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Masterlist
My stories, my thoughts! I prohibit any use of these on other sites and any other publication.
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These stories are a complete work of fiction portraying a real person or persons in a fictional situation.
One Shots
Ride through an Autumn night
Pairing: Jolly x Alice (angst, grief, fluff)
Anything More Than Human
Pairing: Demon! Jolly x Harriet (smut, fluff) Halloween special
Series
Once in a lifetime
Pairing: Joakim x Mina
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN
SNIPPET
MOON HILL
A Bad Omens Fanfiction
TEASER MOON HILL
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN
SNIPPET - OUTTAKE
Killing me softly
Hitman!Jolly - Part 1 completed
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EPILOGUE
Shadow Warrior
Hitman! Jolly - Part 2
ONE ´TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN
BAD OMENS AT INKCARCERATION FESTIVAL
source: Inkcarcerationfestival
𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘/𝐍 𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝟑:𝟑𝟑 𝐀.𝐌. 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝟒:𝟑𝟑 𝐀.𝐌., 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧.
𝐖𝐂: 𝟏.𝟏𝐊
*𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬, (𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭) 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡'𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞. *𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝
You had just moved into the city of Richmond, Virginia.
More specifically a more- an eerie part of the city.Your aunt- an aunt you have no recollection of, had just passed and left you her old Victorian home.
Everyone you crossed warned you.
“Get out while you can.”
“That house- It's haunted.”
“You're making a mistake.”
Yet, you made no attempt to leave. You figured they were trying to scare you off for no apparent reason.
That was until a week after living in your new home.
Every night the lights wouldn't turn on, you've changed the light bulbs three times within seven days, and it still won't turn on past eight p.m.
And your flashlight stopped working all of a sudden, no matter how much you change the batteries.
And one night- you made the unfortunate mistake of staying up.
It was 3:30 a.m.
And suddenly the grandfather clock started to chime.
You let out a startled gasp, you were under the impression that the clock had stopped working years ago.
The piano started to play on its own, you didn't want to get out of bed- it was as if you were in a horror film.
You took a deep breath to calm yourself and you took a slow and hesitant step out of bed.
As you walked towards the common room of the house, the music being played on the piano grew in both volume and speed.
You made your way to the piano and watched in shock as the keys moved on their own, as if a professional pianist was playing it.
Your eyes were pried to the piano as you walked to a lamp, praying it'll magically turn on.
3:32 a.m.
The light bulb of the lamp you were attempting to configure, exploded.
Yes, exploded.
You let out a yelp and ran to the kitchen looking for the flashlight with small but noticeable pieces of glass in your arm.
You grabbed the flashlight and cried, throwing it in frustration as you remembered it doesn't work anymore.
The piano stopped.
3:33 a.m.
Sobs.
Broken heartfelt sobs.
But they weren't coming from you- no, the noise was…behind you?
You turned around in an instant, just to be greeted with a human-like entity standing at 6’2”.
Your eyes went wide and no noise was able to escape your lips.
“You aren't supposed to be here.” It cried.
Your breathing grew heavier as you backed up, the further you walked away, the louder it's wailing got.
How?
You blinked and it was gone. And then you felt breathing on your neck, you cried and slowly turned around to the still sobbing creature.
“What do you want from me?” You asked- it was more of a terrified whimper.
You were unable to make eye contact with the crying creature, and then it spoke once more.
“For you to leave.”
You almost forgot about the glass shards in your arm, until the ghost's eyes landed on your bleeding arm, the blood starting to slowly dry.
Its eyes went wide, unable to look away from the blood. It swiped its finger on the blood- it hasn't fully dried yet.
It licked the blood off of its finger and closed its eyes in pleasure.
It's crying has finally calmed, though your breathing remains heavy.
You whimpered, not daring to move whatsoever.
The glass seemed more and more painful as the time went by. But time had gone by so quickly. It's almost been a whole hour.
Noah's eyes widen as he realizes what time it is.
4:32 a.m.
He quickly puts his hand on the glass that's in your arm and makes eye contact with you as you wince in pain.
4:33 a.m.
And he's…gone?
What just happened?
You look down at your arm, the throbbing pain of the glass no longer there. And that's because the glass isn't in your arm anymore.
Did he have something to do with that?
You look around, searching for a sign of him before stumbling back into your bedroom.
This has to be a dream. You tell yourself. There's no way this isn't! Ghosts aren't real!
You laid back down and closed your eyes, but you were unable to fall back asleep. You tossed and turned.
He was still here, you were just oblivious.
You can't see him now, you can only see him in a certain timeframe.
3:33 a.m. to 4:33 a.m.
But why so specific?
He's watching.
A week has passed since that night, you've failed to stay awake that late again.
You've done some research on your home. The entire time your aunt was living in this house, it was under someone else's name.
Noah Sebastian Davis.
He was the previous homeowner- there were no files on your aunt.
But how? This was her house!
Out of curiosity you decided to Google search the man's name and an obituary appeared along multiple newsletters and a band called Bad Omens.
First, you clicked the obituary:
“Noah Sebastian Davis, known for being the lead vocalist in the moderately popular ‘metalcore’ band, Bad Omens…”
“His death was ruled as a suicide but some suspect it was a murder…”
“He passed away on October 12th, approximately at 3 am.”
“May Noah now rest in peace…”
You tilted your head as you read. A murder disguised as a suicide?
An awful image appeared in your head before your eyes went wide- You thought of your aunt- No! She wouldn't kill someone! Although…this house was never in her name- No!
You then did research on the band Bad Omens.
You stayed up for hours learning about the band and attempting to learn more about his death.
You have to know what happened.
Was your aunt involved?
Was that the man you saw?
Was it truly a suicide?
3:31 a.m.
You wake to the grandfather clock, chiming louder than it did last time.
Your eyes widen in realization. It wasn't a dream last night, your hands reach for your phone on the nightstand and you check the time, light of the screen making your eyes flutter at the sudden intrusion.
You get out of bed and go to the kitchen, where you saw him last time.
3:32 a.m.
The piano starts to play again, a hauntingly, eerie, melody.
Then- everything stops.
Has it really been 60 seconds?
Yes. Yes it has.
3:30 a.m.
The sobs appear behind you again.
“Are…are you Noah?”
The sobbing comes to an abrupt end and you turn around, facing the creature.
“Noah Sebastian?” You ask.
“How?” He asks. “How do you remember me?”
His sobbing starts up again.
“No one remembers me. No one's supposed to remember me.”
“Everyone remembers you. You're not some memory that fades away.” You whisper.
“Why are you still here, Noah? What is the truth?”
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nefugus, @just-a-ghost-girl, @novainpolaroids, @icybansheesoul, @platespaghetti, @c0ncrete-jungle, @ami-gami, @mushroommelody1, @theservantbones, @lilith-jae, @anything-morethan-human, @hannahvanvelzor, @ethelsbaby, @babeomens, @sleepycactus-omens, @itsfarbettertolearn, @alwaysfightforwhoyouare, @heavilyfadingpower, @mrslumi, @amelia-acero, @concretejunglefm, @fear-its-beauty, @runningincircl3s, @fadingintothegrey, @branika182, @evrythngistkn, @klarisssahardy, @thefountainn
𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫: @unendeared2
@/r3prise fics
𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 <3
I was born into a one hundred year storm
Mob!Jolly Karlsson AU x female reader
Your father owns a LOT of money to Bad Omens , but what did you know ? Your just working your ass off at your family’s diner …
CHAPTER 1 coming soon
Trouble Is... Pt.32
Besties, I hope you all have been good. I apologize for going MIA. I've had this story done and written but the thought of editing and posting just wasn't appealing during the mental state I was in. I've been working on my Noah fic as well so hopefully that'll start getting posted as well. I'm holding hope that going to inkarceration and seeing the boys relights the fire under my ass because honestly, I miss writing and miss you all. There's a couple chapters left of this fic that I'm going to try and read and edit through today and just queue it. 🖤
Mornings at the Karlsson house were never quiet.
