#wes x turbo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

69% of Tumblr users are millennials.

shurisneakers · 2 months

Text

part 2 dropping tonight besties

(turn on post notifications for @shurisneakersupdates if you want a notif for the fic!!)

#unsolved fic #this chapter is calm. we go turbo next chapter onwards. sonic fast even #ari talks #unsolved bts #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #doesnt apply here but a reminder that every image in unsolved has alt text #for those who require it

21 notes · View notes

king-crawler · 5 months

Note

finally... another turbo lover in 2023 to share my silly thoughts with 😁

do you think turbo would be more touch starved or touch averse, considering his many years of isolation/hiding his true self post "going turbo"? Personally, I see him starting off very touch averse in his heyday but after that I'm unsure 🤔 however, imagine the fanfic potential 😌

That’s a good question. Canonically I think he has zero interest in romance whatsoever because he’s already in a committed relationship with “Sacrificing everything about himself and sabotaging others to get as much attention as possible”

…

BUUUUT if he WEREEEEE :]c

I think he would be mostly adverse yeah .

Pre-roadblasters (has all the attention he could ever want)

and also during hiding (zero contact whatsoever)

and also while in sugar rush (can’t allow people to get too close to him or else his secret might be revealed)

Ok but um HEAR ME OUT OK. (SMILES WITH BLOOD COMING OUTOFMYEYES(

In Cybug form he’s so fucking grabby and handsy. In a murderous way!! But like also. Bro…. 😁 I would imagine by then he’s touch starved in a Messed Up Way . From all the years he’s had NOTHING. And now with his identity revealed he has nothing to lose anymore and he’s all powerful and unhinged So. so. 🚶. You shouldn’t have asked.

#🐛VIRUS OFFERINGS #so what I’m saying is.#sorry #THANKS FOR THE ASK ..!!!!!!!#ALSO YES UNITED WE ARE STRONG #ask #suggestive #kcb #turbo x reader #sure man #king candybug #turbo #I’m normal #hc #🤨unwise

9 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 19 days

Text

Man’s World

Charles Leclerc x Ferrari engineer!Reader

Summary: Charles refuses to just stand by and watch as you get disrespected

Warnings: misogyny and lewd comments

You’re admiring the sleek lines of the red Ferrari F8 Tributo in front of you, running your fingers lightly over the glossy paint. The showroom is quiet this early in the morning, just a few employees milling about getting ready for the day.

Charles had to stop by to sign some merchandise for a charity event and asked if you wanted to tag along. You opted to wait out front and enjoy the eye candy while he took care of business.

You circle around to the back of the car, appreciating the aggressive styling and massive rear diffuser. As an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari who often extends your expertise to working on their road cars, you know every detail of this machine intimately. Your hands itch to pop the hood and inspect that glorious twin-turbo V8, but you resist.

This isn’t your workshop back in Maranello.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the group of guys entering the showroom until one whistles loudly. “Hey baby, those legs look good enough to wrap around me real tight,” one calls out.

You freeze, feeling your heart rate pick up.

“Don’t be shy, we just want to get to know you better,” another says as they swagger over.

You press back against the car, sizing up the situation. Four of them, all clearly well-off based on the expensive watches and designer clothes. But their eyes are cruel as they look you up and down.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” The apparent ringleader asks. “Hoping to sink your claws into some rich guy and take him for all he’s worth?” The others laugh nastily.

You lift your chin. “Actually, I happen to work for Ferrari.”

The man snorts in disbelief. “Yeah right, and I’m Michael Schumacher. There’s no way a woman knows anything about these cars other than where the passenger seat is.”

You clench your fists, biting back a scathing retort. The thought of educating these misogynistic jerks gives you immense satisfaction, but you know it won’t do any good. They’ll never change their prejudiced attitudes.

“Don’t listen to him, darling,” one says, giving you a lecherous look. “I’d be happy to take you for a ride, show you how a real man handles power between his legs.”

You’re about to tell him exactly where he can shove his stereotypes when a familiar voice interrupts sharply.

“That’s enough.”

You look over to see Charles striding angrily toward you, green eyes blazing. The men surrounding you look irritated at having their fun spoiled.

“Can we help you with something, pal?” The ringleader asks sarcastically.

Charles ignores him, coming to stand protectively beside you. “Are you okay, mon amour?” He asks under his breath.

You nod, relief washing over you now that he’s here. “I’m fine.”

Charles turns an icy stare on the men who’d been harassing you. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to my girlfriend that way,” he says coldly.

The leader looks Charles up and down dismissively. But then a spark of recognition crosses his face. “Wait a minute … you’re Charles Leclerc!” He elbows his friends. “The Formula 1 driver!”

The others’ eyes widen as they take in Charles with new understanding. “Whoa, seriously?” One exclaims.

The leader chuckles, clearly trying to recover his bravado. “Well, what do you know? The famous racer has a pretty girl on his arm.” His lips curl in a smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s obvious she’s just using you for your money. No way she knows anything about these cars other than how much they cost.”

Charles crosses his arms. “As it so happens, my girlfriend is an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari, so I’d bet my entire net worth — and my car collection — that she knows more about the cars in this dealership than all four of you combined and then some.”

You have to bite your lip to hide a smile at the dumbfounded looks on the men’s faces.

“An engineer?” One sputters. “You can’t be serious.”

You level a challenging stare at them. “Deadly serious. I’ve personally worked on over a dozen projects for Ferrari, including the SF90 Stradale hypercar we just launched.” You point across the showroom. “There’s one right over there, in fact. Mid-front mounted 4.0L twin-turbo V8, delivering 769 brake horsepower combined with three electric motors. First plug-in hybrid Ferrari ever put into full production.” You smirk at the slack-jawed stares your technical rundown elicits. “So yes, I’d say I know a thing or two about these cars.”

Charles grins proudly and squeezes your hand. But the leader is not ready to back down just yet.

“Anyone can memorize a monologue,” he scoffs. “I don’t buy it. You’re clearly just clinging to this guy for his money.”

Fury rises in your chest. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Charles beats you to it.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” he snaps, green eyes blazing. “I’d be very careful with what you say next.”

The man smirks, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. “Or what, tough guy?”

Charles takes a step forward, jaw clenched. The man towers over him but Charles doesn’t flinch.

Right as it looks like things might get physical, you quickly take Charles’s arm. “He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Charles hesitates, nostrils flaring. After a tense moment, he relaxes his stance and turns his back on the leering man.

But it seems the group isn’t done provoking you yet. “That’s right, listen to your sugar baby,” one of them calls out. “Wouldn’t want you messing up that pretty face for the cameras.”

Charles whips back around, shaking with anger now. Heart pounding, you cling to his arm in an effort to hold him back. “Charles, please-”

“No, Y/N.” He shakes off your hand, stalking toward the men. “I won’t stand here and let them insult you.”

You watch helplessly as Charles gets right in the leader’s face, nearly nose to nose. “You need to apologize. Now,” he grits out.

The man narrows his eyes. “Apologize? For what? Stating the obvious?” He smirks coldly. “Face it, your little girlfriend is nothing but a gold diggin-”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. With lightning speed, Charles’ fist connects squarely with his jaw. The man stumbles back with a pained shout, hand flying to his face.

“Charles!” You hurry to his side, alarmed. Charles is breathing hard, staring down at the man doubled over and groaning. The man’s friends back away nervously.

Chest heaving, Charles turns to you. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t listen to him insult you for another second.”

You meet his fiery gaze steadily. “It’s okay, I understand. Thank you for defending me.” After a beat, you add wryly, “And remind me not to get on your bad side.”

That startles a small laugh from Charles. The tension in his shoulders eases. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “No chance of that, mon ange,” he murmurs. “You bring out the best in me.”

***

“Ow, ow, ow!” Charles hisses as he gingerly holds his right hand. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding.

You sigh, grabbing the first aid kit to tend to your dramatic boyfriend. “I told you not to punch him, Charles. You don’t know the first thing about throwing a proper punch.”

Charles pouts, wincing as you take his hand in yours to examine it. “I was just trying to defend your honor, mon amour. That man was saying such crude things about you.”

You shake your head, amused by his protectiveness. “My hero,” you tease. “Next time just walk away. I don’t need you breaking your hand over some entitled idiot’s comments.”

Charles hangs his head. “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just saw red when he kept insulting you.”

You smile softly, touched by how much he cares. You start cleaning the wounds on his knuckles with a disinfectant wipe.

“Ow!” Charles cries out dramatically. “That stings!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” you chide. “It’s just a little antiseptic. I have to clean it so it doesn’t get infected.”

Charles pouts some more but stays still as you finish cleaning the abrasions. You apply an antibiotic ointment carefully before beginning to wrap his hand with a bandage.

“I really messed up my hand, didn’t I?” Charles mumbles dejectedly.

You nod. “You definitely did some damage. Nothing serious, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

Once you’ve wrapped his hand securely, you bring it to your lips and place a gentle kiss on the bandage. “There. All better.”

Charles gives you a lopsided smile. “My own personal nurse. How did I get so lucky?”

You grab an ice pack from the freezer and hand it to him. “Here, put this on your hand to help with the swelling and pain.”

Charles sighs dramatically but does as instructed, holding the ice pack gingerly against his injured hand.

You glance at his wrapped hand, the knuckles already starting to bruise beneath the bandage. “Does it hurt terribly?”

Charles considers the question. “Honestly? Yes, it really does. Punching someone is not as easy as it looks in the movies.”

You laugh. “No kidding. That’s why you leave the punching to trained fighters, not Formula 1 drivers.”

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” Charles mutters. “What will the team say when they find out I injured myself in a fight? And I’ll never hear the end of it from Pierre.”

You pat his leg reassuringly. “Just say you hurt it working out. No one has to know about your misguided attempt at honorable combat,” you tease.

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Good idea. The last thing I need is for this to become paddock gossip.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Charles icing his hand while you snuggle contentedly against him.

"Thank you for patching me up and taking such good care of me,” Charles gently brushes the hair from your face with his uninjured hand. “Even when I do stupid things."

You grin. “It’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Especially since you did almost break your hand for me.”

You settle back against Charles comfortably. He may be reckless and impulsive at times, but you know he always has the best intentions at heart. And you'll always be there to care for him if those good intentions backfire.

For better or worse, this protective man is the love of your life.

2K notes · View notes

magicalink · 7 months

Text

Do they fuck or do they make love?

Headcanons with no specific AU! Mainly character x reader but it ended up implying character x character ships too in sime characters. I wrote this headcanons and when I was reading them to my boyfriend (who is my only beta reader) he started giving his opinions about them and I found his comments absolutely hilarious so I decided to include them! 🤣 First go my headcanons about the character and then my boyfriend's comments indented. Some of them are unhinged 🤣

Venti: Depends on the partner and the situation. He adores making delicate love to you but he's always up for a quickie in the middle of the house, the forest, anywhere and anytime you're willing. And oh Archons, is he intense when he does any of the two! He likes sex to be THE experience, and he tends to be over the top when it comes to it. Also an uncontrollable moaning machine.

Bf: Nah, he fucks. All the time. Cuz he is drunk all the time. We all know his only love is alcohol. I agree on the moaning machine part though, he is loud and doesn't care if others hear.

Diluc: Makes love. He has no time for sex if it's not with the love of his life. Doing it with him is a ceremony to remember. Expect long sessions full of kisses, heartwarming confessions, and body worshipping.

