the bartender find you immediately, a smug smirk sliding onto his lips. Jolly frowns as the realization dawns on him.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Jolly all but groans before throwing his drink back, taking another nice, long sip.

"What?" Noah's no longer pouting, looking between him and the bar. "What's going on?"

"He did this on purpose, dude." He grumbles, gaze planted on you and the overly flirty bartender. "Knew what she was drinking. Made it shitty so she'd have to come back up there and talk to him."

"Shit." Noah nods to himself, bringing his drink to his lips. “…That's kind of smart when you think about it."

Jolly shoots him a glare.

"What? I'm right!" Noah exclaims. "Fuck up a pretty girls drink so bad she has to come back up and get it fixed, meaning she has to talk to you again? That's smart!"

"And fucking weird." Jolly grumbles, moving his glare away from Noah and back up to the bar.

His fingers tighten around the glass bottle in his hands as you laugh again at something the bartender says, internally rolling his eyes. He's probably not even that funny, he thinks to himself.

He hated that he was jealous. He didn't really have any reason to be, or any right for that matter, because you were just friends. Sure, maybe Noah was right when saying he should just get over it and tell you how he felt, but he can't. Not yet, at least.

Or ever.

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind for the unforeseeable future, he watches you carefully. His fingers tighten around his bottle again when he notices the very second your body language changes at whatever bartender boy is saying to you. Your shoulders stiffen and he can see your brows furrowing, lips dipping into a frown. He definitely just said something you definitely didn't like.

"Uh oh." Noah seems to have noticed as well. "Someone is not happy."

"You think?" Jolly grumbles but his eyes never leave you, glaring at the bartender who leans over the table closer to you.

Everything inside him is telling him to get up and go to you but he keeps himself seated. You can take care of yourself, you don't need him to protect you. You've told him and the boys countless times that you can handle yourself - and you can. He can't help it, though, especially when you take a step back when the bartender tries to reach for your hand, your head shaking.

Fuck that.

He ignores Noah's warning, telling him to let you handle it because he knows you’re capable. He can already hear you calling the bartender out halfway to you but his feet move without much thought. You don't notice him at first, but the bartender does, and the way his eyes narrow at Jolly has him giving the guy a scowl right back, placing his hand on your lower back.

"Hey," He says softly, letting his presence be known. You jump but relax when you see that it's him, relief washing over your face. "Everything alright?"

"Just making her a drink, man."

"I wasn't talking to you." Jolly's response is quick and he doesn't care if he sounds rude, throwing the bartender the fakest smile he can muster before focusing back on you, arm coming up to wrap around your shoulder. "You good?"

Your eyes flick between Jolly and the bartender. "Yeah. I'm good."

"You sure?" He presses. "You didn't look too happy. Decided I should come up here and see what's up."

"Hey man-"

"I thought you were making her a drink?" Jolly tilts his head, feigning innocent curiosity. The others eyes widen, having been taken aback by his words before he frowns, reaching for your now forgotten drink. "Thanks."

"Jolly."

He thinks he's pissed you off, been a bit too rude to your bartender boy, but when he looks at you again you're fighting off a grin.

"What?"

"You're an asshole." You all but sigh out, losing the fight as your lips stretch into a grin.

He can't help but grin down at you, eyes scanning over your face to double check that you weren't upset with him before squeezing your shoulder.

"You love it."

You go to say something but stop when someone clears their throat, the bartender sliding your newly made drink towards you. Jolly lazily moves his gaze back to him, giving him the most unamused look, but his focus isn't on him.

"So, like I was saying before we got interrupted," Jolly doesn't miss the sideways glance the bartender gives him before eyes locking on you again, giving you the sleaziest grin that has Jolly cringing, "in exchange for fixing your drink, why don't you give me that number of yours?"

"Seriously?" Jolly's mouth was moving, but it was you who beat him to the punch. He looks down at you and he has to hold back a laugh as you glare at the bartender in front of you, brows furrowed in disgust. "You fucked with my drink on purpose, dude."

"Yeah, but it was to get you to talk to me again." The guy shrugs as if it's the most obvious thing and Jolly can't help but roll his eyes at him, internally groaning to himself. "Plus, I fixed the drink for free. I think I should be owed something since I didn't make you pay."

"That's fucking weird, man." Jolly finally speaks up, anger washing over him. This dude can't be fucking serious? "She doesn't owe you shit, especially because you fucked it up on purpose."

"This has nothing to do with you."

"I don't give a fuck if it has anything to do with me, you're a fucking creep-"

"Oh, fuck you, man-"

"Stop." Your voice pulls Jolly away from the bartender, casting you a glance. You give him a small, tight-lipped smile before cutting your gaze back to the other, eyes narrowing. "He's right. I don't owe you shit, and the fact that you think I do tells me everything I need to know. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested.”

The guy's jaw twitches and Jolly thinks for a split second he's going to do something rash and he can't help himself from dropping his arm from your shoulder and gently pushing you back. He slips between you and the bar, two barriers to keep you away from this guy. Jolly doesn't avert his gaze from the man in front of him until the bartender sighs, eyes rolling.

"Not even worth it," Jolly swears he hears the bartender grumble under his breath before their eyes lock again. "If you're not going to take the drink, then it's probably time for you guys to leave."

Jolly's eyes narrow. "Are you seriously kicking us out because she doesn't want to give you her fucking number? That's path-"

The bartender looks like he's about to cut him off, and Jolly genuinely wishes he does because he's just dying to rip this guy a new one, but he feels your hand on his back and another presence beside him.

"Everything alright?"

Noah's presence pulls Jolly out of the angry fog that was clouding his mind, head turning to stare at his friend. His expression was hard as his eyes flicked between him, the bartender and you and the bartender's arms crossed over his chest, his angry expression faltering for just a moment.

"Nothing." You say quickly, hand reaching out to circle around Jolly's wrist now. "We were just leaving, actually."

Noah's hard expression was changed to one of confusion, looking down at you with a raised brow. "Really?"

"Yes. Let's go."

With one more glare casted towards the bartender, Jolly let you drag him out of the bar. He ignored the glances from the other people inside, not really caring that anyone saw that. He's actually glad people did and hoped someone recognized that bartender for the fucking creep he is and-

"Jolly."

Your voice catches him off guard and he blinks, staring down at you. You were outside now on the curb and he glanced to his side to find Noah tapping away on his phone, presumably ordering an uber for the three of you. He blinks again and stares down at you once more, a sigh slipping from his lips.

"What?"

"You didn't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't piss me off." You gave him an unamused look, lips pressed in a straight line. "I could've handled it."

"I know." And he does. "I was just making sure you were alright. That’s what friends do.”

You pause, eyeing Jolly. He feels like his skin is on fucking fire under your gaze and does his best to look anywhere but you.

"Joakim," Your voice is soft as you step closer to him, arms crossing over your chest. "Why'd you really do that?"

“I already told you-“

“Were you jealous?”

Your question stuns him and he can only stare down at you. Of course he was jealous. What else would he be? He can’t admit that, though. He was also your friend above all else, though, and seeing that dude make you uncomfortable was the last straw for him.

“Why’d you-“

"Dude." He cuts you off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn't know if it's the anger bubbling through his veins from that interaction, or maybe because Noah's words are still swirling around his mind, but his mouth moves before he thinks twice about it. "You fucking know why."

There's another long pause.

The air shifts between the two of you and Jolly can hear Noah off to the side, shuffling his feet, trying to act like he's not eavesdropping on this conversation when he so obviously is. Your eyes are still on him, he knows that much, and he spares a glance down at you. Your gaze is much softer than before, arms still crossed over your chest, and he swears he sees a hint of a smile on your lips.

"Actually, I don't fucking know why you were a dick to him. Please enlighten me."

Jolly groans. "Dude."

"Dude." You mimic his voice, the smile playing on your lips only growing more and Jolly can't stop his own from forming.