Not properly.
Not even when everyone claimed they were tired.
Especially not when four specific men had just come home from tour and brought the usual aftermath with them; half-dead bodies, bags dropped in places they didn’t belong, shoes abandoned near doorways, wrappers left beside couches, and voices carrying through the house at odd hours because none of them ever remembered how to exist at a normal volume after weeks of venues, buses, hotels, and stage monitors.
Usually, the first morning back carried its own strange rhythm.
Someone would wake too early because their body didn’t understand they were home yet. Someone else would stumble into the kitchen half-asleep and open the fridge like answers lived inside it. Noah would text the family group chat something unhelpful at seven in the morning because he was awake and believed that meant everyone else should suffer with him. Folio usually appeared later, either with Freja or texting Freja, and Nicholas acted like he was above everyone else’s nonsense despite enabling at least half of it.
And Jolly?
Jolly usually came downstairs somewhere between annoyed and exhausted, hair a mess, face unreadable, looking for coffee and pretending he wasn’t happy to be home.
This morning, though?
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Mrs. Karlsson noticed it almost immediately.
She had woken before the sun fully warmed the yard, moving through her morning routine with the ease of someone who had spent years learning how to appreciate stillness before everyone else ruined it.
She opened the curtains, started a small load of towels, checked the back door out of habit, then stepped outside to grab the mail, robe pulled around her shoulders against the slight chill.
The driveway was the first thing that caught her attention.
Jolly’s car wasn’t there.
She paused on the front walk with the mail tucked under one arm, eyes narrowing slightly.
Not there.
Interesting.
Her mouth twitched. Not quite a smile yet. Not until she walked back inside.
The moment she entered the kitchen, her steps slowed.
The sticky note was gone from the fridge. The dishes were washed and drying neatly in the drainer. The microwave door sat closed, empty, with no plate inside.
No mess. No forgotten fork in the sink. No half-eaten food abandoned because her son had been too lost in his own head to finish.
No. He had eaten, washed everything, taken the note, and left.
Mrs. Karlsson stood in the middle of her kitchen for a long, silent moment.
Then she reached over and turned the coffee pot on.
“Well,” she said softly to the empty room, “it’s about damn time, Joakim.”
The coffee maker gurgled to life.
She moved slowly after that, taking down her favorite mug, adding cream, stirring once before carrying it out onto the back porch.
Morning wrapped around the yard in pale gold.
The grass still held dew. The fence looked darker where moisture clung to the wood. Birds moved through the trees near the back corner, chattering like they had gossip to spread.
Mrs. Karlsson leaned against the porch railing and sipped her coffee, letting the warmth settle through her hands first, then her chest.
If her hunch was right, her son was exactly where he should have been years ago.
She didn’t call. Didn’t text. Didn’t march over there demanding answers, even though a younger, more impatient version of herself may have been tempted.
This wasn’t hers to interrupt.
Not after all these years. Not after watching both of them ache in different directions, circling the same truth until everyone else had gotten exhausted from witnessing it.
She smiled into her mug.
“Finally,” she murmured.
And the word disappeared into the morning like a prayer that had waited too long to be answered.
Jolly woke slowly.
Not all at once.
Not the abrupt kind of waking that came on tour when someone slammed a bunk door or laughed too loudly two feet away from his head.
This was different.
Warm. Heavy.
His body ached in a way that made his brain catch before the rest of him did.
A good ache.
The kind that lived in muscles, in shoulders, in the back, in places that remembered being held too tightly and holding back just enough not to lose control completely.
His eyes stayed closed for another second.
He shifted slightly. Reached automatically. The bed beside him was empty.
Panic surfaced fast.
Too fast.
Sharp enough to drag him fully awake.
His eyes opened. For half a second, he didn’t know where he was.
Not his ceiling. Not his bed. Not his room. Not his house.
Then everything came back in pieces: her porch, her tears, his confession spilling out of him like he hadn’t been able to survive one more second with it trapped inside, her hands on his chest, her mouth against his, her telling him her bed was an option, and clothes were not exactly mandatory.
The way she looked at him under the warm glow of her bedside lamp like he was both wanted and forgiven, even though he still couldn’t understand how he deserved either.
Jolly exhaled slowly and let his head fall back against the pillow.
Y/N’s pillow.
Her room. Her apartment. Her bed.
His chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t panic.
Not exactly.
It was something softer and harder to survive.
He turned his head toward the clock on her nightstand.
Late morning.
Too late for her to still be home on a workday.
Y/N should’ve been at the shop by now.
The thought sank quickly.
Maybe she left him a note. Maybe she didn’t want to wake him. Maybe she regretted it once daylight came and all that midnight honesty turned real.
He pushed himself up on one elbow, the blanket slipping to his waist.
Then he smelled it.
Coffee and bacon.
Jolly froze.
Y/N wasn’t at work.
His head turned toward the bedroom door.
The apartment was quiet except for faint movement in the kitchen. A cabinet closing softly. Something sizzling. Her voice humming under her breath, low enough he couldn’t place the song but familiar enough that his chest tightened around it anyway.
She was here.
She stayed.
Or she came back.
Either way, she hadn’t disappeared.
Jolly sat there for another few seconds, letting that settle into him before finally swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
His sweatpants were on the floor near the door. His shirt was somewhere else entirely.
He rubbed a hand over his face, smiling faintly despite the exhaustion still clinging to him.
Then he grabbed the sweats, pulled them on, and headed out.
The hallway carried the smell of coffee stronger now, mixed with bacon and something sweet; maybe cinnamon rolls, maybe whatever she had decided counted as breakfast because Y/N had always treated breakfast like it was either a sacred ritual or a last-minute disaster.
There was no middle.
When he stepped into the kitchen, he stopped.
She stood at the stove wearing his shirt and her little shorts, hair twisted up into a messy bun that looked like it had been done with zero intention beyond getting it out of her face.
Bare legs. Sleepy eyes. No makeup.
One hand on a spatula, the other wrapped around a mug of coffee like it was life support.
His shirt swallowed her the way his clothes always did, falling loose off one shoulder.
For a second, Jolly forgot what he was about to say.
Y/N glanced over her shoulder. “Morning.”
That one word nearly folded him in half.
Morning.
Like this was normal. Like he hadn’t spent years trying not to imagine exactly this. Like the sight of her in his clothes cooking breakfast in her kitchen after the night they had wasn’t going to permanently damage his ability to function.
Jolly leaned a shoulder against the wall. “You’re supposed to be at work.”
Y/N flipped the bacon before answering. “Nick closed the shop for a family emergency.”
Jolly blinked, his eyes immediately scanned her face. “Family emergency?”
She waved the spatula slightly. “I am the family emergency.”
Jolly stared at her.
Y/N took one look at his expression and laughed.
Actually laughed.
Soft and bright and just a little smug.
And God, he missed that sound.