Bf: Accurate. Total gentleman. He only makes love. And possibly the first time you do it he will propose to you the morning after.

Childe: Fucks. He is all in for the adrenaline and pleasure in life, whether it's battle or it's lust. He wants to dive in and feel as much as he can,the more intense and dangerous, the better.

Bf: A fucking degenerate. He loves violence and competition and if he doesn't get it in sex then he's not interested. More of a masochist than a sadist, don't be surprised if you fight him and he ends up insinuating sexually to you. Especially if you're winning the fight. He wants to get beaten up. To sum up, he has a very weird way of "making love"...

Xiao: Makes love. To him, it's something sacred that should be shared with the people you love and respect the most. Will worship every inch of your body and be desperate to convey his feelings to you. Will focus completely on your pleasure, so make sure to calm him down and reward him a bit too!

Bf: Turbo virgin who self cock blocks all the time. He is always afraid: of hurting you, of making you uncomfortable, of saying something wrong, of looking at the wrong place...If you moan he asks you if you're okay. He gets soft all the time because he is afraid of hurting you. He has suicidal thoughts half the encounter. But yeah he makes love.

Albedo: Who knows, really. He's still studying what's the difference between the two. And he sure is doing an experiment and carefully studying it when he has sex with you. To be perfectly clear, he loves you, but this whole thing about sex and human relationships is new to him so he's trying to understand all these new feelings.

Bf: "Making love? Fucking? What is that? I'm the chalkman." Doesnt have a dick and if he had, he is not interested in human relationships at all. But if you manage to fuck him he would be writing down notes about it the whole time.

Scaramouche: Fucks because he thinks giving in to love will make him weak.💔

Bf: Fucks and he only thinks about his mommy issues while doing it. He only fucks to dissociate. And if you treat him with basic human kindness he will start seeing you as a maternal figure so be careful.

Wanderer: Now understands that lying about his feelings is the true form of weakness and doesn't want to waste a single more second of life, he makes love to you making sure he makes crystal clear how he feels about you: in the most explicit, toe-curling, fluid dropping way he can. If you like it hard, prepare to be smacked until you can't sit the following day.

Bf: He's gone to therapy so the mommy issues are better but he's still annoying af. He plays hard to get and pretends not to be committed but the truth is he's just being tsundere and hiding the fact that he is eating from the palm of your hand.

Kazuha: Makes the finest comfiest love in the world. Fucks like a horndog when he's drunk or high but won't stop telling you how crazily he loves you while doing it.

Bf: He is high af the vast majority of the time and during sex, it's no exception. If you manage to fuck him sober he will be the super reflexive and emotional type that cries during sex. But he fucks you lovely but won't make love to you, he only makes love with the love of his life Tomo, the rest of you are his cattle. He's a super friendly guy so after sex he will share his weed with you.

Gorou: He's a gentleman who wants to become good at making love but is extremely shy and gets flustered easily so he fucks sloppily. An adorable sight to behold!

Bf: I agree he is a little gentleman.

Tighnari: Makes love. Except when he's in heat. Then you have to be prepared if you wanna handle him.

Bf: another stoner. He would experiments with aphrodisiacs all the time, makimg them into weird salts or sth.

Cyno: Very similar to his jokes. He's completely sure he's giving his best at making love to you or Tighnari and showing you his devotion, but his poker face, stoic manners, and scary appearance make him look like he's angry fucking you. He doesn't get what he's doing wrong and doesn't do it on purpose. But it doesn't matter since you know him very well and not only are you used to his antics but you also have become sensitive to his very subtle changes of expression.

Bf: He can't help bit to tell bad jokes when he fucks. Self cockblocks himself all the time: either he goes soft in the middle of the act because he's laughing at his own jokes or he makes so cringy jokes that his partner gets uncomfortable and leaves. He can't help it, if he doesn't get them our he will explode.

Itto: Fucks wildly but it's his way of making love. He is just too brute to control the size and strength of his body, especially when he is under the effect of the feral feelings he has for you.

He loves you so much he can't help but to pick you up like you're a potato sack and swirl you in the air like you are a rag doll and take you with him everywhere. When he hugs you he leaves you breathless, when he kisses you he leaves you all sloppy and when he fucks you…well he leaves you sore for weeks but let's say it's totally worth it!

Bf: totally disagree! It would be so hard to fuck him, he would be clueless and friend zone or family zone you all the time. If you tell him you wanna be more than friends he would say "Superfriends??" With the biggest smile. And if you manage to fuck him he would be super careful, he knows he is a brute and is scared of hurting you.

Thoma: Makes super lovey-dovey love. Always double-checks if you're comfortable and enjoying the experience. Knowing he's making you feel good makes him glad and arouses him so don't be shy and tell him if he's doing it well!

Bf: nononono, absolutely wrong, you're blinded by his looks. He is a degenerate masochist and he only fucks Ayato. They have this weird dynamic where he literally acts as his dog.

Ayato: Another one who depends on the partner and situation. Honestly, he's so overworked that he desperately needs a good fuck. Ok maybe many of them. But not only he doesn't have the time, but also he can't be seen sleeping around due to his political position, so probably he'll only get to have sex when he finally finds the person he wants to marry. He hopes to be able to marry someone he actually loves instead of marrying for political reasons. So if you're the lucky one, expect heated sessions of lovemaking from this touch-starved man! Also, he'll love you but that doesn't mean he's gonna stop being a merciless tease 👀

Bf: Degenerate sadist who only has eyes for Thoma and makes him go through so much weird stuff they don't even remember what is to have normal sex. Tying him up and putting him on a leash is the most normal thing out of what they do.

Kaeya: Fucks. He lives for the spectacle and the mystique of it. Also, he's super popular around Mondstadt and wherever he goes so he sleeps around a lot. He has tons of admirers from both sexes and he makes sure to reward their love and devotion. He knows exactly how to please people, how to exacerbate his natural beauty and how to leave them crazy for him. He's simply so erotically natured. Probably the most experienced guy you know in the field.

Bf: Agree. Turbo slut. No more comments needed. If he manages to open his heart he can be sensitive. But that only happened once and it was with his own reflection in a mirror.

Heizou: Fucks lovingly 💕 He loves teasing and making his partner flustered. People and relationships are simply so fun and fascinating to him. And when he gets to be sexually intimate with someone it's even better! If you end up involved with him, be prepared to be taken to your limits.

Bf: Another degenerate. Probably makes you pretend you're a criminal to chase you around town. Pretty sadistic and I can imagine him having yandere tendencies. A cool guy though. When he is not horny.

Al Haitam: Zero interested in the matter. Until he met you. He is learning everything from scratch and even though he's always been a fast learner in everything, this subject is particularly hard since he needs to stop rationalizing and let his feelings take control for once. But his feelings for you are pretty intense, so little by little he is learning how to make love to you 💚

Bf: I imagine him as a turbo aspirator 3000. He would suck your soul out of your genitals. If you manage him to make him interested in sex, which is highly unlikely because he is like 0 interested in any kind of human contact. I picture him having sex with Kaveh and Kaveh would be a pillow princess and Haitham despite being the kind of guy who always sits down and just reads books he would be restless in bed, doing all the job and moving him around.

Kaveh: Another sweet-sweet love guy! He'll make sure to treat you like a princess and spoil you rotten in and out of the bedroom. He'll do the corniest expressions of chivalry but please bear with him, it genuinely comes from his heart. But if you want to see a more sloppy and wrecked side of him, you can always seduce him after he goes to the bar…

Bf: Sassy pillow princess. Or prince? Idk how to say it. He doesn't do anything but he will be all the time criticizing or praising what you do like a talent show judge. "Come on? Is it the first time you suck a cock or what?" You can imagine this kind of behavior is what infuriates Al Haitham and motivates him to go feral and fuck him around the whole house until he shuts the fuck up.

BONUS: This is an old draft but now that Neuvillete and Wriostheley are out, we couldn't let them out! So for this, we are interchanging roles, my bf will give you his headcanons and I will comment!

Bf: I'm 100% sure both Neuvie and Wriot are completely opposite in bed from their personalities in public. Our chivalrous and calm Neuvie is a pasional beast in bed. He is unsatiable, he is a dragon after all. Gives me the same vibes as Zhong Li who acts super calm but when fucking Childe he destroys 3 hotel rooms every night (exactly the type Childe loves. He got a crush on him when he struck him down at Fontaine's court. I'm sure Zhong Li will get jealous when he finds out and we will have some dragon drama going on) Back to Neuvie, he is super feral but he doesn't fuck, he makes love. It's his draconic way of making love. He is also very emotional and if he likes you, after having sex and having calmed down, he will open his wallet and start showing you the pictures of his 300 Melusine daughters and tell you their names and each of their jobs. He is a very proud dad.

Wriothesley loves you from a distance. While you fuck he is super sweet and loving, but during everyday life, he sucks at showing his feelings. He reminds me of the dad of Komi San, super silent but full of love. He communicates through glances (like a dog). Everyone thinks he is a bad boy but he's a super sentimental guy (won't admit it though) If you give him a gift he will treasure it forever and if someone breaks it or steals it from him he will beat them up.

One of his phrases would be "If something happens to my schmoochpsiepups I will kill everyone in Teyvat and then myself," and when he messes up with you for being unable to show his emotions he goes to a karaoke and sings "Baka Mitai" all depressed. He has 0 emotional intelligence and would go there often, crying "Oh, I wanted to tell Y/N how much I love them before they went away and I just groaned 'hmmm' AGAIN 😭😭".

YET ANOTHER BONUS: If Neuvillete and Wriothesley were in a romantic relationship, I'm sure Neuvie would tell him about all of his Melusine daughters. Wriot would act all cold and as if he didn't care but in fact he remembers all their names and thinks about them as his adoptive daughters. Don't be surprised if you walk down the street and see a Melusine falling down and he rescues her and goes to buy her an ice cream cone. He is a proud dad too.

Me: I have no comments. I agree with everything. And Wriot singing Baka Mitai would be amazing, he has the voice of Jotaro and Erwin after all.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Wow this post was longer than intended. AND ONLY NOW I realize we left Lyney and Zhong Li out. I guess bc to me Lyney is kinda teen coded? I feel like they wasted so much husband material making him look so young. I've seen the fandom drawing him as an adult and he looks so hansome. And both my bf and I rambled about Zhong Li but we forgot to include an entry for him 😂 He says it's ok because he's tied to Tartaglia and we spoke about him in Tartaglia's section 😂 God we are a disaster. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the post, whether you found the headcanons hot or my bf's comments funny. He is scared of getting cancelled though 😂

856 notes · View notes

nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 6 months

Text

Here, have a casual glimpse into my thought patterns and creative process:

*just scrolling about Tumblr and vibing to "Too Much Wine" by The Fratellis*

Too much wine?

Mihawk?

Mihawk drunk??

Wait wait wait WAIT what are they all like drunk?

GASP s h i n y h e a d c a n o n s

BLANK DOCUMENT HERE I FCKEN COME—

So anyway here's some headcanons about drinking too much (insert adult beverage of choice) with the OPLA boyos.

Implied that Reader is already in a relationship with each character in question.

I shall call it.......

HAMMERED

OPLA!Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy X AFAB!Reader

NSFW Headcanons

Kinda Kinktober I guess? Borderline shitpost, I had way too much fun with this.