"You know why." His voice drops, much quieter than before, and he finds himself almost feeling... shy? "Don't make me say it, okay?"

Noah clears his throat from beside him, coughing out a quiet, "Say it."

Jolly shoots a glare towards his friend and Noah looks anywhere but him, turning his back to stare at the brick wall of the bar. He rolls his eyes before focusing back on you, your head tilting with a playful grin.

"I think you should take your friend's advice." You take another step closer to him, the tips of your shoes touching now. "Say it."

"I can't."

And it's true. He doesn't think he can. At least not here, with Noah beside him. He thinks it's because he doesn't want to prove the male right. He'll be damned if he boosts Noah's already inflated ego. Another part of him knows that he would rather do it with just the two of you. Privacy, not in the open on the curb of some fucking bar you got kicked out of because the bartender was a creep.

"Why not?"

"Because it's hard." He tilts his head to where Noah's standing, back still turned but most definitely listening in. "Plus, he's right there listening like a creep. Can't boost that ego of his for being right."

"And what is he right about?"

He lets out a soft sigh of your name before saying, "Don't make me say it."

"Okay." Disappointment flashes across your face and Jolly's heart drops for a split second before you speak again, "Show me, then."

"...Show you?"

"Yeah. Show me. Since you can't say it."

His eyes lock with yours, searching for some kind of answer. You can't be asking for that. If it's what Jolly's thinking. Another beat of silence passes and Jolly's eyes drop to your lips quickly before dragging back up your face, but you definitely caught him.

"Are you sure?"

It's probably a dumb thing to ask, he knows, but he can't help it. He needs to know you're sure, one hundred percent positive before he does something that will change the trajectory of your friendship forever. This time it's your eyes that drop to his lips and he definitely doesn't miss the way your tongue darts out, swiping across your bottom lip before your gaze locks with his again.

"Yes. I'm sure."

Jolly could do two things right about now. He could run, like his body is yelling at him to do. Go on like nothing happened and possibly ruin whatever it is the two of you have going on. Or he could just do it. Say fuck it, listen to his mind for once, and right now his mind is screaming about how bad he wants to fucking kiss you.

His eyes search yours one more time, and the way you're staring at him, eyes begging, has his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Fuck it.

He hears you suck in a deep breath, hand reaching up to circle around his wrist to keep his hand there. He chuckles quietly at the feeling of your shaky fingers against his skin and he's glad to know he's not the only one nervous here before dipping his head, lips pressing to yours gently. He keeps it short and simple, not exactly wanting to kiss you the way he's been dreaming of out of this corner. He can tell you don't mind with the way your fingers tighten around his wrist, sighing softly against his lips.

He pulls back moments later and watches your eyes flutter open, a small, satisfied grin settling on your lips.

"Oh." You breathe out, biting down on your bottom lip to contain the smile beginning to form.

Jolly doesn't know what comes over him but the urge to kiss you soars, his chest warming at the thought and he finds himself leaning back in. Your lips don't connect, though, a loud honking from the street causing the two of you to jump apart.

"Ubers here." Noah's already making his way to the Uber and Jolly hears him asking for the driver's name before he finally glances his way. "Keep your hands to yourselves the entire ride, please. I don't want to be traumatized."

"Fuck you, Noah." Both you and Jolly say in unison.

You give each other a look before bursting out into laughter, especially at the not amused look Noah is giving you. He grumbles something before getting into the car and you tug at Jolly's wrist, your fingers still attached to him.

"Let's go."

The smile you give him almost knocks the breath right out of him. He lets you drag him to the car and the three of you cram into the backseat, Noah whining about how he's already squished and how unfair it is. Jolly only grins from beside you when you start to bicker with Noah, his hand coming down to rest on your thigh. You don't stop speaking but your hand does come down to his, fingers lacing with his own.

Jolly turns his head to look out the window, hiding his smile.

[breakcut]

Nea Karlsson / @street-artists has joined the game:

"Yo Feng! Got some spray cans and booze. Wanna deface a realm with me? If not im down to chill."

A curious grin spreads across Min's face at the other's request. She had been a bit of a hellion before the entity took her into the fog, but she hadn't made graffiti. "I've never really tagged anything before, but..."

She tucks her hair behind her ear, revealing a hand-rolled cigarette, cultivated by the fog's "finest flora" she could find, thanks to Claudette. Removing it from it's place on her ear, she pulls a "Laser Bears" custom lighter from her shorts pocket. "I just need a little," she cuts herself off with a giggle. "Herbal inspiration."

Before she lights the end, she extends her hand to the other in offering. After all, sharing is caring, right? "Want the first hit?"

[cowpokeomens]

absolution

Pairing: Pastor!Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!! A looot of references to religion (it all takes place in a church, so), smut smut smut (p-in-v) I'm including dubcon bc consent is weird with power dynamics, age gaps (10 yr) (everyone is of legal age though!!), some body horror stuff, power imbalance, I think that's all but if you come across something that I missed please reach out so I can tag accordingly!!! Love u bye!!!

A/N: This was really cathartic to write lmao I have a sprinkling of Religious Trauma and this helped me work through some of those feelings in my own weird horny way. It is porn, please don't start expecting me to be some kinda respectable writer with plotlines or whatever. PLEASE HEED THE TAGS. Okay enjoy!!!!

The guilt of it is eating you alive. 

The pressure between your legs- the raw, empty ache that plagues you day in and day out. Sitting on your pew, you are once again swept away by long, glossy hair and inked knuckles, turning sacred pages of a holy book that can do nothing to hold your attention at this moment.

What an impression of Christ he makes, you think to yourself, sounding hypnotized even in your internal monologue. 

He arrived when you were 19, to your small town, to your even smaller church. The rest of the folks in town think your congregation is too… fanatical. You can’t imagine a world in which someone could be over-zealous for the word of God, and even so, Pastor Karlsson had done a lot to level the congregation out. 

He was a divorcee, not by his choice, he has said. He was only 29 when he first rolled into town, funny accent and even funnier sounding name causing immediate distrust in your tight-knit community.

But God, did he have a testimony. Sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll, the tattoos adorning his body told you the story better than those gaudy stained glass windows in the snobby Catholic churches ever could. A lecherous lifestyle with a woman who didn’t love him, not really - not the way you do. He had humbled himself to you all, and you gladly let him in. He was made a pillar in your community - he became a leader to the congregation.

Which is why you always suppressed your feelings, putting them in a locked sarcophagus and hurling it to the far recesses of your mind. You will not be the thing that tries to come between him and the Lord.

You look up at him as he speaks, standing at the pulpit and wielding the word of God like the Archangel Michael who so valiantly struck down Satan. He who is made in God’s image; Had it not been for your utter devotion to the Lord, you would have wondered if he could sin at all.

But you knew better. Everyone carried their own sins. You had heard stories of husbands and wives who idolized each other so much that they left the church altogether. Your heart broke at the thought of leaving God’s light to worship something as sinful as human flesh, couldn’t imagine risking an eternity of paradise for what would one day be dust. 

Not that you’d know, of course. You’d never felt the touch of a man outside of when Pastor Karlsson baptized you the day before your 21st birthday. It had been fuel for weeks, his gentle hand on your back, guiding you underneath the water of the river that ran out behind the church. You had stuffed yourself full of your own fingers that night, stuffed your mouth full of bed linens so that no one would hear how you came undone at the mere thought of him. 

Perhaps you are the lecherous one, after all. Though you can’t help but think that God has given you Pastor Karlsson on purpose, as a test of your faith. A test that you believed you were passing, for the most part. You haven’t missed a Sunday sermon since you caught the flu in 2021, and even so, you watched the livestreams on Facebook. You keep your nose in your Bible, and ignore the clench in your gut when he tells you good morning. 

This morning is different. 

This morning is worse. 