“Before you panic, I’m fine,” she said, pointing the spatula at him. “Nick said, and I quote, ‘It has been weeks of fucking hell on this tour. Either you two are going to willingly spend the day figuring your shit out, or I’m making it fucking hostile and locking you two in the back room closet tomorrow and blasting music so no one can hear and become unwilling casualties.’”
Jolly’s mouth parted slightly, then closed. Then he looked toward the ceiling like he needed divine patience. “Of course he did.”
“He was very clear.”
“I’m sure.”
“He also said he deserves financial compensation for emotional labor.”
Jolly huffed a laugh and stepped farther into the kitchen. “That sounds even more like him.”
Y/N smiled softer then, the teasing settling into something warmer.
“He said he’d keep it quiet, though. To everyone else. Especially when I told him you were already here.”
Jolly’s eyes found hers.
“So no one was bothering us while we got to enjoy the day now that we weren’t being stupid.”
The kitchen went quiet for a second; the kind where both of them understood what was being offered.
Time.
Space.
A pocket before the world came barging in with questions and screaming and Freja most likely crying, yelling, hugging, and threatening him in alternating order.
Jolly nodded slowly. “So no one else has a clue?”
Y/N shook her head. “Nope.”
He studied her.
“Not Freja?”
“No.”
“She hasn’t called you six times?”
“I turned my phone on silent after I got off the phone with Nick.”
“Coward.”
“Absolutely.”
He laughed quietly and walked toward her.
Y/N turned back to the stove like she wasn’t fully aware of every step he took.
But she was.
He could see it in the way her shoulders shifted. The way her fingers tightened slightly around the spatula. The way she kept her attention very deliberately on the bacon even after he came up behind her.
Jolly stopped close enough that his warmth brushed her back but didn’t touch fully yet. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
The question changed the air immediately.
Y/N set the spatula down carefully beside the stove and turned the burner lower.
She didn’t answer right away.
That alone was an answer.
Jolly’s face softened. “Baby.”
Her eyes closed briefly at the word.
Still not used to it. Still deeply affected by it.
“I’m okay,” she said eventually.
Then she turned around slowly.
He was close. Too close and not close enough.
Her back rested lightly against the counter, and he stood in front of her shirtless, hair messy, eyes tired, looking at her like the entire morning depended on whether she told the truth.
Y/N sighed softly. “I’m… a lot of things.”
Jolly nodded once. “That makes more sense.”
A small smile tugged at her mouth.
“I’m happy.”
His chest eased slightly.
“I’m scared.”
His chest tightened again.
“I’m overwhelmed.”
“Yeah.”
“And I keep waiting for my brain to catch up,” she admitted. “Because last night doesn’t feel real yet.”
Jolly looked down at her, guilt flickering across his face almost instantly.
“Does it feel bad?”
“No,” she said immediately.
Firm enough his eyes lifted back to hers.
“No,” she repeated softer. “It doesn’t feel bad.”
His shoulders eased a little.
“It feels…” She searched for the word, brows pulling together. “Like if I move too fast, I’ll wake up and realize I made the whole thing up.”
That hit him hard.
Jolly’s hand lifted slowly; his fingers brushed the side of her face, then slid gently beneath her jaw.
“You didn’t.”
Y/N looked up at him.
“I’m here.”
She swallowed.
“I know.”
“I’m not going anywhere today.”
Her eyes softened immediately.
“Nick really did trap us, huh?”
“Seems like it.”
“Emotionally held hostage by the tattoo shop owner.”
“Sounds on brand.”
She laughed softly again, but this time it trembled slightly around the edges.
Jolly heard it.
His thumb brushed gently along her cheek.
“Come here.”
Y/N didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward immediately and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his bare chest.
Jolly closed his eyes as his arms came around her.
The contact settled something in him instantly.
He held her carefully at first, then tighter when she melted into him.
The kitchen still smelled like coffee and bacon and the cinnamon rolls he thought he smelled. The counter was cluttered with plates and mugs and a paper towel she had ripped unevenly from the roll. Her hair tickled his chin. His shirt bunched under his forearms as he held her.
It should’ve been ordinary.
Domestic.
Small.
Instead, it felt like being handed something he’d wanted for years and almost ruined before he knew how to name it.
Y/N turned her face slightly against his chest. “I thought you’d be gone when I woke up.”
His arms tightened before he could stop them. “What?”
She shrugged lightly, but he felt the tension beneath it. “Not because I thought you’d sneak out,” she clarified quickly. “Just… I don’t know. My brain was being stupid.”
“Your brain was being scared.”
“Fine. That.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I woke up and thought you left, if that makes you feel better.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “Really?”
He nodded. “Bed was empty. I panicked like an idiot for about three seconds.”
Her expression softened. “I was going to leave a note.”
“Please don’t.”
The words came faster than he meant them to.
Y/N blinked.
Jolly exhaled softly, eyes lowering.
“I know you didn’t mean anything by the note last night,” he said. “And it was sweet. It was very you. But seeing it and realizing I missed you by minutes fucked me up.”
Her face shifted with understanding. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” He shook his head immediately. “Don’t be. Just… if you have to leave, tell me. Wake me up. Text me. Throw something at my head. I don’t care.”
A tiny smile pulled at her mouth. “Throwing something feels most authentic to us.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”
They stayed there for another minute before the bacon popped loudly in the pan.
Y/N flinched slightly. “Shit.”
Jolly released her reluctantly and watched as she turned back around to finish breakfast.
He should have helped.
Instead, he stood there watching her move around the kitchen in his shirt, and the sight did something stupid to his chest.
Y/N glanced over after a second. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was a very loud nothing.”
He smiled faintly. “I’ve watched you cook in my hoodies hundreds of times.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“And apparently I was not emotionally equipped to handle it turning into my shirt instead this morning.”
Her cheeks warmed instantly. “Jolly.”
“What?”
“You can’t just say things like that while I’m trying not to burn bacon.”
“Why?”
“Because then I will burn bacon.”
He stepped in again, crowding her just enough to reach around and take the spatula.
“Then let me.”
He nudged her gently aside with his hip. She allowed it, though she made a dramatic, offended sound.
Jolly took over the pan while she iced the cinnamon rolls and sipped her coffee.
For a minute, neither said anything.
It felt strange how easily silence fit now.
Not awkward. Not uncertain. Just a new air wrapped around it.
Y/N watched him from the side, eyes tracing his face while he focused on not ruining breakfast.
He noticed without looking. “You’re staring.”
“Yes.”
“No denial?”
“Not anymore.”
His mouth twitched. “That’s dangerous.”
“I’m learning.”
“Apparently.”
She took another sip of coffee, then asked quietly, “Did you sleep okay?”
Jolly’s hand stilled briefly on the spatula.
He looked over at her.
“For the few hours I slept?”
“Yeah.”
His expression softened. “Best I’ve slept in weeks.”
Y/N looked down at her mug. “Me too.”
That answer settled between them with more weight than either expected.
Because they both knew why.
It wasn’t the exhaustion. Not just that, anyway.
It was finally being close; no pretending, no reaching for things that smelled like someone who wasn’t there, no sleeping in empty rooms and calling it coping.
Jolly turned the stove off and moved the bacon to a plate.
“Did you sleep in my bed every night?”
Y/N’s fingers tightened around her mug.
He regretted asking immediately. Not because he didn’t want to know. Because her face went guarded for half a second.
“Not every night,” she finally said softly.
Jolly nodded slowly. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” She set the mug down. “I didn’t go there with the intention of sleeping in your bed.”