♫♬♫ Too Much Wine - The Fratellis ♫♬♫

I'll take the mead from the table

Talk straight while I'm able

Until I'm nothin' less than a crime

Zoro

"Y'know, I actually have four swords, but we're gonna have to go somewhere more private if you wanna see the other one."

Rum, sake, beer, wine, whatever you're down for drinking so is he.

Zoro's got incredibly high endurance and stamina—it's going to take a while for him to show that it's affecting him at all, but once it does, he goes from zero to one hundred faster than you can say "onigiri."

Literally no in between, no tipsy or buzzed. Just sober and then stumbling over his own feet and swearing he absolutely is not drunk the whole time.

All those repressed emotions that he hides behind a mask of dry sarcasm on a day to day basis are coming out in full effect.

That means you're getting one of two Zoros—goofy Zoro or sad Zoro.

Goofy Zoro's going to have his arm around your shoulders, laughing his ass off about that time he caught that idiot Marine brat swinging his sword around bare-ass naked so he chopped off half his hair.

He's likely to get pretty flirty in this state, even downright playful, especially if you initiate it, and it's almost definitely going to end in him dragging you somewhere private to fuck your brains out, because his restraint is totally out the window at this point.

If you end up with sad Zoro, he'll be laying his head in your lap and slurringly asking whether or not you think he's ever really going to be the best swordsman in the world, probably still beating himself up over losing to Mihawk.

Just comb your fingers through his hair and do your best to reassure him that you love him and genuinely believe in him. Whether it works or not, he's going ti end up falling asleep in your lap, so be prepared to be stuck there for a while.

"But like...you really think, like, I can beat that bird-eyed bastard? I mean he fucked me up with a goddamn butterknife."

Sanji

"There we are—a beautiful drink for a beautiful woman."

Turbo Flirt Mode: activated.

Sanji is all for pairing wine with food, but if you're looking to get a little sideways, he's going to want to show off his mixology skills to impress you—and he's going to be making some dangerous concoctions, the kind that taste like there's not a drop of booze in them.

The more lit he gets, the less subtle the flirting. If you thought he was clingy sober, you are in for a surprise, because that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Head on your shoulder, puppy dog eyes, telling you how pretty you are and how much he adores you every thirty seconds, with a big silly grin like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen.

Brushing his lips along your neck and murmuring all the things he's going to do to you once the two of you are behind closed doors later—and he means every one of them, because you're utterly irresistible to him in this state.

He wants you giggling and blushing just as much as he wants you moaning and trembling under his touch.

Super playful once you are alone, even moreso than usual. He's definitely going to suggest doing body shots, he will beg if he has to, but honestly who in their right mind is going to turn him down?

"You're just...just so—so beautiful—honestly, it should be illegal."

Shanks

"Hold—hold my rum—no, no, just for a moment, I wanna see if I can do a backflip off the railing—"

Spoiler alert: he can't. Now he's lying on the quarterdeck alternating between hysterical laughter and "Oh God that hurt—"

Probably the most fun drunk in the world, but he can be a hazard to his own health as his judgement begins to lapse so someone's going to have to keep an eye on him.

If you're at a tavern or otherwise public location, do not under any circumstances let the man out of your sight for more than two seconds. He turns into a straight-up child, he can and will wander off, and you'll find him a mile away on top of a building, likely half-naked and singing sea shanties at the top of his lungs, with no clue as to how he got up there...or how to get back down.

He's developed quite a high tolerance over the years and tends mostly toward dark rum, though he won't turn down a stein of ale or beer.

Total life of the party energy—telling jokes and stories, he just wants to see everyone laughing and having the absolute best time.

Super, super flirty, he may as well have written the book on pick-up lines; and he doesn't care that you're already together, he's going to drop every single one of them on you just to see how much he can make you giggle or roll your eyes.

He's very likely to pull you onto his lap at some point and make out with you like no one's watching—he already doesn't really care who sees when you're both sober, but he really doesn't care after a little too much rum, so it's probably best to coax him to bed at this point.

He's perfectly happy with cuddling up, laying his head on your chest and draping his arm over you, just humming in contentment and falling asleep together...but if you want more, don't expect to get much sleep, because he wants you lasciviously.

To taste every inch of you, to suffocate between your thighs until you're screaming, to pull you onto his cock and watch you ride him until you're both too breathless and exhausted to do anything but tangle yourselves together in the sheets and drift off to sleep between slow, sensual kisses.

"Oh, princess, just when I catch my breath, you make me lose it all over again."

Mihawk

"If you insist on being such a brat about this, you're going to get what's coming to you."

Mihawk has a strong drive to be in total control of himself and everything happening around him at all times, which means he doesn't tend toward getting drunk.

But...he also has this wee little problem with his ego being larger than the entire volume of every combined ocean in the world. If you imply that you could drink him under the table...he's probably going to sneer and tell you to quit being a brat, but he's also going to be quite driven to prove you wrong.

He does love his wine, but it's generally only a glass or two to wind down and relax—he's definitely got a nice bottle of aged bourbon or eau de vie tucked away somewhere that's going to be coming out, because he's got something to prove now.

Unfortunately for him, due to the fact that he so rarely drinks heavily...he's a bit of a lightweight. Which he won't admit even to himself.

But it barely takes a single lowball of harder liquor to get that pale complexion of his a little flushed.

Perhaps just over three for him to start blinking a bit harder than normal in a futile attempt to get his vision to focus, to start speaking a bit slower to attempt to hide the slight slur in his words as you taunt him about it—which honestly only makes it more pronounced, and more amusing.

You had best enjoy it, because it's probably the only time you're going to hear the words, "Fine, you win," come out of his mouth—as well as perhaps the only time he won't be miffed about conceding. The alcohol in his system has him loosened up just enough that he can't pretend he doesn't find your boldness and sass at least a bit endearing...and even more alluring.

That being said, you're still getting punished for it, teased within an inch of your sanity, and he's going to enjoy every single second of it.

Setting his glass aside, plucking yours from your hand, pinning your hands above your head with a devilish smirk and slowly undressing you, his eyes on yours the entire time.

Trailing his fingertips across your bare skin, drawing closer and closer but never quite giving you want you want, his lips barely brushing against your neck, reminding you in an amused murmur in your ear that he could easily do this all night.

You did have the audacity to challenge him, after all—he has no choice but to remind you who's in charge.

"What is it, my little bird? Did you think you were going to get a consolation prize? You're still going to have to beg."

Buggy

"Bet you two thousand Berries I can shotgun two beers at once, watch this—"

And he basically ends up halfway drowning himself, but hey, you're two thousand Berries richer!

Honestly, there's no party like a Buggy party, because a Buggy party doesn't stop until someone loses a limb—probably him.

No, really. Don't let him use his devil fruit abilities. Keep a bucket of sea water on hand if you have to, because he may literally misplace one of his limbs and you're going to have to go on a Chop Chop Scavenger Hunt to help him find it while you're both completely smashed.

If Buggy's drinking, everybody's drinking, and everybody is getting completely fucked up. This is non-negotiable, he thrives on chaos and that's what he's intent on creating.

Anybody who passes out before him is getting something obscene drawn on their face in permanent ink. He can definitely hold his liquor, so if you can keep up with him then you can expect to be the last two living souls left conscious on the whole ship.

That being said, he doesn't care who's awake—things are going to get kinky, and he's really not bothered about anybody watching. Or joining in, for that matter. This whole operation very well may devolve into a drunken orgy if he has any say in the matter.

Then again, it may also devolve into him flopping dramatically across your lap and divulging absolutely all of his trauma in an emotionally-charged alcohol-induced rant. He won't remember it in the morning, so please do him a favor and don't remind him.

"Hey, uhh...I los—I lost my foot again. .....Sor—*hiccup* sorry."

1K notes · View notes

lipglossanon · 9 months

Text

Turbo Lover

∘₊✧───────────✧₊∘

masseuse!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

for the anon request who asked for masseuse Leon; I hope you enjoy it and thanks for your patience! 💜

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, fingering

not proofread ✍️

Title from Turbo Lover by Judas Priest

∘₊✧───────────✧₊∘

“Sarah swears by this place, so relax and enjoy yourself!”

You sigh, drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. After parking in front of a fairly ritzy massage parlor, you’ve been talking to you friend on speaker phone for fifteen minutes as she convinces you to actually go inside.

“I don’t know…”

“Please, you need to go get a massage; work has been stressful like crazy for you so do it. I’m telling you as your bestie.”

You laugh, “Okay, okay. I’ll go in and see what they have to offer.”

“See? It can’t hurt in looking.”

“I know. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Text me!”

And with that the resounding beep signals you’re sitting alone with your thoughts in the car. Sighing, you grab your bag and get out of the car. The front’s pretty minimalistic which seemed on brand for massage therapy you thought.

Walking inside, there’s the generic calming music playing over the speakers with potted plants dotted all around. It smells wonderful though, like some sort of airy floral scent that you just can’t place. You make your way to the front desk and smile at the lady behind the counter.

“Hi,” she smiles at you, “my name’s Sandy, how may I help you today?”

“Hi, I uh don’t have an appointment or anything but I was wondering if you had any openings?”

“Let me check,” she turns her attention to the computer to the side and quickly types, “looks like I have an opening with Claire in ten minutes if that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect!” she shines another smile your way, “just fill out this paper for me stating your consent and if you have any allergies we should know in regard to the oils and lotions we use. You can also ask for a chaperone at any time if you feel uncomfortable being alone.”

“Thanks,” you return her smile, a little more at ease.

You quickly fill out the empty spaces and hand the paper back to Sandy.

“Great, just please have a seat and Claire will lead you back shortly. Would you like a water or anything while you wait?”

“Oh uh no but thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

You sit down on the nearest chair and pull out your phone to kill the time. Bringing up the ebook you’ve been reading, you easily lose track of the time.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am!”

Your attention is pulled up to a blue eyed, handsome man standing between the desk and you, looking sheepish and apologetic.

“Pardon?”

“Claire was called away on a family emergency, so I’m her replacement. If you’d like you can reschedule to be with her.”

You feel like a fish out of water so you just shrug, “I mean I’m fine with it if that’s okay? If I need to, I can reschedule—“

“No that’s fine,” he smiles relieved, “I just know sometimes people get upset if they come for one of us specifically and don’t get them.”

“Oh,” you place your phone in your bag and stand, “well I’m fine honestly, this is my first time here actually.”

“Really?” the smile he gives you is nearly blinding, “I’ll make sure to make it a great experience.”

“The name’s Leon, by the way,” he turns and leads you down a hallway off to the side.

You feel a little warm as Leon walks in front of you. Since you didn’t give it much thought, you really didn’t realize you could have such a hot guy giving you a massage. His biceps stretch his sleeves while his broad shoulders and back strain against the shirt fabric. Your eyes drag from his sandy hair down to his tight ass. Praying for good luck, you just hope you don’t embarrass yourself in front of him.

Leon pulls open a door near the end of the hall and gestures for you to enter. He follows you inside and points out where you can sit your bag and shoes.

“I can step out if you want to take off your shirt and pants then lay down face first on the table; but, if that’s uncomfortable for you, it’s 100% fine to stay fully dressed and we can get started.”

You glance over at the massage table and then around the pretty spacious room taking in the counter full of oils, lotions, heating stones, and towels.

You turn back to Leon to find him watching you, his face soft and earnest.