You just come off of your period- disgusting and uncomfortable as it was, you are thankful it was over and you can enjoy the rest of your June in peace. But it lingers under your skin, an itch that can’t be scratched. Your emotions are raw, and you burst into tears twice this week, unprompted. Worst of all is the ache. 

You didn’t know you could feel so empty. It claws at your insides like a caged beast, mockingly calling in the voice of Moloch himself, “Fill me up, fill me up.”

You threw yourself headfirst into your studies; you reviewed Ecclesiastes as a way to ground yourself, to remind yourself that this was a temporary feeling, and would pale in comparison to the absolution of Heaven. 

Still, sitting in your pew, you felt the hunger gnashing at you, gnawing at your throat. It was overwhelming, all-consuming. You stutter through your hymnal, barely reading half the words. Your mother keeps giving you concerned looks, your father aloof as ever. Halfway through the sermon, she hisses in your ear, “What is the matter with you?” 

You blink up at her, wide-eyed, and stammer out a “I - I don’t know. I feel… weird.” 

She purses her lips, but says nothing, turning back to Pastor Karlsson in the pulpit. 

You pass the time in silence, feeling itchy and hot, until the sermon concludes, and everyone makes a mass exodus to the dirt lot where their cars are parked.

“Hold on.” Your mother stops you as you begin exiting your pew. 

She walks over and, to your utter horror, greets Pastor Karlsson, pulling him aside and speaking to him in hushed tones. He nods once, glancing at you, then nods again as she steps away. She looks grateful, patting his shoulder in that way that mothers do. 

He looks at you then, and his full attention is enough to make you combust. Suddenly your dress is too tight on your chest, your breasts straining with every breath against the linen that encases you. Your bones itch, but your hands stay resolutely tucked into your sides, your Bible held against your chest.

You’re so busy focusing on breathing that you don’t realize he’s walking towards you until he’s right in front of you, smiling warmly while greeting you by name. Your mother is by his side, looking at you in such a way that tells you she had something to do with this interaction. 

“Darling, Pastor Karlsson here wants a word with you. He even said he’d give you a ride back to the house! I’ll set aside a plate for you at home, you two take your time here.” She was smiling in a way that made all of her teeth visible, like a snarling animal. A lead brick settles in your stomach at the expression as you look up at Pastor Karlsson.

He was so tall, you think as you peer up at him. Dark eyes meet yours, making your gaze flicker away to something else- anything else to avoid the intensity you find there. Looking directly into his eyes was like looking into the maw of a starving beast- you weren’t brave enough to even consider it.

Your mother departs with a final “Wonderful sermon, Joakim, thank you!” Flashing one of her pageant smiles at him - one she’s never given your father - as she goes. 

He nods politely, murmuring a quiet, “All the glory to God.” before turning back to you. He gives you a thoughtful look before he speaks again.

“Your mother is concerned about you.” His tone was not accusatory or pointed, just repeating facts. 

You inhale shakily. “Yeah, I feel kind of weird today.” Admitting to such a thing is not a lie - you do feel weird today. 

He nods, as if understanding. Then, “Would you like to speak in my office? I have to pick up a few things, then we can head out.”

The thought of being in an enclosed space with him made you almost pass out, but you persevere, giving a meek nod as you follow him out of the sanctuary.

It was a short walk from the sanctuary to his office, your church is small, even among small churches. You love its modesty; It is a far cry from the towering spires and flying buttresses you saw in your history books back in school, but it has a self-effacing quality that makes it approachable to people from all walks of life. 

The walls are painted white, though slightly yellowed with age. Dark wood lines the floor, blue carpet cushioning your steps as you walk. There aren’t many windows - it was built for insulation, not sight-seeing, after all. Crosses hang sporadically throughout the hallways, some wooden, carved by members, others purchased at a discount at the craft stores a few towns over. 

His office is a glorified coat closet, something the elders threw together haphazardly when God called him to serve. It fit a desk, a desktop computer that was older than dirt, and two chairs, one on either side of the desk. The carpet is green, the walls beige, and you have always thought it is an entirely unbecoming space for such a Godly man. It’s a good thing he was humble; God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble, you think, almost bitterly, as he sits down in the chair by the computer. You make a mental note to work on your own humility as you sit down in the chair opposite him. 

“So, what’s got you feeling weird?” He asks with a small smile, putting his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers together. His hair falls over his shoulders with the movement, cascading down in a curtain of silk. You remind yourself to breathe. 

Stammering, you try to explain yourself. “I’m- I’m not sure, Pastor Karlsson-”

“Joakim.” He interrupts you gently. 

You blink at him, confusion evident in your face. He must find something about the expression amusing, because he’s smiling softly and continuing, “You can call me Joakim. We’re both grown-ups here.”

You swallow loudly, the sound all but ricochets in the stillness of the room. “R-right. I’m not really sure why I feel so weird. I just had a really hard time focusing today.” You suddenly realize what you’ve said, correcting yourself quickly. “Not that the sermon wasn’t good! Your sermons are always wonderful, Pastor Karls - Joakim.” 

He’s smiling broadly now, clearly entertained by your flailing. “It’s okay, käresta, I understand what you mean." A pause, then he lowers his hands. "Is there something on your mind specifically? Something that’s preventing you from focusing?”

You go still, scared to breathe too fully, lest it give you away. Your eyes slide to the ground, teeth coming out to gnaw at your lip. You can feel your heart racing in your throat- the throbbing sensation makes you wonder if you’ll actually vomit from anxiety. You freeze further when Joakim places a hand on your arm, gently.

His voice is barely audible when he whispers, “Hey, it’s okay. We all have our sins, and sin is sin -”

“- Is sin.” You finish for him, sounding unconvinced. You take a deep breath, then redirect your gaze back to him. His eyes are soft with concern, mouth pulled into the faintest frown. Hating to imagine you’re the reason he’s so upset, you blurt out before you can even process your words.

“I’ve been having lustful thoughts about a man in the congregation.” Once the words have been said, you fight the urge to grab them clean out of the air and stuff them back into your mouth. 

The hand on your arm tenses for half a second, then relaxes again. “Okay.” He begins calmly, pulling his hand back to the table. You resist the urge to whimper at the loss of contact. “I can see where your concern is coming from. Is this man married?”

There were only so many unmarried men in the congregation; it would be an easy elimination if you were truthful. But... You were already coming clean about one sin, no need to add on others, you reasoned. Shaking your head in a negative, you give a meek, “No, he’s not.”

Joakim nods thoughtfully, staying silent for a moment. You can all but see the gears turning in his mind, deducing who it could be. You wonder if he lists himself amongst the unmarried men- or if he is courting some woman, unbeknownst to you all. No, your mind fired at you venomously. He is not the sort of man to slink around in the shadows. 

Finally, he spoke. “While lust is never something to give full rein to, it is understandable, biologically speaking.” Upon seeing your confusion, he offers another soft smile, continuing. “You’re at an age where your body wants you to have children. It is what God made you for, it’s only natural that someone as devoted as you are would respond strongly to His plan. You’re not doing anything wrong, käresta.”

Relief floods your body, making your shoulders sag at the loss of tension. You aren’t doing anything wrong, Joakim even told you so. But that makes you wonder- is there anything you should be doing? You’re about to ask when he speaks again. 

“I’ve been wanting to speak with you privately for a while now.” He huffs a small laugh. “It seems the Lord thought today would be a good time, so it shall be.” 

You straighten your shoulders, sitting up, wanting to make sure he knows he has your full attention. Looking at him fully, you’re not surprised why your body is so responsive to him. He’s so handsome, even with the shadow of dark stubble on his face. You wonder what keeps him up at night, which chapters he gets stuck on for days before clarity dawns on him. It’s no mystery why your body is putting thoughts of lust in your mind; he’s the sort of man who would make a wonderful father. 

You cut off that train of thought, needing to focus on the present moment. He needs your full attention for whatever he’s going to say next. 