“I know,” he repeated softly.
“The first night was bad,” she admitted. “After Emma.”
His jaw tightened automatically at the name.
Y/N noticed. “It’s okay.”
“It’s really not.”
She gave him a look.
He exhaled and leaned back against the counter. “Sorry.”
“I went back over because Freja didn’t want me alone,” she continued. “Your mom made tea. Freja tried distracting me. I acted fine until everyone went to bed.”
Jolly’s face fell.
“And then I couldn’t sleep.” Her voice stayed quiet. “I walked past your room and just… went in.”
His throat tightened.
“I sat on the floor first.”
Jolly remembered Freja saying that. Remembered the image his brain had conjured. It hurt worse hearing Y/N confirm it.
“I was going to leave,” she said. “But your room still smelled like you. And I was tired. And sad. And I know it probably sounds so fucking pathetic—”
“It doesn’t.”
She glanced up.
His voice was rougher now. “It doesn’t sound fucking pathetic.”
Y/N stared at him for a second before nodding faintly. “I fell asleep against the bed.”
Jolly closed his eyes briefly.
“Your mom found me.”
“She covered you.”
Y/N’s lips trembled slightly. “She woke me up, and I just crawled into your bed like it was normal.”
He stepped closer without thinking. This time she didn’t need to move first. His arms went around her, and she let herself lean in.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.
“You don’t have to apologize for every part.”
“I think I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I hate that you were hurting like that.”
She nodded against him. “I know.”
He held her quietly.
The coffee sat forgotten. Breakfast cooled slightly on the counter.
Neither cared.
After a minute, Y/N pulled back just enough to look at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“You really told Emma not to come near me?”
Jolly’s jaw worked slightly. “Yeah.”
Y/N studied him carefully. “Why?”
The answer sat there, obvious and heavy, but he still had to say it. “Because I knew she’d see you.”
Y/N frowned. “What does that mean?”
Jolly looked down briefly, then back at her. “It means I knew if she was around you, she’d know.”
Her expression softened.
“I was scared she’d see what I couldn’t hide anymore,” he admitted. “That all she had to do was watch me around you or hear someone talk about you long enough, and she’d realize she never actually had me the way I tried to give her.”
Y/N’s chest tightened.
“And I didn’t want her hurting you because of it.”
“But she did.”
His face twisted. “Yeah.”
Y/N reached up slowly and touched his cheek. “You didn’t make her do that.”
“No,” he admitted. “But I gave her enough to aim with.”
“Maybe.”
He looked at her sharply.
She shrugged. “I’m not going to lie and tell you that part didn’t hurt.”
“I know.”
“It did.” Her voice lowered. “A lot.”
Jolly nodded, swallowing hard.
“But she didn’t win.”
He froze.
Y/N smiled faintly. “She wanted me to feel like I didn’t know you. Like everything I knew was weird or wrong or too much.”
Jolly’s eyes softened with anger and hurt all at once.
“She tried.”
“And?”
Y/N tilted her head slightly. “I knew your favorite meals better than she knew where the bathroom was.”
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
There she was.
His girl.
Still bruised. Still healing. Still capable of landing a perfect hit with a straight face.
Y/N’s smile grew slightly. “She underestimated me.”
“She really did.”
“I was polite, though.”
“I heard you obliterated her.”
“Politely, though.”
“Of course.”
“I’m very classy.”
Jolly looked down at her oversized shirt and sleep shorts. “Extremely.”
She narrowed her eyes, catching his stare. “Careful.”
“What? I love this outfit.”
“You better.”
“It’s mostly mine.”
“Exactly.”
He laughed softly and leaned down to kiss her.
It was brief. Gentle. Enough to make both of them pause afterward because neither had adjusted to the fact they could just do that now.
Y/N blinked slowly. “That’s going to take getting used to.”
“What?”
“You kissing me.”
Jolly’s hand slid around her waist. “Should I stop?”
“No.”
Immediate. So immediate his lips twitched.
“No?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
He kissed her again, longer this time.
Still soft. Still morning-slow.
Her hands slid up his chest, and his fingers tightened at her waist, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him fully.
For a moment, breakfast didn’t matter.
The shop didn’t matter. Their phones didn’t matter. The fact nobody else knew didn’t matter.
It was just them in her kitchen with coffee cooling behind them and the whole day unexpectedly belonging to them.
When they pulled apart, Y/N’s cheeks were flushed.
Jolly brushed his thumb along her lower lip absentmindedly. “We should eat.”
“We should.”
Neither moved.
Y/N laughed quietly. “This is going to be a problem.”
“It absolutely is.”
“Nick may have made a mistake giving us privacy.”
“Nick makes a lot of mistakes.”
“He closed my workplace.”
“For a noble cause.”
“He called us a family emergency.”
Jolly smiled softly. “He wasn’t wrong.”
Y/N’s teasing expression faded into something warmer.
“No,” she whispered. “He wasn’t.”
They finally plated breakfast and took it to her small kitchen table.
It was cramped compared to the Karlsson kitchen: two chairs, one plant in the window that had somehow survived despite Y/N frequently forgetting it existed, a stack of mail pushed to one side, a half-burned candle in the center because she claimed that lighting candles while eating made even cereal feel fancy.
Jolly sat across from her, and for the first few minutes, they ate in comfortable silence.
He watched her steal a piece of bacon off his plate without asking.
His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.
Y/N froze, bacon between her fingers. “What?”
Jolly stared at her. Then slowly smiled.
Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
“You just stole from my plate.”
She blinked. Then looked at the bacon, then back at him. “I did.”
His smile widened slightly.
Y/N’s face softened when she realized why it mattered.
Because for weeks, she hadn’t.
She had stopped reaching. Stopped stealing. Stopped taking up space.
And now here she was again, taking food off his plate like it was her right. Like maybe some part of them could still be found beneath the wreckage.
She set the bacon back dramatically. “Sorry.”
Jolly immediately pointed at her. “Don’t you dare.”
Her mouth twitched. “I thought you hated when I did that.”
“I lied.”
Y/N’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “For years?”
“Apparently.”
She slowly picked the bacon back up and ate it while maintaining direct eye contact.
Jolly laughed. Real laughter this time.
Not broken. Not bitter. Just him.
The sound filled the kitchen so suddenly Y/N almost started crying again.
He noticed that too.
His smile softened. “Come here.”
She shook her head, wiping quickly under one eye. “I’m eating.”
“You’re crying into bacon and a cinnamon roll.”
“I’m emotional and hungry. Women can multitask.”
Jolly stood anyway, walking around the table and pulling her gently out of her chair.
She protested weakly, but it held no force.
He sat down in her chair and tugged her onto his lap.
The familiarity of it hit them both at once.
How many times had she sat in his lap before? At parties. During movie nights. At his parents’ house, when seating ran out and she decided his legs counted as furniture.
Always casual. Always dismissed as “just them.”
Now her body settled over his thighs differently, and both of them knew it.
Y/N rested her forehead against his shoulder. “This is weird.”
Jolly’s hand smoothed slowly up her back beneath the shirt.
“Bad weird?”
“No.”
“Good weird?”
She nodded against him. “Yeah.”
He kissed the side of her head. “We get to figure it out today.”
She nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, we do.”
Jolly picked up a piece of bacon from his plate and held it near her mouth.
She looked at it. Then him. Then opened her mouth.
He fed it to her, and the domestic intimacy of it hit so hard both of them went quiet again.