“I think I’ll get undressed.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Okay,” he nods, “you can just set your clothes on the chair next to the table if you’d like. Then once you lay down you can pull that towel up and over your body.”

He steps out of the room and firmly closes the door. You pause for a moment and once you’re sure the door’s completely shut, you undress and lay your clothes off to the side. Climbing up onto the table, you lay flat like he suggested and lay the towel over you.

A few minutes pass and then Leon knocks on the door, cracking it open so he can ask, “Is it okay for me to come in?”

“You’re good.”

He steps in smiling brightly again.

“Great, since you booked Claire, she usually does the 60 minute full body massage, is there anywhere you don’t want touched or injuries I should know about?”

You shake your head, “Nope.”

“Alright,” he steps out of your line of sight and you can hear him shuffling through items.

“Just let me know if you get too hot, cold, thirsty, or just uncomfortable and I’ll do whatever I can to accommodate.”

“Thank you, Leon,” you murmur.

“Of course,” his voice is warm like his hands when they come down on your shoulders, slick with some scented oil that smells like coconut.

He asks you simple questions as he works: what you do for work, favorite places to eat in the city, any fun hobbies in your downtime, etc.

He pulls you into easy conversation and has lulled you into state of complete relaxation by the time he’s finished.

He curses under his breath and you hum questioningly.

He sounds a little embarrassed, “Well, I got carried away and lost track of time. But I swear you won’t get charged extra.”

“S’okay,” you laugh, feeling gooey and comfortable, “definitely worth it. Best I’ve felt in ages. I hope I didn’t cut into your other client’s time.”

“Oh no, I was headed home for the day when Claire asked me to cover.”

“If I would’ve known that I would’ve rescheduled,” your tone turns pouty, “Leon, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, smoothing his palms down your back, “this was really enjoyable. Most people come in and completely ignore my attempts at conversation.”

“No way,” you’re affronted on his behalf.

His hands glide down your sides making you sigh, “Yep, just not interested I guess. But you were wonderful.”

You’re glowing from the inside at his words, always a sucker for praise.

“No, you were wonderful,” you finally get out, “I was kinda nervous. But you got a repeat customer.”

He laughs delightedly, “What a bonus.”

You giggle and squirm as his fingers dig into your lower back, “Well I can get ready and take off.”

He digs his thumbs in right above your tailbone making your hips arch up as you moan.

Feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed, you tug on the towel, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Leon laughs, “Don’t apologize, it happens more than you think.”

“Oh,” the embarrassment still makes you feel like folding in on yourself, wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Besides,” he presses you flat down onto the table again, hands quickly returning to where they were, “sounded pretty good to me.”

His thumbs repeat the action, digging into the tender spot of your lower back making you keen and rock up.

“There we go,” he coos, “just relax, I got you.”

His hands drag down to your inner thighs, massaging the muscles.

“Leon,” you whimper making him groan.

“I got you honey,” his thumbs glide up from your inner thighs up to your panty covered pussy, stroking your slit through the damp material.

“Think you need an extra special service for being so goddamn sweet,” he murmurs.

He stops to grab the band of your panties, “Is this okay?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, brain already mush and he hasn’t really done much.

He quickly pulls your panties off, tossing them over to your clothes. Pushing the towel up until it’s pooled on your lower back, he caresses your bare skin softly. He pushes your thighs open wider.

“Fuck, pretty little pussy, need to lick her open, see if she’s as sweet as you.”

He pulls you down closer to the edge of the table, so he can get between your legs easier. He spreads open your cunt and spits on your hole.

You keen at the feeling and he does it again.

“Ready?”

“Please, Leon.”

Without any other preamble, Leon buries his face into your pussy with a groan. His tongue laps up the spit to thrust it into your drippy hole. He hums and drags his mouth over to your clit, suckling the sensitive bud until you’re squirming.

He pulls away and twists your hips, “Fuck, baby, turn over for me.”

You quickly comply, spreading your thighs again but he folds your legs and pushes them up as he goes back down on you.

“Oh god,” you wrap your arms around your thighs to hold yourself open for him.

He shows his appreciation for that by sliding two fingers into your wet, fluttering walls searching for your g-spot. With a sharp whine, you rock down into his hand once he finds it.

His eyes crinkle with a smile but it’s hard to tell when he’s tonguing up into your hole along with his fingers. He pulls away and spits on your clit making your hips jump up.

“Fucking sex on legs, coming in here all sweet,” he growls as he goes back to sucking and kissing on your swollen clit, “like I haven’t been wanting to taste this hot cunt inches from my fucking hands.”

“Fuck, Leon,” you mewl, eyes fluttering as he rubs against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy over and over and over.

“Want you to cum all over my mouth,” he lashes his tongue against you clit before sliding it across your pussy lips, “get me soaked.”

He sucks your pussy lips into his mouth then moves to nipping at your thigh before drifting back to your sensitive clit.

“Fattest fucking pussy,” he groans, sucking your hard bud into his mouth making you cry out, hands shakily letting go of your legs to tangle in his hair.

“Oh ‘m so close, gonna cum,” you whimper, rocking down into him, holding his head against your pussy.

He groans, eyes flicking up to yours as he fingers you harder and faster, mouth never letting up as he sucks and licks over your clit.

“Oh, oh, oh, fuck,” your thighs tense and try to close around his shoulders as your back bows, pussy gushing slick as he lets you ride out your orgasm on his fingers and face.

You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you can’t stop humping against his mouth as he extends your climax with his fingers on your g-spot. Slick is coating his face and jaw when he finally pulls away, your orgasm ebbing into pleasant aftershocks.

You laugh feeling high on endorphins, “That was amazing.”

“Oh,” you raise up on your elbows, “what about—“

You waves you off with a grin, “What do you think I was doing with my other hand?”

You bite your lip as he stands, spent cock bobbing as he cleans off with a nearby towel. A pulse of want blazes through you.

“Next time, honey,” he laughs seeing your glazed expression and tucks himself away.

“Think of this as an appetizer,” he winks, helping you up and redressing yourself.

“I’ll definitely be back,” you laugh, kissing his cheek as he holds the door open for you.

“I hope so.”

He gives you a short wave when you make it to the end of the hallway. There’s a new lady behind the desk, Carolyn, and she’s more than happy to book you in for Leon’s next available appointment.

#masseuse!leon s kennedy #masseuse!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #masseuse!leon s kennedy smut #masseuse!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut

630 notes · View notes

thelovelyruin · 6 months

Text

𝖇𝖇.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓: a pretty girl with a fast car, and choso just can’t get enough.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.2k

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from bb by shygirl.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! racer choso is back by popular demand, i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I like bad boys, and I know they love me.

When Choso first saw you, you leaned against a GT-R, talking to a guy next to you, another girl in the passenger seat. God, you were sexy. You wore a black patent leather dress and red heels to match. You had your hair up in one of those claw clips and wore a pair of red shades, a gloss covering your lips as you smoked your cigarette. Your legs were on full display, a couple of tattoos here and there, and the chain that adorned your ankle didn’t go unnoticed either. He hadn’t seen you around before, but he was sure he would’ve noticed you out of all the girls who came out and took photos with the cars or stringing with their boyfriends. You were far too relaxed talking to the guy next to you, definitely not the behavior of someone whom you’d just met, so he figured he was your boyfriend. Unfortunately for him, Choso didn’t fucking care.

They say I've got a type; I just think they're lonely.

He walked up to the guy to start a conversation, shaking his hand, intending to use it to talk to you. He had to be respectful before he stole his girl, right?

“Hey, Choso.”

“Yuuji, what’s up.”

“Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“You’d be right, came out to support a friend.”

Choso pointed past him to the car; damn, she was a beauty. Looked full bolt-on, sitting on bags with a badass body kit, but the cherry red wrap really drew him in, presumably your suggestion to Yuuji.

“Fuckin’ nice, dude, what’s it running on?”

“E85.”

You walked around the car, interrupting their conversation. You leaned on the hood as you looked at Choso, him taking a surprised look at you and then back at Yuuji, who was currently chuckling.

“Sounds like she knows her stuff, huh.”

“‘Cause it’s hers.”

You smile at him and wave, bringing your cigarette up to take a puff again. Choso was in shock, smirking at the little joke both of you were trying to pull.

“Yeah, no way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means a pretty girl like you isn’t whippin' a ride like this.”

“Yeah? Why’s that? Give me the least sexist reason you have.”

Choso wiped down his face in disbelief.

“Now, fuck off while I still think you're cute.”

Choso gave a look to Yuuji, who gave one back that said oh well, dude. Choso didn’t have a lot of flaws, but there was one that was pretty damn big- his fuckin’ ego.

It's cold on these streets, or so they tell me.

“So race me, princess.”

“Whatcha drivin’?”

“Twin turbo MK5 Supra.”

You started laughing at him, taking your shades off to get a good look at him.

“At least make it worth my while!”

“Really? Then why not? You sound pretty fuckin’ confident.”

You get up from the hood now, throwing your cigarette on the ground and stepping on it as you give him a straight look. A Supra was nothing to sneer at, especially with twin-turbo, but it had nothing on your GT-R runnin’ 1800 HP.

“Because I know I’d fuckin’ win. I’d hate to beat you in front of everyone, considering I’m new here.”

“If you’re so sure, let me see you do it.”

You brought your lips up to his ear, grabbing his shirt as you raised to his height.

“If you insist, dollface.”

I keep the conversations brief; we ain't friends, but he'll see.

Your friend got out of the car as you told her what was about to happen. She chuckled and walked with you to a big group of people huddling in the middle of the lot, taking bets. She got their attention, and they looked at her with unserious faces.

“This fucker wants to race my friend. Start a pot.”

The guys got a good look at you and Choso, obviously not taking you seriously, which led to a $15K pot, $3K from Yuuji and Mai on you, and the other $12K on Choso. Yuuji drove your car to where you’d start on the line, Choso driving his. You two looked at each other as you let down your hair, passing the clip and jacket to Yuuji.

“Ready?”

“Are you? Might wanna lose the heels, princess.”

“No need.”

You two got into your respective vehicles, Mai standing between them to raise her hand as you revved your engines. Then, you were off.

Different faces but the road stays the same.

He fuckin’ lost.

You got out of your car with a smirk, putting your jacket back on as the group of guys from before praised you, practically kissing your feet, and just like that, you were $5K richer. Choso walked up to you as you headed back to the lot, walking alone as Yuuji and Mai gathered your prize money. He began clapping, causing you to turn around and smirk.

“Good job, you beat me.”

“Told ya so.”

You leaned against the car now, presumably reaching to pull out another cigarette as Choso put his arm up on the door next to you.

“You're pretty fuckin’ cocky, ya know that?”

“Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it, sweetheart?”

Every man's a drilla till he's in the bed calling my name.

Choso slammed his lips against yours, putting his other arm on the car, caging you in. You returned the kiss, bringing a leg up to his hip, which he accepted, standing between them and massaging the skin there. The feeling of his hand gripping your ass sparked something inside, slipping your tongue in his mouth as his other hand found the back of your neck. Your dress was pretty damn short; anyone walking by would’ve gotten quite the view. He slipped a hand up your chest, groping your tits as you moaned, lips moving to your neck.

You can run and hide; I’m running game.