“The Lord has been communicating with me for some months now, on the topic of finding a wife.” You both take deep breaths, though for different reasons, you imagine. “You’ve heard my testimony on my previous marriage, so I don’t need to emphasize how much I’ve prayed about this.”

Your heart breaks, shatters, combusts into nothing but ash at his words. The Lord wants him to find a wife, and it sounds like he has someone in mind. You swallow the lump of bile in your throat, trying to listen to his next words as your guts fight the natural inclination to stay in your body.

“I’ve spoken to God a lot, the last few months- even by pastor standards.” The playful smile he gives you feels like a knife twisting in your chest. “And if I’m understanding his message correctly, I believe God wants me to court you.”

You’re so busy wallowing that you don’t understand what he’s said at first. The words sink in slowly, like the drip of an IV into your veins. When you think you understand, you manage a, “What?”

He chuckles, not a degrading sound, rather like he understands your confusion. “I know, it seems sudden, but I’ve been speaking to the Lord about this for many months, and-”

“Oh my goodness.” You interrupt as realization hits you like a freight train. “No - I know. I know. Because God has been speaking to me, too.”

Joakim’s brow furrows at you, and it feels nice to not be the confused one for once. 

You continue, looking up at him shyly. “The… lustful thoughts I’ve been having, they-” You pause, building up your courage. “They’re about you.” 

He’s frozen, mouth slightly agape as he processes your confession. His head tilts to the side slightly, eyes darker than usual as he asks, “You’ve been having lustful thoughts about… me?”

You nod, cheeks tinged pink. “When you’re in the pulpit - I try to focus, I really do, but my mind wanders to… other things.” 

You should be embarrassed, should be ashamed of admitting something so unbecoming. But the comfort of this being God’s plan washes away any ill regards you have about the situation; this is what He has always intended. 

“Other things?” He echoes, eyes focused on you intensely. His voice is hushed, only loud enough for the two of you to hear. “Like what?”

Your blush deepens at his inquiry. “Well, it’s more of a feeling than an exact thought…”

He’s leaning forward now, all but hanging over his desk at your words. He looks hungry, you realize suddenly; Like he’d seen firsthand the famine in Canaan, pupils blown wide, mouth open, breathing slowly. “A feeling?” He prompts.

Nodding, you find yourself leaning forward too, almost desperate to close the gap between you both. You can feel the dust in the air, hear the quiet electric hum of his old desktop computer. Your breath is coming too loudly, it ricochets off the walls around you both. “It feels like an ache.” You explain, sounding hoarse. “It feels like an emptiness.” 

He takes a shaky breath, pushing himself back from his desk in a controlled motion. Standing up, he makes his way around the desk to stand in front of you, one of his calloused hands guiding your chin up to look at him. 

“Do you want me to help you - with the emptiness? The ache?” He questions, eyes boring into yours. 

The thought of it makes your thighs clench together, and the feeling is so delicious that you almost vocalize it. Your mouth is dry, but you feel wetness gathering in your cotton panties already. You almost forget to respond, nodding and breathing out, “Yes, please.”

“Always so well-mannered.” He praises, making you feel warm. You would do just about anything for him to keep going.

The hand on your jaw guides you upward until you’re standing in front of him. You’re not touching, but you can feel the heat emanating from his body, feel the way the air vibrates between you. His eyes travel down to your lips, back up to your eyes, then down to your lips again. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy, lillis?” He asks, eyes half-lidded and voice quiet.

You shake your head, a tiny movement. “No.” You pause, then decide to continue. “I wanted to save myself.”

His inhale is sharp, deep. “Such a good girl.” The words light a fire in your belly, and the familiar gnawing is back, worse than ever before. You shift on your feet, subconsciously searching for any kind of friction. He picks up on the movement. 

“Do you feel empty, now? Are you desolate?” You can feel where his breath hits your face. If you tilted your head right, your lips would meet. The clothes you’re wearing feel itchy - too tight, too rough.  

You can’t speak, so you nod “yes.” His eyes run down your figure, back up again to your lips. 

“Show me where.” Is his only command. You can’t read his expression fully, features arranged into careful neutrality. The spark in his eyes seemed to hint at desperation, though.

Your face is probably the color of a sun-ripened tomato, but you do as he says, grabbing his free hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingers curl up through your skirt, cupping your mound. Your eyelids flutter shut at the contact, hands coming up to rest against his chest to steady yourself. Heartbeat racing, you don’t think there could be anything better than the feeling of what’s happening right now.

“Here? Is this where you feel empty?” His lips move against your cheek, breath fanning across your ear, making you shiver.

You blink several times, trying to clear your head. “Joakim, please.” Is all you can muster, fingers gripping at his shirt. 

You can feel him sag against you as his lips crash into yours. You’re not completely sure of what to do, allowing him to guide your lips open, licking into your mouth. You hear yourself groaning into the kiss, crowding impossibly closer until your bodies are pressed against each other fully. 

He breaks the embrace to place wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck. The feeling is euphoric, making your hips buck into his without conscious decision.

Hands run down your sides, coming up again underneath your dress skirt to grip at the backs of your thighs, yanking you forward with such force that you almost topple over. His left hand is at your back in an instant, holding you steady before unzipping the back of your dress in a swift motion. 

The material pools around your front, hanging loosely until you pry it off, happy to be rid of the too-rough fabric at last. His lips are back on yours in an instant, one hand gripping the back of your neck while the other kneads the flesh of your breast through your bra. 

You outright moan at the feeling, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as your mouth opens to let the sound out. He works a knee between your legs, rubbing the meaty flesh of his thigh against your core in such a way that has you seeing spots in your vision. Fingers curling into claws where they grip onto his shoulders, you grind down onto his leg, an animalistic snarl escaping you as you do so. 

You know this feeling; Though it’s a sin to give into lust, you’ve made yourself climax before, silently, long after everyone had laid down to rest at night. This is so much more, though - you feel as though someone has soaked you in gasoline and laid a lit match to your flesh. Nothing could have torn you from the carnal desire you felt, being entwined with Joakim like this. You want to take turns ripping each other apart, severing limbs and gluing them back together until you have both been remade in His image. You want to bite and gnaw and lick until you taste blood, to soothe the worried skin with soft whispers and softer hands. Dragged to Hell and back, nailed to a cross and left to rot, rising from the dead with such vigor that Lazarus would envy you - you wanted it all, so long as this moment didn’t end.

“Joakim - I, I -” You choke out, eyes focusing on his, foreheads pressed together.

“Good girl, give it to me, everything you’ve got.” He urged you, the hand on your neck coming down against your hip, ushering your pelvis against his thigh. 

Burying your head in his chest, you climax with a wanton moan, body shuddering through the shockwaves of it. Your breathing is labored, vision blurry from clenching your eyes shut so tightly.

He’s gently prying you off his leg then, maneuvering your positions until you find yourself face-down on his desk. Using a knee, he nudges your knees apart until he fits comfortably between them. The new angle has you feeling vulnerable, visible, licentious. 

You don’t have time to dwell on the feeling, because suddenly his fingers are playing with your folds through your ruined panties. Your knees almost buckle at the stimulation, so sensitive it almost hurts. Gripping the other side of the desk to hold yourself upright, you do your very best to stay still as he explores your body. 

Two fingers hook into the side of your panties, moving them to the side. You know he can see everything like this, and while part of you is screaming at the debauchery of it, another, louder part of you hopes he likes what he sees. You’re fighting the urge to sneak a glance at him when the two fingers that moved your panties aside are thrust deep into your core. 

You let out a howl that could rival a rabid dog, nails scraping against the wooden laminate of the desk as your hands clench into fists. He’s curling his fingers inside you slowly, and you can feel every millimeter of it. A string of drool escapes your open mouth, cascading down into a puddle on a stack of prayer requests from this morning’s sermon. 

“That’s it, so good, just take it, lillis.” He murmurs, fingers still unfurling deep inside you. 

You don’t know that you can do anything but take it. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, taking up twice as much space as you’re used to. You feel wonderfully full, the emptiness inside you finally satiated.