Y/N chewed slowly, eyes still on his. Jolly’s thumb brushed along her thigh.
There was no rush.
No need to jump from confession into answers instantly. No need to tell the world yet. No need to define every little piece before breakfast finished cooling fully.
They had lost years. They had also just been handed one full day where nobody knew to interrupt them.
For once, they could simply sit in the aftermath and let it become real.
Y/N leaned back enough to look at him. “So we’re keeping this quiet today?”
Jolly nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.”
“I think I want one day.”
“One day?”
“Just ours.” Her fingers traced absently over his shoulder. “Before Freja cries. Before your mom says she knew it. Before Folio gets smug. Before Noah becomes Noah. Before Nick starts demanding back pay for emotional damages more than he already has.”
Jolly’s smile softened. “One day,” he agreed.
Y/N searched his face. “And tomorrow?”
His hand slid up to her cheek. “Tomorrow I’m still in love with you, and we face the aftermath together.”
Her eyes watered instantly.
He kissed her before the tears could fall.
Morning sunlight spilled across the kitchen floor, coffee went lukewarm on the table, and somewhere across town, Mrs. Karlsson stood on her porch drinking her own coffee with a smile she absolutely refused to explain.
For now, nobody knew. For now, the house stayed quiet. For now, Y/N stayed in Jolly’s lap wearing his shirt, stealing his bacon, and learning what it felt like to be loved out loud.
Tag List:
@Lacy1986 @meddleabout2 @bluehairpunklol @foliosdrumstick @mariiieontour @anameunmusical @sleepycactus-omens @icybansheesoul @itsfarbettertolearn @mushrumink @nixsxxx @philomenie @anything-morethan-human @platespaghetti @ashley-fay-montgomery
❌️ Red Omens ❌️
Some Jolly pics to brighten your day ☺️
🩷🩷🩷
HAPPY SUMMERWEEN PALS
Please enjoy some good old monsterfucking in the heat of summer. Autumn vibes below the cut!🍂
story contains brief call back to BLOOD DRUNK INVALIDATION
Pairing: Vampire! Ricky Olson x Ismine (human) x Werewolf! Jolly Karlsson
Cw: monsterfucking, biting, marking, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal intercourse, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, mind reading; let me know if I missed anything!
For my beloved @fevmotionless you snuck into my kinktober requests last year with this amazing idea and I had to write it. I hope it was worth the wait🥺 thank you to Jester for beta reading <3 my brain died a few times while writing. Thank you for keeping my head on straight. 😘
ricky's ring
~5k words
about 25 minute read
🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
18+ MDNI
My stupid alarm wakes me up on a Saturday. Groaning, I roll over and reach out for my phone on the bedside table, barely missing the glass of water. Blurry-eyed and practically blind without my glasses, somehow I manage to turn off the alarm and not spill water all over the hardwood floor. I manage to put on my glasses and then scowl at my phone for two seconds, hoping laser beams will shoot out of my eyeballs and destroy it. With no luck, I crawl out of bed in search the best thing on Earth: coffee.
Lounging on the couch with Bram Stoker's Dracula and another episode of Charmed on the TV screen, my phone buzzes against the on-screen chatter.
Who could possibly be texting me before noon?
Folio: Wakey wakey Izzy! Party friday night! It'll be low key just a couple of friends please come pretty please
Ismine: Why are you awake? 🤔
Folio: Because I miss you 😘 and you never come hang out. you'd rather hang out with your book boyfriends than your actual friend
Ismine: Hey! not true I was at the concert a few weeks ago remember?
Folio: How could I possibly forget Jolly hasn't stopped asking me questions about you
Ismine: About me? Why would he do that?
Folio: haha you're cute, you know that. Come to the party pleaseeeeee
Ismine: Fine, yeah I'll be there 💕
Folio: Fuck yes! I can't wait
After tugging on one of Folio's leather jackets from the back of the closet, I am immediately drenched in his scent. My mind flashes with images of last Halloween. Darius and his bloodstained shirt. Nick's amber eyes. Sharp knives and even sharper teeth. Blood. So much blood. And a night filled with many orgasms.
Suddenly, my thighs clench together in recollection; the initials carved there have long since healed. Not a single mar on my skin, no evidence of the night, only my memories. Between the band, and training Darius and other fledgling vampires, Nick and I decided to just stay friends. It was easier that way. Sighing, I shove down the memories, zip up the jacket, and head for the door.
"Izzy! You made it!" Nick exclaims, opening the door. Loud music filters outside. So much for a small party. Nick grabs the slow cooker from my hands and I follow him inside.
"This smells divine, Iz, you've outdone yourself!" Nick lifts the lid for a peek and whistles.
I can't help but grin. "Heard tonight's a Harvest supermoon so I added more herbs to the meat for protection and stability." My mother doesn't call me the kitchen witch for nothing.
Nick wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into a tight hug. "You're the best," he mutters.
"I know." I smile, squeezing him back.
"What smells amazing?" I peer up to find a stranger looking past Nick and I. His icy blue gaze scans the kitchen and then lands on me. "Did you make that?"
Nick steps out of our embrace. "Rick, this is my childhood friend Ismine. Ismine, this is my sire Richard, but everyone calls him Rick."
"Nice to meet you Rick!" I extend my hand to him and he wraps his slender tattooed fingers around it, giving my hand a firm shake. I notice he has a ring on his index finger similar to Nick's. The gemstone is as dark as the night sky and it . . . shimmers? I quickly pull my hand away, the heat of the ring still lingering on my skin.
Rick chuckles darkly. "I am part of the original one hundred. The blue sunstone represents our call to the night and allows us to survive in the sun." Rick glances down at his ring and then back up. His once-icy gaze crystallizes with scrutiny. "My ring senses your aura, but you don't smell like us and your heart-"
Suddenly, the door swings open. "What the fuck is that smell? I am fucking starving!" Jolly announces, nearly bumping into Rick. "Ismine! How've you been?" Jolly pulls me into a bear bug. His body heat and earthy cologne invade my senses, instantly calming me.
I sense the vampire tense. Despite being friends for way longer than I've been alive, the vamps still get a little jumpy when werewolves are around. It's an innate response practically stitched into their DNA.
"I'm doing good. Folio dragged me away from my book boyfriends."
"Boyfriends! As in plural. Damn, girl, you're gonna have to tell me about them." Jolly flashes a wolfish grin, exposing his canines.
Rick rolls his eyes, annoyed, and shoves passed Jolly.
"I'll tell you all about them while we eat." I playfully punch his arm and I'm met with firm muscle. Damn, bet he could carry me around like a rag doll. Chill, Iz. I mentally shake myself, shoving away the explicit images in my mind before grabbing a slice of pizza.
As the night rolls on, the music gets louder and the drinks flow faster with Nick and Jolly both making sure my drink is never empty. Rick, ever the gentleman, has been steadfast in reminding me to also drink water. The table erupts into agreeable grunts and drunk cheers when Nick suggests playing poker. On instinct, my fingers twitch for my bag and the safety of the book in my purse. I glance around my chair for my bag when I remember Nick put it in the hallway closet. Fuck!
"Wanna dance?" A soft low voice shatters my spiraling thoughts. I glance up from my phone, about to open my Kindle app, when my eyes meet an icy steel gaze.
"Wait, what?" I blurt out automatically, my mind still reeling.
"Want to dance with me? Downstairs where the music isn't so loud." The raucous sound continues around us as Nick and Jolly set up the poker table.