You brought your hand down his hips, pulling his phone out of the front pocket. With a little push, he stumbles back as you put his phone up to his face, unlocking it. You typed something, handing it to him as you brought your face up to kiss his cheek. With that, you turned and walked, laughing as you left Choso flustered, trying to understand what happened. He looks at his phone, your number staring back at him.

“In case your itchin’ for a rematch.”

Only one winner in this bitch, and I win everything.

Coulda been fucking with a guy; my vibe.

When Choso initially texted you, it was because he did want a rematch. But he also wanted to finish what you guys started the other day. You’d been on his mind as he was working on his car, working out, even when he was, you know. And fuck, you were hot. Constantly posting pics of yourself on cars, often with little clothing, you’d made a career out of modeling. Sometimes Mai was in them with you, you guys being pretty involved with the community. So, why hadn’t he seen you before? It was itching him; the car meets were city-wide, so you had to have come from somewhere else. I guess that answer would come as he got to know you.

“Plans later?”

“Depends, whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess so. Time?”

“5.”

“See ya then.”

“You got it, princess.”

He hung up the phone, grateful. He’d been nervous that you only saw him as the asshole you beat, but luckily, you liked him enough to let him take you out, and kiss you, and grope your tits. Fuck, he was getting hard.

You picked out your earrings as he pulled up; that backfire could be heard from a mile away. You wore a leather top and skirt today (if you could even call it that) and a pair of knee-high boots. As you walked up to him, you smiled and bit your lip, looking into his eyes as you crossed your legs. He had to clear his throat after gazing at your figure, too focused on the hem of your skirt to think appropriate thoughts.

“Hey, princess.”

“Hey there.”

“You look pretty damn good.”

“When do I not?”

Fuck, you were on your cocky shit again. Choso opened the door for you, helping you into his low seat. As he got into the car, he got an eyeful of you, not even caring if you noticed. Which you did, bringing his chin towards you until your lips nearly touched his.

“Hungry much?”

“I am, actually.”

“So, you’re taking me for dinner?”

“You got it, angel.”

He smiled as he sat back, bringing his hand down to your thigh. Now you were pretty hot, but it wasn’t until you shifted gears for him that he was tempted to fuck you in his back seat; he was continuously arguing with his dick to calm down. You guys pulled up to a hotel, parking in the garage, too scared to let the valet drive his car. He guided you through the lobby and to the elevators and met with an attendant who requested your reservation. With a flash of Choso’s screen, she called the elevator, inputting a code and pressing the “RT” button.

“You two have fun!”

With that, you guys were brought up to the 30th floor. Getting off, Choso spoke something to the hostess standing outside the doors. When you guys pulled up to the hotel, you weren’t expecting to see the open restaurant atop it. Directed to a table on the overlook, the hostess thanked you both and called your waiter. Now, this was fuckin nice. The restaurant had ambient lighting, a fire pit in the middle of the rows of tables, and a view of the city below. You looked over at Choso, who was looking back and forth between you and the overlook.

“Nice rez.”

He perked up at your comment, getting the validation he wanted from you. He hated that you’d made him like this, eating up all the attention you gave him. The loss was enough to humble him, but the comments on your photos were not for the weak. And weak he was, for you, of course.

“Thanks. Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Well, depends. What’re we doing after this?”

Choso looked you up and down, eyes lingering on your legs as he licked his lips.

“Anything you want, angel.”

You blushed a bit, averting your attention to the waiter who had walked up to the table.

“Cosmopolitan, please.”

Picked one who was pretty; you know I like a pretty guy.

After a few drinks and a nice dinner, his gaze fell back to you, looking over the restaurant's railing. You were so fuckin' pretty. Cheeks flustered from the alcohol, your usual stuck-up demeanor a bit more relaxed, just like your lips fixed slightly open, almost in a pout.

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

“It was pretty good, thanks.”

You crossed your legs, smirking as you looked into his eyes.

“So, what’s your endgame here?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, you’ve taken me out, been textin’ me almost every day for the past two weeks, pretty much-”

“I want you, real bad.”

He’d leaned into the table now, hand caressing your thigh underneath it.

“Is that so?”

His hand began sliding up your leg, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt.

“Want you to be my girl, that is, if you want to.”

His hand began to go beyond your skirt, fondling with the strap of your thong. Suddenly, the waiter returned, handing Choso his card back and thanking him for the visit. When he turned back to you, you were already standing, reaching out for his hand so he could lead you two back to the car.

“I’ll think about it.”

God, I don't give a fuck, but I guess I always do.

As you walked through the lobby, you got a text from Yuuji in the group chat.

"Some dude’s talkin' shit. Says you got lucky the other day with Choso, hadn't raced against a real ride."

"A real ride? What's that fucker driving?"

"He has a few builds. Don't know what he'll pop out with."

Mai opened up the messages, responding to the two of you.

"Okay, if he wants it, he can get it. What time?"

"9."

You checked the time: 8:23. Choso had stopped, seeing the look of irritation on your face.

"What's wrong?"

You showed him the chat, obviously irritated.

"No problem, we can swing back to yours and head over."

"There's not enough time for that. I'll have Yuuji and Mai meet us there with my car."

With that, you both walked to Choso’s car. He’d had a few drinks, so he was feeling pretty good. And by pretty good, he was fingering you on the way to the meet. A thirty-minute drive = 25 minutes to play with your pussy, and he was more than happy to take that option. The only issue was you were concentrating on changing the gears, putting your lives before your pleasure, but you weren’t gonna lie; it was a hard decision. A little tipsy, you were feeling loose, legs wide open to him so he could touch you, alternating between fucking you with his fingers and rubbing your clit. You were loud, too, moaning his name as his pinky held the fabric of your panties to the side so he could fuck you properly. He was in love with you, at least with how you rubbed your hips into his fingers, begging to cum. Unfortunately, that came to an end pretty quickly, getting yourself together as Choso pulled over. He wanted you to get a chance to cool off, kissing you as you fixed your panties and pulled your skirt back down.

As you pulled up, people recognized Choso’s car; that deep purple wrap was his staple. They didn’t expect to see you stepping out of it, recognizing you as the girl who beat him two weeks ago, taking a smoke before shit went down. You looked around the lot; you saw Yuuji and Mai hadn’t quite arrived, reaching down to shoot a text to-

“So, you made it, bitch.”

This asshole walked up to you as you sat on Choso’s hood, his arm unwrapping around your waist as he stood before the guy. Now, while it was admirable that Choso was ready to fight for you, you had to fight your own battles, and if this fucker wanted one, he was gonna get it. You pulled Choso’s arm back, walking up to the guy yourself. This guy was taller than you, not as tall as Choso, but you still had to look up at him as you spoke.

“You said a real ride, huh? What would that be?”

“Porsche 911 Turbo S.”

You smirked at the guy, laughing in his face as he looked at you, pissed off.

“Don’t make me fucking laugh! No, really, you should be a comedian! That damn twin turbo isn’t gonna take you far, sweetheart. That and your horsepower is just as short as your cock.”

The guy got closer to you, grabbing your wrist, making Choso almost fuckin’ pounce on the guy, but you raised your hand to keep him back.

“You talk a lot of shit, girl. Heard you came from the tri-state; whatcha doin’ down here? Tired of losing?”

“The opposite actually, got bored winning against all those dicks back home, so I moved out here for a challenge, which obviously, I’m not gonna get. Now, get your sweaty hand off me before I ash my Marlboro on your arm.”

He retracted his arm, face twisted.

“So, where’s your car bitch?”

“On its way, what, getting hard in anticipation? She is pretty damn sexy.”

“What, did you come here to talk shit?”

“Far from it, slow your brakes, and maybe I’ll let you cum. She’ll be here shortly.”

“Gotta wait to clap your sad excuse of a GT-R. Bet you’re shit with anything else; you pick one of the easiest imports to call your baby.”

Choso had had enough of this shit. He walked up to you and put his car keys in your hands, looking up at the guy with a look that said he was ten seconds away from getting his ass beat.

“Then race her in my car, unless you’re just a yappy bitch.”

If it isn't wrong, then I'm not looking out for you.

You both went to the starting line, Choso driving it up and doing the road test. As two guys from the group prepped your lanes, you looked at Choso in concern as he leaned against the car.

“Ready, princess?”

“What if somethin’ happens, I don’t wanna fuck up your car.”

“Trust me, if somethin’ happens, the last thing I’m thinkin' about is this car.”

“So, be my passenger.”

“That means you really can’t fuck up my car.”

You smiled at him and jabbed his shoulder, pulling him in for a kiss. You two walked over to it, hopping in and getting strapped up. He brought a hand over to rest on your thigh, moving it soon after so you could move the gear shift. As a guy walked between the cars to flag, Choso took a good look at you. You looked the most serious he’d ever seen you, eyes forward as you patiently waited for the flag to come up. It was hard for him not to look at your skirt, riding up from how you sat in the seat, panties probably sitting on the-

Choso hadn’t even realized the flagger signaled the takeoff. You reached 100 in 3.5 seconds, pushing him back in the seat as you shifted gears to accommodate the rapid change. From the passenger mirror, he could see the Porsche falling behind, obviously not matching the launch of Choso’s car. As you passed the finish signal, you began to slow down, Porsche catching up. You come to a complete stop now, starting to back up to the starting line. You looked good, hair messy and face flustered, eyes blown from how intense you had to concentrate and the adrenaline pumping through you. Probably the vodka, too.

You hopped out of the car, waiting for the asshole to pull back in, smirking at his loss. He got out of it, even angrier than before, cursing out the flaggers and accusing them of fucking with the signal. Right on time, Mai and Yuuji pulled up in your car, handing you the keys.

“We miss something?”

This time, Mai had replaced Choso as passenger princess, buckling herself in as they warmed the tires. The asshole flipped you off as he returned to his Porsche, obviously holding a grudge. Probably because there was a $40K pot now, and $30K of it was on you. This didn’t take very long at all. The second the flaggers cleared you, you were gone, but this time, his Porsche was neck and neck with yours. As you pulled back, guys were already arguing about the win. Everyone was in outrage; most people were pissed off and claimed loss on a $40K pot. With that, they agreed to review the footage in slo-mo, getting back to everyone as soon as they determined the winner. The cocky asshole smirked, saying things like, ‘We know I won,’ and ‘Tell that bitch she lost.’ You rolled your eyes and lit your cigarette, not like there was anything you could do but wait for the results. Yuuji and Mai said bye as they drove off in Yuuji’s 340i, leaving you and Choso at your car.

“You did good, princess.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you up and down, licking his lips again with half-lidded eyes.

“Let me show you how good you did.”

Only making eyes at a bad boy, one or two of the crew.

“Fuck!”

You practically couldn't get off each other after you and Choso met at your house, even forgetting to lock the front door. He didn't even bother taking you to your room; he had to get your thong off as soon as possible. And now, he was lapping you up on the couch as you pulled on his hair. Shit, he could eat pussy. Your eyes were rolling back, so blissed out you couldn't tell if it was the aftermath of three cosmos or just how good his tongue worked in and out of you. He was going wild, sucking at your clit a little harder every time you said his name, arms wrapped around your legs to pin you down and get you as close to his face as possible. You tasted so fuckin' good; happy to indulge in it now; licking you off his fingers earlier was just a tease. He licked you a little faster as your thighs began to tense on the sides of his head; he could tell you were about to cum. You groaned his name the loudest you had so far and finally let go. He was fuckin' drowning, and he loved every second of it. He was so fuckin' proud of you, not just because you came for him, but also because you beat that asshole earlier.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, give it to me.”