But then he’s pulling them out, and you almost sob at the loss of it. You could feel your hole clenching on nothing, throbbing with want; Whether you enjoy it or not, you aren’t even sure. 

You hear a zipper, then the sound of something metallic hitting the carpet. When you turn your neck to see what’s happening, you’re met with the sight of Joakim’s full manhood on display. 

You’ve never seen a man naked before. There were pictures, shown to you unwillingly by the cruel boys who called you a “Bible-thumper” in school, but this is entirely different.

Joakim is… prettier, you think is the right word. His tip is pink, almost red, and wet-looking in the glow of the fluorescent office lights. Veins bulge along the length, throbbing at you angrily as if to mock the throbbing happening within you. It’s big, you realize suddenly. You can’t begin to fathom how it’s going to fit inside you, when his fingers alone made you feel so full already.

A hand is placed at the back of your neck, holding you flat in place. The weight is reassuring, grounding in its pressure as you’re pressed fully against the desk, the cool laminate a welcome reprieve from the fever burning in your skin. You feel him press his tip against your folds, running it through the slickness there, before slowly pushing past your threshold. 

“It hurts.” Is the first thing you whine, legs already trembling. It does hurt - in a sharp way, like stretching to reach your toes first thing in the morning. 

You gasp as he leans over, thrusting further into you as he whispers in your ear. “Shh, I know. It’s the price we must pay for our sin.” His murmur relaxes you a bit, reassures you of what you’re doing. Joakim would not lead you astray; God had spoken to him, given him fortitude in the last months. This was His plan.

The stretch continues as he slowly slides further into you, until your bodies are joined completely. You’re panting, open-mouthed as he fills you entirely. Your toes are barely brushing against the ground from how far he’s pushed you into the desk, corners digging into your hips sharply. 

A soothing hand runs up and down your spine, unraveling the muscles that have been pulled taut with anticipation. Your breathing slows, body easing around the intrusion until only the sensation of fullness remains.

Joakim pulls back then, a slow movement that has you inhaling harshly as he drags along your inner walls. Your mouth goes to ask him what he’s doing, when he slams back into you, cutting off your train of thought in favor of gargling on your breath. 

“Oh my God,” You keen, eyes so wide they might bulge out of your head altogether. 

A jarring slap lands against your backside, stinging skin left in its wake. “Do not take the Lord’s name in vain.” Joakim rasps, sounding as out of breath as you do. 

He pulls back again, only to crash back into you a half-second later. The force of it jolts you, making you wail as your hands reach out for something, anything to hold onto. Documents and envelopes fly onto the floor in your frenzy, looking as haphazard as you feel. 

He continues at an unrelenting pace, hand still firmly gripping the base of your neck from behind. You know you’re being loud; A distant part of you even registers that, given the circumstances, you should probably be much, much quieter. You can’t bring yourself to care, though, an endless chant of Joakim’s name falling from your lips as you do what you can to grind back into him.

The hand leaves your neck, coming down to grab onto your hip while his other hand mirrors the action. Your pelvis is lifted off the desk, thrusts never even pausing as the new angle drives him deeper into you. Tears spring in your eyes from the overstimulation, having climaxed only a few short minutes ago. 

This is absolution, You think. Being tangled together, conjoined like this - There is no fear of sin, no guilt at succumbing to the lust-filled desires of the flesh. As Joakim plunges himself into you, over and over, you find yourself almost dizzy with relief at the weight lifted off your shoulders, the panic of condemnation a distant memory. 

His arm wraps around the front of your hips, holding you in place, as his free hand tangles into your hair, yanking your head towards him. 

“Say the Lord’s prayer.” He groans in your ear, breath hot and sticky. “Beg for His forgiveness. ‘Our Father-’”

“‘-Who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name.” You whimper, the words slipping off your tongue like muscle memory as your body is rocked back and forth by his thrusts. “‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth-” Your voice is cut off by your own gasp as he reaches something in you that you’ve never felt before. Knees shaking, you dig your fingers deeper into the mess of papers surrounding you to try and stabilize yourself. 

“Keep going. ‘On Earth, as it is in Heaven.’” He urges, grip tightening on you. 

“‘Give us today our daily bread,’” You continue, moaning pitifully as he drives into that same spot again. “‘And forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.’”

Tears stream freely down your cheeks now, a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation driving you mad. Joakim is mouthing at the junction of your neck and shoulder, tongue brushing over a spot that makes you shiver into him. A fire is building in your belly, lapping at the bottom of your throat as you move closer and closer to climax. 

“‘L-lead us not into temp- temptation,’” You stutter, mind hazy with want. “‘But d-deliver us from evil.’”

Joakim’s voice is back in your ear. “‘For thine is the Kingdom,” A harsh thrust, “‘The Power,” Another thrust, “And the Glory forever.’” 

The fire burns so hot that it rips the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Your eyes struggle to stay open, fluttering closed each time he rams into you. A particularly harsh pull of your hair reminds you that he is waiting for your response.

“Amen.” You whisper, vision going white as you climax, body twitching forcefully in his arms. His hips stutter once before he buries himself inside you, spilling his seed into you as he does. 

Whether you lay there for seconds or days, you don’t know. Eventually, Joakim pulls out, a string of his release coming with him, rolling down the inside of your thighs. You whimper at the loss, still too sensitive to move. 

“C’mon, käresta, we need to get you dressed. Your mother will wonder where you are.” His voice is gentle behind you, hand rubbing against your lower back to rouse you. 

Your joints pop in protest as you try to push yourself up off the desk. The room is a mess of papers and scattered writing utensils, your dress nothing more than a rumpled pile of cloth on the ground. 

You slip it over your head gingerly, every muscle in your body somehow sore. Joakim zips up the garment for you, running his hands over your clothed back, as if to smooth the wrinkles. 

Turning to face him, you’re met with a soft pair of lips to your forehead, dark hair brushing against your cheeks. The kiss makes you feel brave as you ask, “Joakim?”

His eyes are warm as he gazes down at you, his fingers coming up to comb through your tangled hair. “Hmm?” Is his response as he works out a particularly knotted strand.

You flutter your eyelashes, a move that feels foreign, but somehow right. Looking up at him demurely, you ask, “Will you be leading tonight’s Bible study?”

[jennay]

Summary: Jolly and Reader are first time parents ready for the arrival of their daughter.

Jolly Karlsson x Reader - Fluff

Master list

AN: This might have a few parts eventually cause Jolly as a daddy melts my heart and goofy uncle Noah sounds amazing to write

You sit lazily at the dining room table, surrounded by your friends and Jolly. Noah and his girlfriend, Leah, are visiting to celebrate Jolly’s birthday. This year feels a little different—at nine months pregnant, you’re more irritable than you’d like to admit. You do your best to keep a smile on your face and not dampen the mood. You adore your friends, but deep down, you’re counting the minutes until you can slip out of your clothes and crawl into bed.

As Jolly excitedly shares the name you’ve chosen for your daughter’s arrival with Noah, you rest a hand on your bump, letting out a deep breath. You stretch your back to ease the discomfort, your eyelids fluttering closed for just a moment. A soft groan escapes your lips, drawing all eyes to you.

Jolly’s warm brown eyes search your face as he rests a comforting hand on your knee, gently rubbing your leg. “You alright?” he asks softly. 

“Yep.” You slowly open your eyes, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Your daughter is just trying to reorganize my organs.”

Jolly chuckles, his hand moving to your belly as he lovingly rubs it, hoping to feel a kick. “Oh, she’s my daughter now, is she?” he teases. “Funny how that changed since this morning when she was all yours.”

Noah pushes his plate forward, his eyes lifting as he opens his mouth to speak. “So, have you settled on Aurora Karlsson, or are you hyphenating like your mom suggested?”

You smile through another contraction, the waves of discomfort growing closer together. You don’t want to alarm Jolly—his stress would only amplify your own.