"Yeah, sure," I say, rising to my feet. I look down at my phone, briefly wishing I could get lost in the electronic pages, but against my better judgment, I lock my screen and pocket my phone. I follow the ancient and devastatingly handsome vampire downstairs.
Lofi jazz flows gently through speakers, wrapping the large room in a warm ambiance akin to a modern speakeasy. The lights are low, illuminating the built-in bar at the far end of the room. Across from the bar are two dark brown leather sofas, one where a couple is already kissing tenderly.
"Want a drink?" Ricky asks from behind the bar, grabbing two martini glasses.
His low voice pulls my gaze from the entwined pair. After plopping down in on the wooden bar stool, I say (maybe a little too excitedly), "Yeah, whatever you're having."
Ricky's eyebrows raise. "Hmm . . ." He considers, glancing between me and the glassware. A tattooed finger circles the edge of the glass. He flicks his gaze up to meet mine. "I'm going to make you a tonic . . ." He adds another finger but slows his pace. His eyes lower to the glass and then back up to me. The gesture looks awfully suggestive. The next words he speaks come out in a low rumble. "Your thoughts are loud, darling. I bet Jolly can smell you all the way down here."
I can feel my cheeks heat and my stomach somersaults at his admission.
"I-" I start, but my throat is suddenly dry. Mind racing, I try to muster up a denial, to play it off as friendly joke, literally anything to distract and redirect. Because . . . why would any of them want to be with me?
"Ah-ah, don't go there," Ricky tsks, and then his lips curve into a small smile. "If you knew what Jolly thought about you, I'd need to . . ." He stops himself from finishing, looking down at the glasses.
"Ok." My voice comes out small and a little shaky, so I clear my throat and start again. "Make me the tonic, please." I flash him a smile I hope he believes.
"Yes ma'am." He smiles back and then pulls out two shot glasses from the cabinet. As I watch him pour from a slew of different bottles, nerves and arousal churn in my gut. I take a deep breath to settle the internal battle with my heart and my brain.
No longer a wallflower, I decide to bloom.
He sets the bottle down and flashes a wink. My heart flip-flops in my chest. Ricky slides the glass in my direction and then raises his.
"Cheers."
After the glasses clink against each other, I knock back my drink. My senses are instantly enveloped in a rich, smokey essence as bittersweet dances on the back of my tongue. It's an unexpected surprise that has me craving something . . . something I can't quite name. Ricky walks around the bar and leads me to the sofa. As I'm about to settle down beside him, his slender fingers find purchase at my waist, guiding me onto his lap.
"Better." He smiles, flashing the tips of his fangs. My heartbeat skyrockets, pounding obnoxiously in my ears. Without a doubt, he can hear it too. "Your body has been flooded with an elixir that will relax you." He presses a kiss to my neck and I shiver. "If at any point you want anything to stop, just say so. I can feel skin starting to warm and . . ." With a finger to my chin, our eyes meet. "Your pupils are dilated."
He smirks as his fingertips graze my throat, down through the valley between my breasts to their destination between my legs. My core heats at his touch, no longer proper and polite.
He pushes the hair away from my shoulder and leans in. His breath is hot against my ear. "I bet it's warm and wet there too." He presses the heel of his palm firmly against my pelvic bone. I bite down on my lip to keep from moaning.
Ricky nips at my earlobe and then presses a firm kiss to the side of my neck. I suck in a gasp as his fangs graze against the delicate skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Suddenly, his hands grip my waist, holding me steady; there's a pinch of pain and then its gone quickly replaced by a warmth that heats just under the skin, rushing from my neck to my toes.
My head feels a little floaty and my vision blurs for only a second. Gripping Ricky's shirt for support, I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. The music has slowed its tempo; the couple on the sofa must have moved on because there's only distant chatter from across the room. I breathe in Ricky's scent which calms me, his presence strong and comforting. No pressure or influence—just him.
When I finally open my eyes, his gaze is accessing, brows furrowed slightly and wrinkling the otherwise smooth skin.
"I-" he starts, but my hands have a mind of their own. Before I can stop myself, I tug on his shirt, pulling him into me, our lips crashing together. I need more. As we kiss, my hands snake under his shirt. His body tenses at my unexpected touch. Finding the small of his back, I pull him against me. I want this.
Tilting my head slightly, I lick into his mouth and his lips part easily. My tongue grazes the tips of his fangs. Ricky shudders yet musters enough self control to retract his fangs completely. "Please," I can't help but whine, eager for more. Ricky pulls away slightly, eyes steely with lust and determination.
"Not here, love." He kisses my retort away, and suddenly I'm lost in his touch and his lips.
"God, you two reek!" Jolly jokes, plopping down on the couch with us. I yelp, pulling away, eyes blazing at the intrusion.
"What the hell Jol-" Jolly presses a finger to my lips, silencing me.
"Don't stop because I'm here, please keep going." Jolly smirks, eyes roaming over me. My cheeks flush crimson under his lustful gaze. Slender fingers pull me back to Rick, who quickly devours my lips with his. I melt into his touch, moaning into his mouth and hands fisting the edge of his shirt. Suddenly Rick shifts, forcing me to straddle him, and the outer edge of my thigh brushes against Jolly's.
"The old man you're sitting on set up a ward so no one else is coming down here, or anywhere we go."
Gasping for breath, I pull away, remembering that Rick doesn't need as much oxygen as I do. Panting, I try to collect my thoughts when thick fingers grip my chin. Forest green and brown eyes fill my vision. My eyes track the quick peek of Jolly's tongue between his lips when he licks them. Images of his beard rubbing against my thigh as his tongue laps at my pussy flashes through my mind. Rick tenses beneath me, yet his dick twitches, pressing against my center. I need them both. Right now. My hands snake under their shirts to rest on each of their hips, skin-to-skin. One nearly fever hot and the other soothingly cool.
Jolly raises a questioning brow that asks, 'My turn?' I answer by tilting my head slightly, parting my lips and leaning in. For a breath, time stills around us. Rick slides a hand under my top to rest at the middle of my back. Not urgent— just present. I can feel his eyes glancing between us in eagerness. Finally, Jolly's plump lips are on mine, his tongue searching. He tastes like freshly fallen rain. Jolly growls low in the back of his throat, and it has my pussy throbbing. My hips have a mind of their own when they start grinding on Ricky's lap. Rick's hand slides back to my hips, halting the ministrations. He brushes the hair from my shoulder, exposing my throat. The soft press of his lips on my neck has me mewling. When Jolly and I finally part, we are both breathless, cheeks flush and eyes full of desire.
"Hold on tight, spider monkey." Ricky guides my hands to wrap around his neck. I can't help the giggle that escapes as he stands and I wrap my legs around his waist. I nuzzle my face into his neck, breathing in his scent. I've heard stories of vampiric speed but never witnessed it. Cool air rushes around us as Ricky carries me. I barely register we are moving until there's a distant snarl that echoes behind us. As quickly as it starts, it stops, and I find myself tumbling onto a large plush bed. My eyes adjust to low lamplight that's accompanied by the full moon. It's almost midnight.
The closing door jolts my gaze from the window. A shirtless Rick steps out of the shadows. Beside him, Jolly begins unbuttoning his flannel. Their gazes never leave mine, both sets of eyes alight—one golden amber and the other ice blue. Heat flashes through me, and I'm desperate to get out of my clothes. I tug at my shirt and warm hands envelope mine, helping me undress.
Jolly guides me onto the bed where Ricky already sits.