As you came down, you got up, walking Choso back to your room. You pulled your top overhead and lost your skirt, naked, as you pushed him back to sit on the bed. You work fast to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down, taking his boxers down with them. He helps you out by removing his shirt, not nearly fast enough for how quickly you’d gotten on top of him, straddling his hips as you moved your pussy back and forth over his shaft, begging him to fuck you. Well, how could he say no to that?

If you got an attitude, I'ma take a ride with you.

Choso lifted your hips a little, sinking you onto his dick slowly as you anchored yourself on his chest. You were moaning so fuckin’ loud, throwing your head back as you bounced up and down on his dick, finally finding the relief of his teasing all day. His hands gripped your hips, meeting your hips to thrust into you until, eventually, you started to slow down, getting tired from fucking him so fast. So, he sat up, adjusting you so you were on your knees, straddling his waist as he bounced you up and down on his dick. He groaned your name over and over in your ear, bringing a hand up to hold your back, bringing your tits into his chest before bringing his head down to suck at them, still fucking into you at a dangerous pace. He almost felt selfish for how fast he was fucking you, but you were so high on cumming earlier that you took every thrust he gave you, giving him those pretty whimpers every time he hit that special spot inside of you, but you needed him to keep hitting it, wanting to waste no time.

“Baby, make me cum again.”

“Yeah, baby? Want to cum for me again?”

You tried to say yes, but Choso was already flipping you over; he was on top of you, pushing his dick back into you, hitting that spot immediately. Fuck, he was consistent, ramming his hips into yours right there, reaching your hand up to grip his hair and bite his neck as he drilled into you. You were so fucking close, scratching your nails down his back as he took you exactly where you needed to be. You became undone on him, moaning his name into the room as you gripped his back and the sheets.

“Yeah, baby, cum for me. Fuck you feel so good…”

He fucked you through your orgasm; the spasms of your pussy, as you came, made him feel like nirvana, fucking into you deep as he chased his high. Within seconds he came inside of you, fucking his cum deeper into you as you held him, spent from overstimulation.

You can run and hide; I’m running game.

Choso rolled over, falling next to you on the bed, practically gasping for air after cumming so hard. He’d wanted you for so long, and seeing you in that outfit all night had made him feral. You got up first, putting your hair up in a clip as you walked to your bathroom to clean up, and as much as he didn’t wanna see you go, the brilliant view of your ass as you walked out the bedroom door made him want you to leave. You came back and cleaned his dick off, which he thanked you for with a kiss and a slap to your ass. Getting in bed with him, he wrapped his arms around you as you rested a hand on his chest.

Suddenly, your phone lit up with a text from Mai in the group chat. You opened the message, a slo-mo recap of the race from earlier. You had passed his Porsche ever so slightly, and the organizers declared you the winner of the race. Not like you’d ever think you’d lose.

Only one winner in this bitch and I win everything.

♱ the song used in this story is bb by shygirl. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

219 notes · View notes

shybunnie20 · 6 months

Text

Eddie Munson x Alt!Fem!Reader

★Teaser ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie seeks Steve's assistance in wooing you, but it doesn’t go the way he planned.

Author's Note: This was so fun to write! I don’t think it turned out particularly angsty tbh. There's a little bit of Halloween in it, 'tis the season.

Proofread to an extent. 90s AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Reader is vaguely depicted: wears black, has tattoos and piercings (no amount or locations indicated for either), enjoys spooky movies, and likes metal music. Happy ending!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol consumption, includes more swearing than usual

The sun hangs low, blowing kisses of dusk through the streaky panes of Family Video. Inside the store, the sporadic popping of kernels sets the tone for the evening shift.

When it comes to this job, unboxing shipments of snacks is the one task that manages to hold Eddie’s fleeting attention, simply because it gives him an excuse to wield a box cutter. Alas, today is not one where a shipment has been delivered. He’s more or less getting paid to hang out and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leaning beside the register, Eddie lazily flips through a dated issue of Rolling Stone magazine. He’s not even reading the articles, just skimming the pictures.

In the documentary section, Steve is busy restocking the shelves. “I heard Keith’s giving out a plaque for 'Least Productive Employee' this year. If ya ask me, I think you’ve got Robin beat.”

“That’s debatable,” Eddie licks the pad of his finger and flips the page. “You’ve got it handled, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but there’s plenty of stuff that needs to get done before we get slammed tonight.”

“I’m doing my part,” Eddie raises his head and a smirk slowly overtakes his bored expression. “Someone’s gotta keep the front counter company. It gets lonely.”

“Aw, how touching. Of all things, you’ve found true love with a piece of furniture,” Steve scoops up the bucket of go-backs and sidesteps to the neighboring genre. “That’s gotta be the closest thing you’ve ever had to a relationship.”

Burn, but an accurate one. Eddie isn’t a Casanova but there’s nothing wrong with that, not at all. He’s got his hobbies and friends, what point is there in trying to convince the town that he’s up for a little romance? Besides, the absence of encounters means that flirting isn’t in his wheelhouse.

Eddie looks down at the face of his Casio, reading that it’s nearing seven o’clock. “Hey, do we still have a copy of Beetlejuice around?”

“I doubt it. All of the spooky shit has been going like hotcakes since Halloween is right around the corner.”

As customers trickle through the door, Eddie shifts to the computer system and types hurriedly on the keyboard. “Fuck, it’s gotta be here,” He abandons the register and searches the store.

Steve opens a case and snaps it closed, entirely oblivious to the commotion until Eddie whizzes by in his peripheral vision. “Okay, this is a whole new level of obnoxious,” Steve huffs. “Why are you so hell-bent on finding that specific movie?”

“Because she’s probably gonna wanna rent it, and if we don’t have it…” Eddie trails off as he flies by on the other side of the store.

“Cool your jets, turbo,” Steve notices that more people are coming into the store so he waves Eddie over. The last thing they need is a lawsuit because an old lady got plowed down. “Seriously, what gives?”

Wheezing at the end of the aisle, Eddie hunches over and bows his head. He grips his knees for dear life while he tries to catch his breath. “There’s this girl.”

Steve’s feathered brows mirror the nosey tone of his voice. “Who is it? Do I know her?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie coughs. “But she stops in every Friday night.”

“News flash, butthead. It’s the busiest day of the week, that’s not exactly narrowing it down,” Steve feels a creeping presence over his shoulder. Speaking of old ladies; he peeks, just to find an elderly woman encroaching on his personal space to view the titles that he’s blocking. “Sorry,” he says halfheartedly before directing his coworker toward the register with a toss of his head. “Is it Tara P.?”

“Nope,” Eddie follows and plops on the stool furthest from the computer. “She wears a lot of black, has tattoos, piercings-”

Steve shakes his index finger. “Okay, yeah, I know who you’re talking about now. She’s always dressed for a funeral,” He snorts.

“I know, isn’t it hot?” Eddie sighs dreamily while he tugs at his green coil key ring, stretching it as far as it’ll go.

“I mean, if you’re into that kinda thing,” Steve shudders dramatically. “Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“I’m definitely into that,” Eddie gnaws on the soft pink flesh of his lips as he pauses. “There’s this aura around her, y’know? Not just her looks either, it’s her energy too.”

“Dark and brooding, huh? That’s what gets ya going?” Steve switches to his customer service voice as he checks out the elderly woman with minimal back and forth.

“Yeah, whenever she’s around my hands get all sweaty,” Eddie looks down at his large palms that are growing slick from discussing you. “She hangs out at the bar where I play. God, just seeing her makes my heart sing.”

He loses himself in thinking about seeing you at Wraith. You’re the only one that he strives to impress but he has yet to. You dance to other bands but not Eddie’s. Sometimes you nod your head to the beat, though it’s never enough for you to acknowledge his existence.

“Pass me a barf bag,” Steve gags. “Makes your heart sing?”

“Whatever, dude. It’s not like you’re gettin’ any action with your Harrington charm.”

“Excuse you,” Steve looks at Eddie pointedly. “I almost got that girl’s number on Monday, thank you very much. She was totally digging me.”

“Was she, though? ‘Cause she left without giving you her digits,” Eddie chuckles mockingly and tilts his head. “How many more times do you have to strike out before you finally throw in the towel?”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who canoodles furniture,” Steve scoffs. “Don’t come for my manhood. At least I have the balls to make a move.”

“So many moves, and yet, so few takers!” Eddie throws his head back and laughs boisterously.

“Put a sock in it,” Steve groans.

Speak of the devil. Eddie spots you walking into the store, just as you always do at this time. “Oh god,” He gulps and his joints lock, freezing time and space simultaneously. His mouth is slightly agape as the world comes to a standstill. His vision narrows to a tunnel, rendering him deaf and mute.

Steve snaps his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. “Jesus, man. Try to act somewhat normal,” he rolls his eyes. “If you even know how.”

Eddie does not know how especially not after being literally snapped out of his trance. His palms are clammy, his breathing is rigid, and he’s dizzy as all hell. “Look at her,” He whispers. Christ, you look so fucking pretty today.

“Are you trying to catch flies, dude?”

“No,” Eddie scowls, promptly tightening his lax jaw. “Fuck off.”

Steve takes notice of your figure moving down the aisle and turning in their direction. “Duun dun,” he begins to imitate the Jaws shark theme. “Duuun dun,” As you approach from the other end of the store, Steve gets progressively louder. “Dun dun dun dun dun-”

“Quit!” Eddie barks through gritted teeth and kicks Steve’s calf. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Ow, that was uncalled for,” Steve bends over to rub his leg in an attempt to soothe the ache.

“Jesus Christ! She’s coming over here,” Eddie paces in the cramped area, nearly colliding with Steve when he pivots. “What the fuck do I do? I don’t know how to be Mr. Cool Guy.”

With your chosen film in hand, you are in fact approaching the register. Steve’s voice becomes discernible as you get nearer. “...if you keep acting like such a wuss. Grow a pair and just-”

“Shut up! Shut it,” Eddie makes it appear as though he’s doing something productive to the snack display, but he’s really just shifting the packets of Skittles around.

“Just this,” you confirm by setting down the tape and digging into your purse. The atmosphere feels tense, to say the least. You’ve clearly interrupted something. It’s plain to see on the other employee’s tomato-red face.

Steve offers a straight-lipped smile and scans your membership card. “Find everything alright?”

You hum in response. While he carries on with the transaction, you notice how peculiarly still the other guy is. “Hello,” you greet him softly, hoping to ease the atmosphere.

Eddie’s hands come to a halt and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Heh,” He meant to say “hey” but only the first letter made it out alive. As you pay for your purchase, his mouth is still moving and he doesn’t know why. “That’s a good one,” he gestures to the movie.

You startle inwardly, not having anticipated an actual conversation to start. He seems nice enough. “You’re a fan of scary movies too, I take it?”

Eddie nods timidly. He flexes his fingers to combat the overwhelming numbness that’s plaguing his hands. His heart is beating so goddamn hard that it’s on the verge of bursting through his chest and landing wetly at his feet. “Yeah, I like them. They’re good. Really good.”

“Agreed,” While you tuck your wallet away, a polite smile rests on your face. “I was actually in the mood for Beetlejuice but it doesn’t look like you have it,” Your smile falls ever so slightly.