“Aurora Rose Karlsson,” Jolly announces proudly. “Rose is for (Y/N)’s mother.”

Your eyes well up with tears. The thought of your mother, who’s no longer here, stirs a mix of emotions—joyful memories and the occasional spiral of grief. Pregnancy has heightened everything, leaving your feelings raw and unpredictable.

You dab at the corners of your eyes and rise from your seat. “I’m going to head to the other room,” you say, addressing the group. “I need to get into pajamas and lie down.”

“I’ll be in shortly,” Jolly murmurs, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you between his legs. “Let me know if you need anything.” You tilt your chin down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He jolts back suddenly, a look of surprise crossing his face as a tiny kick thumps against his chest. “Was that—”

You giggle. “Yeah, she’s probably wondering why I’m still upright.”

“Being a dad is going to be amazing,” Noah says with a grin. “You two are going to be incredible parents.”

“Hopefully, she doesn’t take after me,” you laugh. “I was a nightmare for my parents. God, I don’t want to deal with a miniature version of myself.” You rub your belly and add with a smirk, “And don’t be like your dad either… you’re not allowed to act like him until your late 20s—maybe even your 30s.”

Jolly chuckles, his hand gently rubbing the small of your back. “We’ll just send her to Uncle Noah when she’s naughty,” he teases.

Noah raises his hands in mock defense. “Nope! I get her when she’s in a good mood, and then I send her home full of sugar.”

“Shit,” you groan loudly, your breath hitching. “Joakim,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Either I just peed myself, or my water broke.” You lean on the table for support, your voice rising. “We need to go.”

The room erupts into chaos as the three of them scramble around, momentarily forgetting how to function. You take a steadying breath and calmly call out, “Jolly.”

He freezes mid-step, clutching the baby bag tightly. “Do you need anything else?” he asks, his wide eyes darting around the room. “Bag, clothes… water bottle.” Beads of sweat trickle down his forehead, dampening his hair as he anxiously scans the space.

“I need you to breathe,” you say, your breaths deep and measured. Taking his hands in yours, you press your chest to his. “Please, breathe.” You kiss his knuckles gently. “There’s a baby on the way, and I need you to help me get to the car.”

Jolly nods, snapping into action as he tosses Noah the car keys. “Drive.”

Noah doesn’t hesitate, heading straight for the front door with Leah. “I’ll get the car started,” he calls over his shoulder.

You grip Jolly’s arm, leaning heavily on him as he supports your weight and helps you waddle to the car. “Do you want to lie down?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.

You shake your head and climb into the car, settling in as Jolly slides in beside you. That’s when the contractions hit with a force you can’t describe—waves of pain that make you want to push this baby out right then and there. You swing your leg across the empty seat, leaning back against Jolly for support. He coos softly, holding your hand with all the tenderness he can muster, though you nearly crush his fingers in your grip.

The sounds escaping you are primal, almost otherworldly, as if an exorcism is taking place. “Drive faster!” you scream at Noah, your voice raw with urgency.

“Jolly,” you cry out, tears streaming down your face. “I swear, I never want to do this again!”

When you arrive at the hospital, Leah rushes inside to grab a wheelchair and notify the receptionist. “It’s okay, darling,” Jolly says, holding you steady. “Here.” He guides you into the wheelchair. “Sit.”

“Are you the father?” the receptionist asks.

“Yes,” he replies firmly, already pushing you down the hallway toward the room. “Look, my little bee, your doctor is waiting.”

You sigh with relief as Jolly helps you to your feet, guiding you out of your clothes and into the hospital gown. The doctor wastes no time, immediately beginning her examination.

“We need to get you pushing now,” she says with urgency. “That baby is ready. Honey, I know you wanted an epidural, but it’s too late. She’s coming.”

You nod, your voice strained. “Just get her out of me!”

Jolly grips your hand tightly, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“One more big push,” the doctor encourages.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you push with everything you have. A sudden release washes over your exhausted body, and then you hear it—the tiny, miraculous cries of your newborn. The sound soothes you instantly.

They gently place her on your chest, and tears blur your vision. You can hardly believe it—she’s finally here, warm and safe in your arms.

Jolly crouches beside you, his eyes filled with awe as he gazes at his daughter. Pride radiates from him, more than he’s ever felt before. “Baby, you did so well,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “She’s beautiful.”

After a few moments, the nurse gently guided Jolly through cutting the umbilical cord, his hands trembling slightly as he made the delicate snip. Then came her first bath, a tender ritual that left you mesmerized. Watching Jolly cradle his newborn daughter, his every movement filled with awe and care, was the most precious interaction you’d ever witnessed. Even though you’d sworn you’d never go through this again, you knew in your heart you’d endure it all over just to see that beautiful, admiring look on his face.

With the nurse’s help, Jolly carefully wrapped his daughter in a fresh blanket, his touch gentle yet protective. He stared down at her, still in disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the miracle in his arms. In that moment, he silently vowed to love and protect this tiny human with every fiber of his being.

“We’re parents,” you said softly as Jolly laid Aurora back in your arms.

“Who let that happen?” he teased, a playful grin breaking through his awe.

“Failed birth control,” you quipped with a smirk, “but let’s keep that to ourselves.” You ran your thumb tenderly down your daughter’s cheek, committing every detail of her tiny face to memory. “By the way, you’re a sexy dad.”

“Oh, thanks,” he replied with a chuckle. “Does this mean I can get a dad bod now and stop going to the gym?” He gently pulled back Aurora’s little hat, revealing a head of dark, silky hair. “Her hair is so dark,” he marveled, his smile widening.

“As long as she has the normal amount of fingers and toes, I don’t care what color her hair is,” you said with a yawn, leaning your head back. “Here,” you murmured, holding Aurora out to Jolly. “I need to close my eyes.”

Jolly gladly took her into his arms, his smile uncontrollable as he gazed at her. He carefully counted her tiny fingers, ensuring they were all there. When she instinctively grabbed hold of his finger, refusing to let go, his heart melted. He let out the softest “aw,” his voice filled with wonder.

It didn’t take long for Aurora to have him completely wrapped around her little finger. “I thought your mom would be the only keeper of my heart,” he whispered with a soft laugh, “but here you are, pulling at every string.” He gazed at her with pure adoration. “You’re the best birthday gift I could ever receive.”

As you drifted off, the sound of Jolly’s voice filled the room. He was telling Aurora all about his greatest hits in life, his tone warm and full of love. In that moment, you knew—Jolly was meant for this.

[kaliforniahigh]

Oooh you got any Jolly Thots?

But it would've been fun. If you would've been the one - jolly karlsson.

Oh, yeah. I got them!! If anyone wants to send in their Jolly thots, my ask is open!

Warning: this is very angsty and there is no happy ending :( Also smut (p in v). Jolly is kind of a jackass in this, sorry.

WC: 1.4k

Jolly had you on your kness, back pressed against his chest as he pounded into you from behind. You could feel his breath on your neck, and the feeling of his hand pulling on your ponytail.

It was always like this. He'd call you, tell you he's feeling lonely and longing for you. You'd tell him to come over, only to have your heart broken over and over again.

When he had you like this, though, it was like the feeling of rejection didn't exist for a while.

"You love this, don't you? Me inside of you", he murmured in your ear, you only moaned in response. There was a time when you entertained his praises, but not anymore. Instead, you wished he'd just fuck and stay quiet.

He lets your hair go and you fall on your hands on the bed. His pace picks up and you can tell he's close by the way he's gripping your hips. He starts rubbing circles on your clit, and you're right there with him.

You hate the it feels so good, you hate the way he always seems to know what to do get make you fall apart for him. The way he hits all the right spots.

You wish he was as good with feelings as he is fucking you.

Seconds later, he's spilling inside the condom, with a grunt. And your shaking underneath him, knees giving out as lay sprawled on your bed.