"Come here, darling," Rick beckons, and I obey, crawling onto his lap. Heat blooms in my core despite the chill of his skin against mine. I can feel Jolly's eyes roaming over my nakedness. Rick's eyes lock on the small butterfly tattoo on my shoulder. Time seems to slow around us as he reaches out and caresses the old ink with his thumb. I've had the tattoo since I was fourteen, gotten as an act of teenage rebellion. Yet no one paid it much attention—dismissed and discarded.
For the first time in my life, he sees me.
They both do.
My breath catches in my throat when Ricky leans in, lips hovering, breath hot against my shoulder. He presses the gentlest kiss to the butterfly.
"She was a curious girl . . ." he whispers, pressing a kiss to my collarbone. His fingertips graze up my sides, sending a shiver down my spine. His words and teasing touch ignite my arousal. ". . . who loved the smell of old books." A chaste kiss to the base of my throat, hands resting on the curve of my hips. "Chasing butterflies and . . ." His lips trail higher, to my jaw and the corner of my lips. He rocks me forward slightly, and I can feel his cock twitch beneath me, my slickness coating his length. ". . . touching herself under the covers."
All at once, heat spreads through my body and desperation takes over. My hips rock back and forth, grinding against his cock, just enough pressure against my aching clit. I can't help the moan that slips through my lips as he takes charge, pressing me firmly onto him. His kiss is hungry and rushed. I need more. I close the distance between our bodies by wrapping my arms around his neck. His cool skin hardens my nipples instantly. He digs his fingernails into the soft skin of my hips; it will surely bruise tomorrow. My thighs tense as the coil of pleasure tightens in my core. Lost in the heat of the moment, my tongue nicks his fangs. The unexpected pain shoves me over the edge, and then I'm wailing into Ricky's mouth; eyes shut tight, my orgasm crashes through me. Ricky holds me tighter, grinding me faster through the aftershock. I collapse against him, chest heaving as my brain tries to process everything.
But someone won't let me. In a flash, I'm rolled onto my back against Ricky's chest. Jolly spreads my legs wide and settles down between them. His large hands grip each thigh. Ricky holds my middle, his other hand rolling my nipple with his fingers. Jolly nudges my slick folds with his nose and inhales.
"This is so fucked up," he chuckles. "But you smell divine, even mixed in with Ricky's wretched scent."
I open my mouth to retort but a deep moan takes its place when Jolly licks through my folds.
"Let's hear it darling, how wrecked you are for both of us," Ricky coos. His glacier eyes rake over my body until they lock onto Jolly's challenging gaze. Jolly presses down harder on my thighs and grunts out.
"We'll get you moaning our names soon enough," Jolly mumbles against my clit, the vibrations sending a shock up my spine. At the mercy of my own desperation, my back arches and Ricky tightens his grip around me. "You're not going anywhere princess, right?"
"Please," I whine. "I'll be good. Please fuck me!" The last words spill out, shifting into a high-pitched shriek when Jolly slaps my thigh. My legs tense at the pain that spreads warmly through my thigh. But when he applies more pressure to my clit, I melt instantly, the pain numbing to pleasure.
"Oh fuuuuuuuck," I sigh deeply, relaxing into Ricky's chest. He presses soft kisses to my hair while a hand rests gentle yet strong on my hip. Somehow, despite the overwhelming sensations, I find comfort. I suck in a breath the moment Jolly's tongue flicks over my clit as Ricky does the same to my pert nipple. Jolly huffs a satisfied laugh between my folds as I realize how turned on I've become. Sandwiched between a vampire and werewolf. Both forces of the supernatural, gently taking me apart, piece by piece.
My eyes flutter close as heat blooms in my chest, the rhythmic sensation making me drowsy. When Jolly eases two fingers in, my pussy welcomes him. The pads of Ricky's index fingers tease my nipple while Jolly's fingers caress the sweet spot within. Out of nowhere, pressure builds in my core and I suck in a deep breath. My eyes jolt wide. My cheeks heat when I notice the wetness under my butt. I open my mouth to apologize, but my brain can't process words. Jolly shift himself up onto his knees and pops the digits into his mouth. His chin glistens. Ricky tenses beneath me.
Without warning, Jolly leans forward, closing the distance between him and Ricky. Beside me, Jolly spears Ricky's lips open with his tongue. Ricky moans loudly. Jolly is the first one to pull away. His amber eyes glow feral with desire, and he flashes his canines. My heart skips a beat.
"Oh shit!" The words barely leave my lips when, at lightning speed, Ricky shoves Jolly off the bed. In another fluid motion, he settles back into the pillows and hoists me backwards onto his face. His hands grip my hips with a bruising force, keeping me still as his tongue fucks into my still-dripping cunt. I'm spread open to a very hungry werewolf that hasn't had his fill. Jolly snarls and crawls onto the bed, careful not to touch the vampire's legs. His head dips between my folds and he sucks my clit between his lips, chin bumping Ricky's.
I cry out, my hands finding purchase in Jolly's hair and nails digging in as I drench Ricky beneath me. I go limp and Jolly pulls away just in time to hook his arms under mine.
"Easy," he says softly.
Ricky returns to sitting up against the headboard while Jolly helps me sit in the middle. His touch is gentle when he wipes a tear away. I sniffle.
"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" His hand rests against my cheek and I lean into his touch.
"Mhmm . . . good," is all my brain can muster.
Jolly leans in, pressing a kiss to my tear stained cheek. "Are you ready for my knot?"
"Yes, please!" My voice comes out breathy and desperate, but I don't care. Whatever was in the tonic still has my body vibrating for more.
"Ok," Jolly says, his eyes flicking up just beyond my shoulder. A knowing grin curves his lips. "I think Ricky is ready for you too."
"W-what?" Curiosity urges me to look back. "Oh." My cheeks flame red at the sight of Ricky lazily stroking his cock.
"Come here, darling." Ricky pats his awaiting lap. I bite at my lip nervously, eyeing him. "We'll take it slow." As I crawl over to Ricky, the mattress shifts as Jolly gets up. "Don't worry about him. Focus on me."
I settle on Ricky's lap, hyper aware of his hard cock pressing against me. His cock twitches and I shiver. He hooks a finger under my chin and pulls me in. Our lips are so close I feel his breath and his cool scent like winter fills my lungs. His eyes flick down to my lips and then back up to meet my gaze. In the space between us, time slows but my body screams for more. I lean in, pressing my lips onto his. I expect urgent lips to kiss me back, but he takes his time. Being immortal, I guess you have all the time in the world.
"More," I whimper. His lips curve into a smile when he kisses me again. His hands come to my hips, anchoring me to him. I nip at his bottom lip and he purrs. Purrs!
Momentarily derailed by thoughts of purring vampires, I still. Ricky chuckles (probably from reading my thoughts) and yanks my hips forward and then back. He crashes his lips into mine and my thoughts vanish, only to be replaced by desperation as he rocks me faster over his cock.
"You're so wet," Ricky moans.
Pressure builds with every swipe of his cock over my clit. I tilt my hips for more friction, wrapping my arms around his neck as I press myself closer. My pussy flutters as I ache for more.
With a grunt, Ricky lifts me at vampiric speeds and then slams me onto his cock. I cry out, whimpering against his lips. I expect pain from the sudden invasion but a soothing warmth spreads to my belly. I let my body take over, bouncing up and down on his cock and chasing my building orgasm.