The sight causes Eddie’s pounding heart to twist and plummet to his ass. He’d give you every copy on the planet if he could.

Steve listens in over the sound of your receipt printing. His brows arch in genuine surprise that Eddie knew you’d want that movie tonight. Creepy, but impressive nonetheless. “Sorry about that,” Steve tears the paper from the machine and hands it to you. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” you nod, accept the receipt, and pick up the tape. “Have a good night,” you say to both of them and head out.

Once you’re through the doors, Eddie clutches Steve’s forearm to ground himself in reality.

“Ugh!” Steve yanks his arm away to escape the muggy grasp. “That’s gnarly, man.”

“Do you believe me now?” Eddie wipes his sopping palms on his jeans.

“Oh, I believe you, especially after witnessing that. I’m pretty sure Henderson has more game than you.”

Eddie returns to the stool with a plop. “Just kill me already,” he rubs his face, sighing. “Put me out of my fucking misery.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” Steve laughs to himself. “Anyway, back to Little Miss Dead Inside. What’ve you tried?”

“Nothing,” Eddie drops his hands and slouches in defeat. “I don’t think she even knows my name.”

“You gotta give her a reason to,” Steve continues conversing from over his shoulder while he checks out another customer. “What about notes? Y’know, old-fashioned love notes.”

Eddie scrunches his nose. “I dunno about that.”

“It’s right up your alley, Shakespeare. Besides, the ladies love melodramatic shit like that.”

Eddie suddenly perks up. “Wait, I could be totally anonymous! She could figure it out on her own. That way she comes to me and I don’t even have to approach her.”

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“This could totally work,” Eddie motions to Steve’s head. “Who woulda thought there’s a few marbles rollin’ around in there.”

“Ha-ha,” Steve continues to slowly but surely shorten the line. “Don’t think I’m helping you.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Eddie hops up on the counter beside the register. He swings his legs with newfound optimism and tears open a package of red vines. “You’re obligated to help since it’s your idea.”

“I absolutely am not, and I have no interest in being inadvertently bitten by some vampire chick. Leave me out of it.”

“C’mon, I’ll owe you big time,” Eddie begs with his mouth full of waxy candy.

“You have to clean the restroom for two weeks,” Steve declares with a smirk.

“No fucking shot,” Eddie points with a half-bitten licorice rope. “Pick something else.”

“Do you want help or not?”

Eddie did indeed want help, so he agreed to the bullshit terms and conditions. He can scrub a toilet, no problemo. Honestly, he’d polish a hundred of them with a toothbrush if that meant you’d step into his life. You’re worth cleaning toilets for.

After closing up shop for the night, Eddie sits at his desk in his bedroom until the early hours. He writes draft after draft, struggling to find words that are forward and inviting without coming on too strong right off the bat.

Upon your arrival the following week, Eddie is shaking like a leaf. He listens to your interaction with Steve while being partially concealed behind a tall cardboard cut-out. Despite not being able to see you, he can see your lips forming the words in his mind. Your voice alone is making him weak in the knees. Eddie’s certain that if you don’t hightail it out of here soon, they’ll buckle and his cover will be blown.

Once he’s certain you’ve left, Eddie releases the breath he’s been holding since you walked in. “How’d it go? She didn’t see you put the note in there, right?”

“Why are you even asking? You eavesdropped the whole time. Yeah, it went fine, she didn’t notice.” Steve grumbles.

“Okay, cool,” Eddie chews on his thumbnail. “Shit, what if she thinks it’s creepy? What if she thinks it’s the lamest thing ever? Fuck, what if-”

“Dude,” Steve closes his eyes and holds his hands out. “You’ve gotta stop.”

In the comfort of your home, you plop down in front of the VCR and open the case that holds the reels of this evening’s entertainment; a movie you’ve rented a few times before, but not enough that you could quote it. Instead of a hard plastic shell, your fingertips find wrinkled notebook paper. Your brows furrow as you inspect it, shredded pieces dangling from where it was yanked from the spiral binding.

You unfold it three times.

In the aisles of the video store, I've found a treasure unsurpassed. Not on the shelves, but in your eyes, I fell so fast.

It’s a prank, whatever the fuck this is.

Never in your life have you ever thought about Steve, like, at all. You’re aware of his reputation, that he apparently has the tendency to be douchey and arrogant. But the more you think about it, he’s nothing like that when you interact at Family Video. Maybe he’s not that judgmental and he sees past your midnight exterior. This note is stupidly genuine and endearing. Who would’ve thought he had it in him? Certainly not you.

That’s the thing, though. Steve isn’t your type and you’re certainly not his. But you can’t recall a time when he’s ever looked at you like you’re some kind of freak. Most guys do, that’s something you’ve grown used to over the years and learned to ignore. This poem basks him in a new light, and you’re not quite sure how to process it.

Like clockwork, you’re back again but this time your chest is thrumming. The note could’ve been a fluke or maybe it was meant for someone else, you’re not entirely sure. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be the intended recipient. Right now, it would be ideal to appear composed but you’re already wearing an unusual expression—a pleasant one—while you make your way to the drama section.

Tonight, it’s Robin and Eddie holding down the fort. As your combat boots scuff across the forest-colored carpet, Eddie can feel your arrival in his bones. He’s immediately seeking you out and when he locates you, he just about faints. Admiring from afar while manning the register, his mind races. Kissing is what’s on the curiosity menu tonight. Eddie wonders what flavor of toothpaste you prefer. If he could just get a little taste…

You meander your way around the shelving and through the dotting of customers. Eddie snaps his head in the opposite direction to avoid being caught staring. The sudden motion causes a pinch in his neck and he winces.

Lost in his own little world for a minute or two, Eddie’s attention is violently brought forward when you place a tape down in front of him. He buffers, noticing how you look subtly disappointed all of a sudden. He can’t imagine why, but he hates it with every cell in his body. Eddie fails to greet you and instead, he stares at your wine-painted fingernails as they tap the surface of the case.

“Is he not here?” You glance around with a lack of determination.

“Steve? Er, no. He called in sick,” He clears his throat harshly, all of the moisture drying up in his mouth by the millisecond.

“Oh, okay,” Over your other shoulder, you admire the new promotional display that was put out during the week.

Eddie seizes the opportunity to slip the second note into the case. His hands viscously tremble despite his best efforts to steady them. “Not to worry though, I can check you out way better than that walking hairdo,” Stop while you’re ahead, man. “Ring you up, I mean. I can ring you up better… than him.” Jesus fucking Christ.

“You’ve got quite the mane yourself,” A smile blooms as you look into the chocolate pools he has for irises. “I like your curls,” You can’t help but softly giggle at how bug-eyed he goes at your compliment.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie bites back the cheek-splitter of a smile threatening to form. His trembling hands tingle unbearably from being able to make you laugh, despite not knowing what he did to earn it. He grabs a packet of M&Ms from the rack and slides it across the counter to you. “Here, free of charge.”

Your tightly sewn brow is accompanied by a slight pout. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense,” Eddie insists. “Everything’s on the house.”

“Is this some loyalty reward thing you guys do now?”

“Right on the money,” Eddie winks.

“Sweet,” you chirp. It’s as though your spirit has been replenished by saving a few bucks. “Do I get one of those little punch cards? I love those things.”

With the way your eyes are shimmering over a stupid piece of paper; Eddie would build you a house made of punch cards if that’s what you wanted. “Yeah,” he searches aimlessly. “But, uh, we haven’t gotten them yet.”

Your gaze finds his name tag and then returns to his flushed face. The corner of your mouth quirks as you notice the faint freckles dotted across his cheeks and nose. “Okay, well, thank you, Eddie.”

“No need to thank me, I should be thanking you! You’re a valued customer,” he exclaims. “My favorite of them all!”

“If you say so,” you exhale with amusement and turn to leave. “See you around.”

Eddie holds his palm open as a farewell gesture until you’re out of sight. He then brings his hand directly to his forehead in a ruthless smack. “You’re my favorite customer,” He mocks himself in a nasally voice.

With the press of a button, the register drawer launches open with a thunk. He nonchalantly retrieves his wallet, plucks out a five-dollar bill, and tucks it under the stainless steel clip to pay for your “free” movie and candy. Eddie finds Robin staring at him with a knowing look on her face. “Not a fucking word, Buckley. Not a word,” he glares, to which she throws her hands up in defense.

You couldn’t possibly wait until you got home to see if there would be another note. As you hop into the driver's seat of your car in the parking lot, you find an identical piece of folded paper. Your heart pitter-patters with the assumption that Eddie is in on it and he did Steve the favor of delivering this one for him.

With your illuminating smile, Baby Ghoul, you're the moonlight in my darkest night.

This note takes you by surprise for a different reason. It feels far more personal to be bestowed with the cutest goddamn nickname you’ve ever been given; ghouls are so metal. You obsessively reread it through the duration of your movie, while you brush your teeth, and as you lay in bed. You’re swooning over each messily penned letter, memorizing the spots where the ink drags and smudges.

It’s a bit difficult to imagine Steve saying this to you, but your insides are lurching at the thought. You hold the note to your chest and squeal.

The following visits are heavenly. Eddie loves seeing you bounce around on the balls of your feet like you’re on cloud nine. It’s becoming damn near impossible to fight the urge to smile because he knows that you’re looking forward to his imminent written affection.

Note after note, confidence simmers in his belly from seeing how the expression of his feelings is affecting you. To know that he’s the reason you’re glowing like this is turning his brain to pudding. Not tapioca, though. Ew.

With wide puppy dog eyes and a glossy lower lip, you present your past-due rental to Steve. He sucks his teeth, crosses his arms, and scolds you playfully. You successfully get out of paying the fee by simply batting your lashes at him.

Steve is eating this shit up. While you might not be his flavor of choice, he’s suddenly feeling open to sampling the femme fatale vibe. You’re beautiful, he wouldn’t waste his breath denying that. Not to mention, you’ve got a great sense of humor, considering you’re laughing at his awful jokes. That’s something he will admit—they’re bad.

Eddie doesn’t have to hear the conversation to know what’s unfolding. He feels like he’s gonna hurl when Steve leans down to shorten the distance between the two of you. He's supposed to be the middleman, not stealing Eddie’s thunder. In hindsight, there haven’t been any hints at his identity and Eddie’s been too chicken shit to give them to you except for the other day when he had no choice.

To put it simply, he’s torn. Eddie wants to scream that he’s your admirer, that he’s the one who dreams of you, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t possibly reveal that it isn’t dashing Harrington who’s pining for you, but instead, it’s the dork. That would be a world-crushing level of disappointment.

This deal turned out to be a massive ego boost for Steve. The conversation is easygoing and it quickly progresses past small talk. The best part is that you haven’t even mentioned the notes. You think he’s some poet when in reality, he doesn’t even have a clue of what they say. You’re smitten without him having to bend over backward to impress you. He’d be nuts not to take advantage of it.

During closing time, Eddie stomps around while collecting the flimsy trash bags full of receipts and candy wrappers. For the past hour, he’s been pondering ways to “take care” of Steve. Sadly, it would be tricky to avoid raising suspicion if he suddenly disappeared, but hey, a guy can dream.

After dishing the silent treatment all night, Eddie finally speaks up. “You think you’re pretty clever, huh?”

“What?” Steve briefly looks up from counting the cash drawer.