You both take a few seconds to recover, and the part you dread the most is about to happen. Again.

You can hear him going into the bathroom, to discard the condom and wash his hands, you guess. You stay on the bed, now laying on your back and pulling the covers up to your chest.

There was also a time when you felt comfortable with him seeing you naked on the back after you finished. Now, you just felt kind of cheap. With how detached you've both become, the only thing missing was him slapping a couple of tens on your bedside table before leaving.

"Folio is having a party on Saturday. He says he wants to celebrate his new collaboration with TAMA", he tells you as he pulls his boxers on.

"Yeah, he told me", you responded with a detached tone to your voice. Watching him redress.

"You going?", he asked you.

"I'll see"

He only hummed in response. Grabbing his wallet and looking back at you.

"I'll see you on Saturday then. If you go", he opened the door of your bedroom.

"Yeah"

On Saturday, you found yourself knocking on the door to the boys' house. You pondered a lot over the week if you even wanted to go. But decided that your little situationship with Jolly shouldn't drift you apart from your other friends.

Besides, you were determined to ignore him tonight.

You guessed he wasn't there yet when you arrived, because you surveyed the place, but didn't find him. Good, you hope he wouldn't come, you wished to yourself, but knew that wouldn't be true, because he wouldn't miss celebrating his friend.

You were actually enjoying yourself and talking to people around you. You had a drink in your hand, but wanted to stay mostly sober for the night. Before, there was no problem with you getting drunk and spending the night at Jolly's room. Now, it just felt like you were overstaying your welcome.

Maybe an hour after you arrived, you could see two people entering the living room, when you looked in their direction, it was as if the whole world stopped spinning and the room became completely still.

There he was, dressed in all black, with a beautiful girl hanging on his arm.

You obviously knew he was fucking around with other girls, but he never actually brought them over to their house. Also, the fact that a few days ago, he was in your bed, fucking you, and now he was here, with a new girl, made your stomach twist.

Before he had the chance to come any closer to where you were standing, you turned around and made your way upstairs to the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you as you tried to calm your heartbeat that was pounding in your chest. You desperatly tried to think of an excuse to leave this party right now. You shouldn't have come in the first place.

After a couple of minutes, you decided to leave and then shoot Folio a text apologizing. You already had the chance to congratulate him, so that wouldn't look too bad.

Slipping out from the bathroom, you made your way through the living room with your head down, not wanting anyone to see you. Opening the front door, your stepped into the slight breeze blowing outside.

Taking a deep breath, you started to walk down the street to where your car was parked.

"Y/N", you heard a familiar voice behind you, but you didn't turn around, you didn't acknowledge him.

"Hey, where are you going?", he tried again, picking up his pace this time and walking beside you.

"I'm going home", you said, voice flat and devoid of any emotion. You tried to keep yourself in check, because you were sure if you stayed here any longer, you'd start crying like an idiot.

"Why? The party has just started".

Could he really not understand why you were leaving? Was he this dense? Instead of feeling sad, you were now feeling angry at his obliviousness.

"Are you fucking serious? Are you actually this stupid or do you just like to pretend that you are, so you don't have to own up to your mistakes?", the anger in your voice and fire in your eyes made him take a step back.

"Are you talking about?", he was wary now, but his eyes told you he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Do you actually consider me your friend or do you just keep me around because I'm an easy fuck?", you were becoming tired of him dodging your questions.

"You're not an easy fuck. Please don't say it like that", he tried to take a step closer to you, but you took a step back, and he stayed in his place.

"Oh no? But you text me everytime already knowing I'll tell you to come over. You take advantage of the fact that you know I'm emotionally attached to you", you crossed your arms over your chest to try and protect your heart that was already broken in a million pieces.

"It was never supposed to be like this", he told you, and you desperately wanted him to stop making excuses.

"But it is. Next thing I know, you're going to be paying me for my services from how much a cheap transaction this has become"

Jolly just stood there, his eyes were wide and you could tell they were a little glossy from the way the light from the streetlamp hit his face.

"I'm so fucking sorry, You gotta believe me when I say I never meant to make you feel this way", his voice trembled a bit towards the end of his sentence. You could see a little glimpse of the old Jolly you met years ago.

"I'm not sure I believe anything that comes out of your mouth anymore", you stood your ground this time.

"I'm so fucking sorry", he looked down as he apologized to you. He couldn't even do it looking at your fucking face.

"Me too", you said as you fished your car keys from your pocket. "I'm going to delete your number, and I never want to speak to you ever again", now it was time for your voice to tremble. You were not only endind whatever you two had, but you were ending a friendship of years that developed into something neither of you could control or deal with. "Tell the boys I'll stop coming around"

With this last sentence, you turned around and walked the rest of the way to your car, now letting the tears fall freely from your eyes.

You unlocked your car and gor in the driver's seat. You told youself you wound't look back, but you couldn't helo but take a peek on the rear view mirror.

You Jolly sitting on the curb, you could tell his shoulders were shaking, and that his hands were covering his face.

Too bad, he should've shown some emotion all those times you desperately needed him to. With a shaky, deep sigh, you turned on your car and drove away from the most important people in your life.

[darksigns-exe]

35. you know where to find me - jolly karlsson x readder

warnings: handjobs (m receiving), oral sex (m receiving), swearing, a little bit of angst

word count: 1.3k

note: for @baddestomens 🩷

masterlist | (not so) secret prompt fics masterlist | taglist sign-up

You’ve known Jolly for ages. 

Seeing him this defeated actually broke your heart a little. You know how much hope he had placed into this fledgling relationship. Sure, you can’t imagine that dating someone with a schedule as packed as his is easy, but that doesn’t mean that he deserves to be shot down like that. 

He’d shown you the messages when he’d shown up at your door late at night. She hadn’t even managed to tell him in person that this couldn’t work no matter how hard we try – her words. 

Being the ever faithful friend you are, you had offered him the pull-out sofa in your living room for as long as he wanted it. You’d prepared everything for him, after you had ushered him into the bathroom, insisting that a shower would make him feel at least a little bit better. 

By the time he re-emerged from the bathroom, you had put one of your pillows and your comfiest duvet out for him. The crease is still present in his brow, but he looks a little less broken. 

You wrap him into a tight hug, not allowing any discussions. 

“Get some sleep. You know where to find me if you need me.” you tell him, trying not to sound as if you pity him too much. 

He mumbles a quiet thank you, before you leave him alone for the night. He knows your place well enough to not feel like a stranger, he’ll be okay. 

You can’t tell how late it is when the door to your bedroom opens with a creak. Jolly pushes into your room, quietly closing the door behind him. 

“Do you mind if I sleep here?” 

You scoot over, without giving him a reply. Jolly doesn’t make a move forward until you pat the now empty side of the bed.

He finds a comfortable spot quite quickly, only shifting around for a few moments. You can barely make out the features of his face in the dim light, but the frown on his face is still so very obvious.

“I don’t want to feel alone tonight.” he says quietly. 

In all the years you have known him, you’ve never seen him like this. 

You reach out, placing your hand against his cheek. Jolly practically sinks into your touch. Deep down, you know that you shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t even be thinking about this when he’s still hurting this much. 

You feel a hand curling around your waist. 

“Can I do something to help?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. 

You can’t deny that Jolly is attractive, he’s charming and caring and really everything you’re looking for. And maybe that had been part of the reason why you had never tried to move this into a different direction. He gets fawned over by so many people that little old you can’t be that impressive.

You’re his friend. 

Friends don’t touch each other like this, though. 

Jolly’s hand dips under your shirt. 

Your thoughts are a constant loop of we shouldn't we shouldn’t we shouldn’t.  

His hand flexes on your waist, “We shouldn’t” he says quietly. 

“I know.”  

His hand slowly moves upwards, as if he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop. But you can’t, and you know that you won’t ask him to stop. 

You force yourself to sit up eventually. For a moment, you think that he looks a little disappointed that you’re breaking away from him so quickly. 