"That's it, use me," Ricky whispers. His hands grip firmly at my hips as he shifts slightly, taking control. I gasp at the new angle—his cock pounding into the sweet spot within. On the edge of bliss, I'm barely aware of the shift in the mattress and the subtle scent of earth and musk.
"Oh fuck!" Something cold and wet teases the other hole and I tense, halting my climax. Ricky stills beneath me. His hands relax on my hips, one coming to cup my cheek.
"It's ok, just Jolly," Ricky says softly.
"Sorry," Jolly says, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "I didn't want to interrupt, but I guess my timing was off too."
I let out a deep breath. "Oh ok."
"Kiss me," Ricky purrs.
I obey, melting into him and losing myself in the taste of him. Of their own volition, my hips grind back and forth, yet Ricky's hands keep the pace slow.
"Good girl," he coos. He presses a kiss to my pulse point and at the same time Jolly's thumb presses in.
"Relax Iz, we have you," Jolly soothes. "Our curious girl."
I let out a deep breath, relaxing into their touch. I press my hands against Ricky's chest as Jolly rests his other hand on my thigh. Together, their touch, kisses, and praise brings me back to the edge. Ricky thrusts deep when Jolly's thumb slides the rest of the way in. I feel so full I can't possibly take anymore.
Without warning, my mind blanks and I clench around them both, crying out as another orgasm crashes over me. Ricky fucks me through the aftershock as Jolly pulls his thumb out. Ricky keeps his grip on my hips. Suddenly, a warm hand pushes me forward until I'm chest to chest with Ricky. I'm so warm and blissed out that I melt easily.
"Breathe in," Ricky instructs, and I follow. "Breathe out." On the exhale, my body loosens even more. I nuzzle into Ricky's neck. "That's it."
When Jolly's cock notches at my back entrance, I sigh deeply. Pleasure surges through me as my walls adjust. Inch by inch, he spreads me open. My lower belly feels heavy and warm at the weight of both of them. Ricky's cock pulses and I let out a delirious giggle.
"Shit!" Jolly curses. "I'm gonna cum if you don't stop it."
"She's so blissed out," Ricky muses. "Ismine."
My eyes flutter open. "Hi," I say sleepily.
Ricky chuckles. "I must have given you too much tonic."
I stifle a yawn. "I'm awake, feels so good."
"Wakey, wakey," Jolly laughs, smacking my ass. I yelp, jolting upright. I try to turn to throw death daggers at Jolly, but Ricky grips my chin and pulls me into a kiss. His lips are urgent and his tongue dominates my mouth. Jolly thrusts into my ass and I dig my nails into Ricky's chest. He gasps, parting first from our kiss. His lips find my pulse point and my pussy flutters. Jolly growls as his cock thickens. His hands clamp down on my thighs. At the mercy of a werewolf and vampire, my body finally gives in. My moans get louder with each thrust, each cock alternating—never leaving me empty.
I suck in a gasp when I feel Ricky's fangs lengthen, grazing the sensitive skin of my neck.
"Yes!" I mewl. "Please do it."
"Say it," Ricky whispers.
Jolly curses, hips faltering.
"Bite me."
All at once, Ricky's fangs pierce my neck. Jolly grunts, his mouth latching onto the juncture between my neck and shoulder.
I cry out, screwing my eyes shut tight as pain spreads through my neck and shoulder, yet the coil in my core snaps with each pulse of their cocks. My body spasms as white bursts in flashes behind my eyes. I collapse against Ricky yet they continue to fuck me. Jolly's knot blooms, releasing his seed, which causes Ricky to climax. Mindlessly, I clench around them, milking every last drop. As we all still, Jolly and Ricky both retract their mouths and press soothing kisses to each bite mark. Their hands caress my body lovingly. Despite the pain and the eventual bruises, I sigh deeply into their embrace.
"Thank you," I whisper into Ricky's neck. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Thank you for trusting us."
"Let's get you cleaned up," Jolly adds.
We part, and Jolly hoists me into his arms. Before we even make it into the bathroom, Ricky has gone ahead of us, making the shower the perfect temperature. My feet barely touch the ground before Ricky is hauling me into the shower at lightning speed. Jolly scowls.
Ricky kisses me under the water before washing me gently. Abruptly, Jolly yanks at my wrist, pulling me into him. With ease, he lifts me up, shoving my back into the tile.
"Mine," he growls.
On instinct, I wrap my legs around his waist and he thrusts into me hard. My hands find purchase around his neck as I cling to him. Suddenly, we are spun around and I crash into Ricky's chest.
"Ours," he purrs, his ready cock teasing my ass. His cock isn't as thick as Jolly's, so he slides easily into my back entrance.
"Oh fuck!" I curse as I clench around them. My climax surges with their releases. As the water cools around us, the vampire and werewolf spill their seed.
The dusty hues of morning twilight fill the room when we all finally crawl into bed. I nuzzle into Ricky's bare chest, his cool smooth skin grounding. Jolly snuggles up behind me, his arm thrown over my hip. Comforted by my vampire and werewolf, my hot and cold, ice and earth— I fall asleep easily.
@sallyba3 @dragoncopper @sitkowski @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @ferduttini @sorrowsofsilence @rumoured-whispers @philomenie @lobolocaamo @th4t-em0-k1d @the-ancient-fae @99png @theservantbones @collapsedglasshouses @mysticdoodlez @ami-gami @dunnkop-music @lyricallymelodic @sleepycactus-omens @branika182
x
sorry but it's kinda giving me this lol:
Bestfriend! Jolly x Female reader
you're Noah's little sister, and Noah knows you're already an adult who could easily kick his ass without any problem, like when he was a teenager and you were shorter. But he can't help still seeing you as his little sister, the one he had to take care of even when he was still a kid because there were problems at home and it was just the two of you.
You're a member of the band, you try to go on every tour when you have time, you're friends with everyone, but especially close to Jolly. You both understand each other well, you can talk for hours without getting bored, and the age difference isn't a factor that complicates communication. But little by little, a kind of sexual tension develops that neither of you can explain.
It started with brushing hands, seeking each other out, wanting to be closer, bringing each other snacks, noticing small details in each other's facial features—a freckle, a blemish, in Jolly's case, a gray hair. All of that awakened something special that you couldn't quite explain.
After a tour wrap party, you ended up drunk. Everyone at the party was having a great time. Jolly, who was a bit tipsy, started whispering in your ear how beautiful you looked in that dress. The alcohol clouded your judgment, and since no one was paying attention, you went upstairs and ended up having sex on the bedroom bed. Clothes were everywhere, your panties were torn, his long hair covered you like a veil as he fucked you while you were on top. The tension was gone, and neither of you regretted what you'd done.
Their happiness and ecstasy plummeted as soon as someone opened the door. They'd forgotten to lock it. There, standing in the doorway, was a furious, drunk older brother, still holding his glass full of what was probably vodka and lemon soda.
"JOLLY, YOU SON OF A BITCH, YOU FUCKED MY...HIP...SISTER!"
steamy swedish fish sandwich
oh…ohh.
creds @jwysbestie on TikTok
this is all one giant mood
A snippet of Curious Girl - werewolf jolly x oc x vampire ricky
Ricky returns to sitting up against the headrest while Jolly helps me sit in the middle. His touch is gentle when he wipes a tear away. I sniffle.
"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" His hand rests against my cheek and I lean into his touch.
"Hmm.. Good," is all my brain can muster.
Jolly leans in pressing a kiss to my tear stained cheek. "Are you ready for my knot?"
@fevmotionless