“Will you let me do something for you?” you ask, trying to hide the shakiness of your voice, behind a brave face. 

“I – yes. Sure.” he sounds just as nervous as you feel. 

“On your back.” you say then, already moving yourself into position, “This is – it’s not crossing any lines. It’s just —”

“Just something between friends.” 

You swallow down the stinging. Without you needing to say anything about it, Jolly seems to know what you want from him. He quickly slips out of his sweats and underwear. You feel your insides heat when you let your eyes wander across his body. You’ve seen him without a shirt plenty of times. Seeing him entirely bare now makes your head spin. 

His eyes stay fixed on you when you trail your fingers up his thighs. You feel his skin prickle beneath your fingers, hairs standing upright in the wake of your touch. 

You finally build up the courage to wrap your hand around his cock. 

Jolly draws in a sharp breath, and you can’t help but smile a little. 

His skin is warm under your palm. With a little spit, you soon find a comfortable rhythm. You keep your movements slow, trying to draw things out just a little bit. It’s selfish, really, but watching his breath quicken with every pass of your hand over the head of his cock is just too delicious. His staggered breathing quickly turns into moans. Jolly rubs a hand across his face, while the other grips into the duvet next to him. 

“Fuck, your hand feels so good.” he groans. 

You drag your thumb across the tip, smearing the precum that has leaked from his across his skin. His hips buck up against your hand so desperately. You almost want to give in and ask him if he needs more, but having this man at your mercy is just too good of a sight. 

You decide to keep one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, while the other works across his length in slow, steady movements. From the sounds he makes, it must be just enough to keep him on the edge, but not enough for him to finish. And that’s exactly where you intend to keep him for the moment. 

His sighs and groans fill your head with fuzz. You briefly consider slipping a hand between your thighs, but ultimately decide that this moment is just about him. 

“Getting close?” you ask after a while. 

You’re happy to keep touching him like this, but you also don’t want to turn a good thing bad. 

“Just a little more. I’m so close.” 

He sounds as if he’s barely keeping himself together at this point. If he wants more, you’ll give him more. You lean down, dragging the flat of your tongue across his tip. 

In response, Jolly draws in a shaky gasp. 

You had hoped that he’d react like that. You repeat the motion, until you’ve built up the courage to take him between your lips. It doesn’t take a lot of this for him to fall over the edge. 

Jolly spills across your tongue. The groans that fall from his lips are interrupted by curses in his native tongue. You can feel his thighs flex around you as he struggles against the instinct to push his hips upwards. 

You’re just as breathless when you pull away from him. 

His head is tipped back, his neck exposed so beautifully. 

You untangle yourself from him, returning to your original position next to him. Jolly stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, before he finally looks at you. 

“Thank you, dear. Fuck that was – that was so good.” 

His chest heaves, as he comes down from his high. You don’t think that he’s ever been more beautiful. 

“Always happy to help out.” you offer. 

The wording feels so clumsy, but you suddenly don’t know how to move on from this situation. In the corner of your vision, you can just see Jolly struggling back into his underwear. Once he’s done, he flips onto his side, patting the spot in front of him. 

“Come here, will you?” he asks softly. 

You can’t possibly say no to him. 

As soon as you’re within reach, he wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you even closer against him. 

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. You might have to give me a little while to get over this, but – I don’t think that this has to be a one time thing. If you want that.” 

His hand is so warm and comfortable on your belly, it eases the rabbit quick beat of your heart at least a little. 

“Try to get some sleep. We have all the time in the world.”

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

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[sitkowski]

worship ( jolly karlsson x ofc reece )

pairing: jolly karlsson x reece (oc) cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ rough oral sex, finger sucking, ring kink, dacryphilia, semi public sex. word count: 906 author's note: brain got broken, this is the result. title comes from the song by vana and magnolia park. ty to @concretejunglefm and @ladyveronikawrites for the encouragement! divider by @saradika-graphics

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || read on ao3

Jolly finds Reece by the van, and he’s honestly surprised that she stuck around after the show. They’re still in the early stages of dating and sometimes they still find ways to snipe at each other. The end results are always fun, regardless. And he thinks that she’s putting on an act with how annoyed she is, leaning up against the back doors and scrolling through her phone like she’s bored.

“You lost? " he asks, leaning heavily beside her.

She looks up at him, and he can see this act that she’s putting on doesn’t quite reach her eyes. He sees the love there. Still, she sighs heavily, locking her phone and putting it into her bag. “You’re not at the party?”

“Well you’re over here hiding like a hermit so I figured you were waiting for something,” she narrows her eyes at him, fighting back a smile. “If you’re looking for something, you’ve gotta use your words. We do that now, remember?”

Reece finally breaks, laughing a little before turning her body until she’s pressed up against him. There are still people around, but that doesn’t stop his hands from wandering, sliding down over her hip to the curve of her ass over the top of her skirt.

“Are they waiting for us at this party?” she asks. Before he can answer, she’s reaching down between them, fingers closing around his cock through his jeans. Reece lets out a mocking gasp when she feels that he’s half hard already. “You want me to take care of this for you?”

He brings his hand up to clamp on the curve of her throat, not choking her, just holding her and letting her feel the press of his rings the way she likes. He reaches beside them, opening the van door before giving her a gentle shove inside. He’s sure he’ll get shit about this later but he doesn’t care. The second he pulls the door closed behind them, Reece crawls over him, kissing him deep and slow and a little dirty. When he pulls back and presses his fingers to her mouth, she hums and lets him push them over her tongue, until the edges of his rings are against her lips. She sucks in his fingers, letting out an eager noise as spit slides down around the metal.

“Apparently you should come watch us play more often if this is the reaction.”

Reece rolls her eyes at him, letting her teeth dig into his fingers before she spits them out, moving down his body. Jolly’s a little in awe as he watches the way she drapes herself over him, rubbing her cheek against him through his jeans and he rubs his fingers still wet with her saliva over her cheek before undoing his pants for her.

“This is the part where you say thank you,” she murmurs as she reaches into his boxers and pulls out his cock. He doesn’t say anything at first, and she raises her eyebrows, brushing her thumb across the head as she waits. “Well?”

“Thank you, baby,” he breathes out, suddenly wanting nothing more than her mouth on him.

His hands brush her hair out of her face, pulling it up into a makeshift ponytail in one fist as she runs her tongue up along the underside of his cock. His head falls back as she sucks him in and takes him as deep as she can right off the bat. He uses the hold on her hair to guide her, and she hums around him. He holds her head still and fucks up into her mouth, snapping his hips as a growl crawls out of his throat. They can still sometimes act like they hate each other, but he's never loved her more and he tells her so, words of praise falling out of his mouth as she purposely chokes herself on his cock. The sounds are obscene in the enclosed space of the van, and it's not lost on him that anyone could find them like this.

She pulls off, hand sliding through the mix of spit and precome as she jerks him off, eyes never leaving his face.

"You're looking at me like you're in love with me," she teases. Tears have streaked her makeup down her face.

"I am," he says, nodding eagerly. "You're so beautiful like this. Please, don't stop."

He's become putty in her hands, and he knows that she likes the power he's handed over to him. Humming thoughtfully, she takes him back in. He reaches down and cups her jaw, feeling his cock through her cheek.

When he spills into her mouth an embarrassingly quick amount of time later, she sticks out her tongue, stroking him to get every last drop from him. It's the prettiest thing he's ever seen, watching as she swallows it all and licks her lips when she's done. Reaching down, Jolly guides her back up his torso and kisses her. His hands start to reach for the hem of her skirt, fully intending on returning the favor, but a hand smacks against the side of the van, startling them both.

"You better not be fucking around in here!" Matt yells, and Reece bursts out laughing, pressing her face into Jolly's chest.

“Raincheck?” Jolly asks as she moves back enough for him to fix his clothes.

She nods, leaning down to kiss him again. “You better believe it.”

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