“Cut the crap. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Eddie drags a clunky vacuum out of the cramped utility closet and unwraps the lengthy cord.

“It’s not that serious. Look, it’s not my fault that she’s into me.”

“Is all that hairspray finally soaking into your brain? She’s not into you,” Eddie growls, throwing the canary-colored cord to the carpet. “She likes the person who’s writing to her. Last I checked, that’s me.”

“Yeah, but she thinks it’s me,” Steve shrugs. “She’s happy, I’m happy. I don’t see a problem here.”

“The problem is that you know how I feel about her,” Eddie retorts while staring daggers. “The shit you’re pulling is really fucking unfair.”

“Life’s not fair, buddy. It’s not like you’re gonna do anything about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Eddie mutters, clenching his jaw as he turns around to plug in the vacuum.

“Will we?” Steve snickers. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.”

It’s Saturday night and Eddie’s praying to every conceivable higher power that you’ll be here. You don’t come to Wraith every weekend, but when you do show, he’s nothing short of a nervous wreck.

He peeks out from behind the velvety black curtain of the concrete stage. Eddie’s heart stops when he finds you in your usual booth. You look hot, so so hot. It’s already hard enough to perform in front of you but when you look like this? Oh, brother.

Every year, you look forward to coming here on Halloween. Your friends have gone all out with their costumes and the hours you spent getting ready were well worth it. The typical dark and dingy ambiance is heightened by the plastic skulls and bones strung from the ceiling. Your drinks emit wisps of dry ice fog and each table has a bowl of candy.

Seated at the end of the booth, your eyes drift from your drink to the floor. There you find a pair of dirty white Reeboks. Your gaze travels up the lanky figure shrouded in navy coveralls.

Eddie twists his ring around the base of his finger and the glide is effortless, thanks to the premature perspiration. “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” your expression reflects a mix of hesitance and confusion, though you maintain a kind demeanor. “Eddie, right?”

“Yeah,” She remembered my name. Eddie motions to your getup. “I like your costume. Elvira, right?”

While you may not be sporting a ceiling-high black wig, your costume is unmistakable. “Right on the money,” you flash a pert grin, quoting him from the other day. “And you’re a…”

“Supposed to be Michael Meyers,” he clarifies, pulling a plastic knife from his oversized back pocket. “The mask was too hot to wear so, I guess I’m a killer repairman?” Max’s borrowed mask was indeed suffocating.

“Or a plumber who secretly dreams of being a professional chef,” you shrug, your irises glistening with humor.

Okay, so far so good. Talking to himself in the mirror for an hour is really paying off because he’s not a bumbling idiot for once. He could be imagining things, but it looks like you’re leaning closer. Maybe you’re just trying to hear him better over the music. He shouldn’t be overanalyzing your body language but it's the only thing keeping him vertical.

Eddie wants to prove Steve wrong but most of all, he wants to tell you how incredible you are. He’s not sure that you’ll want to talk to him after this. You might be hurt when you realize that you’ve been misled and he’s not the one you want. There’s only one way to find out.

The sound of his band getting set up beckons him. “Show time,” Eddie shakes jazz hands with the toy knife still in his grip. Of course, he just had to make it weird.

While he’s playing through the usual set with Corroded Coffin, you don’t pay them any mind, per usual. Their final song is a new one. Eddie may lack the confidence to confess, but he’s gonna sing this with all of the moxy he’s got.

In this world of shadows, what else is there to do

Wanna explore life’s cemetery with you

Your haunting beauty tells no lie

The one thing I cannot defy

The familiarity of the lyrics floods your head. You look up and find his dark, gleaming eyes locked onto you. Your heart leaps in your throat as he repeats the verses. Eddie leaves no room for uncertainty, confirming that the lyrics are pulled from the notes you’ve received. The tone of his voice is raw and passionate as he sends his affection across the room.

As soon as he steps off stage, you’re on a mission to find him. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to find you beaming at him. Eddie finally allows himself to do the same, all the while blushing with exhaustion and anticipation.

“Hey, again,” you stare down at your shoes and scuff them against the floor. “You sounded great up there.”

“Yeah?” he swallows hard. “You liked it?”

Your eyes snap back up to his. “All of it, every single word.”

“I’ve got like half a notebook’s worth of stuff like that,” Eddie chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Is that weird?”

“Far from it,” you tilt your head toward the bar. “I’d love to hear what else you’ve got to say.”

Eddie hovers his hand over the small of your back to guide you through the crowd. “I’ll sweet talk you until the sun comes up, Baby Ghoul. Anything for you.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

Consider reading From Bar to Billboard, I worked really fucking hard on it 🖤

★My Masterlist

★Tip Jar

tags:@nj01@tlclick73

242 notes · View notes

beskarandblasters · 1 year

Text

Looking Out For You

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Summary: You rarely help Din grab his bounties but this time is different. Din’s next bounty brings him to Coruscant to the Outlander Club where he might require your help…

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, established business relationship between you and Din, creepy guy at the club, fingering, vaginal sex, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, slight degradation, possessiveness, jealousy

“No. Absolutely not,” Din says, folding his arms.

“Aw come on. Why not??” you protest.

“Do you really think I’m going to willingly put you in a dangerous situation?”

You sighed. Din just got his next bounty from Greef Karga. This time you were on Coruscant and you would be going to a nightclub. And not just any nightclub, the Outlander Club in the Uscu Entertainment District. The bounty is a bartender there so a Mandalorian in full beskar strolling in there would not be discreet. So you offered to lure the bounty away from the bar where Din would be waiting to strike.

“Din, if you go in there your intentions are going to be extremely transparent. You need to go a more inconspicuous route,” you say shrugging.

He lets out a long, modulated sigh, sounding exasperated.

“Fine, but I’m not happy about it,” he says, lowering the exit ramp of the Crest and stepping out onto the docking bay.

“So… if we want to make this believable I’m going to need some clothes that are more believable,” you say, gesturing to your t-shirt, cargo pants and lace up boots. You know, clothes that don't really scream nightclub.

“Alright, we’ll get you some new clothes. Let’s take a turbo lift down to the Lower Market District and see what’s there,” he says.

He led you to the edge of the docking bay towards the turbo lift. You both step inside and start descending several levels, looking out at the vast sea of skyscrapers, people and speeders around you. You don’t know how you feel about Coruscant. It’s a marvel of technology and breathtaking at night. But it’s also overcrowded and full of nefarious activities right under the Republic’s nose. It’s a complicated place.

You reach your stop at the Lower Market Districts and step out of the turbo lift onto the busy street. The Lower Market Districts are full of people hustling, looking to make a quick credit, cutting deals and just trying to make ends meet. They sell just about everything here from clothes, creatures, and food down to illegal goods. There was even a droid spa. You and Din were weaving in and out of the different shops and stalls, looking for clothes and dodging aggressive salesmen. Finally you stumble upon a shop that sells women’s clothes. You gaze at the shop window, looking at all of the short skirts and dresses they sell.

“I think this will do?” you say, turning to look at Din.

“Whatever you want. I’ll wait out there but take these,” he says, handing you credits.

“Thanks. I won’t be too long,” you reply.

He gives you a slight tip of the helmet and with that you walk towards the shop door. It automatically slides open and you step inside. You start to glance around at your options. They’re beautiful dresses for sure but nothing you’re used to wearing typically. The woman at the back counter looks up from the holo-pad in front of her and notices you.

“Ah hello miss! Is there anything I can help you find?”

“I’m just browsing but thank you,” you respond.

She comes out from behind the counter and steps towards you.

“Shopping for any event in particular?”

You didn’t really know what to say. It’s not like you can tell her the truth; that you’re going to act as bait to help your bounty hunter partner.

“Girl’s night out!,” you lie.

“Well then let me show you our selections over here,” she says, leading you to a rack of clothes a little past the back counter.

“I think you’ll find something here. Let me know if you need any help!” she says before returning to the counter.

You thumb through the different dresses hanging up, mentally noting a few potential options until you find the dress. It’s a little short but that was to be expected. It has thin straps and gathers at the waist, fanning out slightly at the bottom. It’s the perfect color to compliment your eyes and your hair color. And it has pockets. You decide that you’ll get it and some strappy sandals you see on the shelf behind the rack. You go up to the counter to pay and the woman says “What great choice! This is definitely your color. Have fun tonight!” You give her a small wave as you leave and head outside to meet Din.

“Ready?” he asks. You give him a nod and the two of you start walking back to the turbo lift. After the trip up the docking bay, you walk to the Crest and step inside to start getting ready. You hop in the refresher and do your hair and makeup. Once you’re ready you step out of the refresher to find Din holding a comlink.

“Here-“ he starts before cutting himself off. You see the visor on his helmet trail up and down your form before snapping himself out of it and continuing his thought. “It’s a comlink. It’ll always be on. That way if something goes wrong I can come right to you,” he says, holding it out to you.

“Thanks,” you say, slipping it into one of the dress pockets and feeling a blush creep to your cheeks.

“Let’s go over a plan. You’re going to go into the club and head to the bar. His name is Maro. Order a drink from him and talk him up. Karga said there will be a shift change. After he gets off his shift lead him outside to the back alley where I’ll be waiting.”

“Sounds good. Are you ready to go?”

He nods and you head down the exit ramp and through the docking bay, making the same trek you made earlier except this trip would be longer to get to the Uscu Entertainment District. The journey was silent. You could feel the glare of Din’s visor practically burning a hole into you as he snuck quick glances at you.

Finally you arrive at the Uscu Entertainment District. A seedy place full of people and neon lights. You start to feel nervous for a second. This type of place isn’t your typical scene but you know it’s only temporary; only to get the job done.

Before you come upon the Outlander Club, Din stops you and places a hand on your shoulder.

“You’ve got this. I’ll be in the back alley listening the whole time. As soon as you get him to the back alley I’ll take it from there.”

“Got it,” you nod, the braveness you were feeling before subsiding.

He rounds the corner and you watch him disappear into the crowd. You take a deep and head towards the club, stopping to gaze at the sign above it written in Aurebesh. You go inside and it's an instant sensory overload. It’s packed full of people drinking, dancing, betting on pod-racing and grav-ball, and dealing drugs. You can feel the music vibrating every bone in your body. The smell of smoke and alcohol hangs heavily in the air. There’s a plethora of creatures of various species everywhere from workers and clubgoers. You spot the bar in the middle of the club and head there, dodging dancers and drunk people in the process. You hop up on one of the bar stools and scope out the bartenders. There’s two men. They’re both wearing name tags but they’re too far away for you to read them. One of them must’ve caught you squinting because he starts making his way towards you.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

You read his nametag, also written in Aurebesh. Maro. That’s him.

“Uh yeah. Can I get a Bespin Fizz?”

He looks down to the low cut top of your dress and then back up at you. Ew.

“Anything for a lovely lady like you. Be right back,” he says, with a wink.

Ugh. It’s going to be so hard to flirt with him.

He comes back with your drink, a deep red color with a cloud of steam.

“Thanks,” you say, taking a sip.

“So, what does a pretty girl like you do in a place like this?”

“Uh, I was supposed to meet some friends but I think they bailed on me,” you lie.

“What a shame. If I had plans with you, I’d never bail.”

“You’re too kind,” you say. He doesn’t seem to react much answer so you turn up the charm.

“Let’s see how tonight goes and maybe we can make those plans happen,” you say, smirking before taking another sip of your drink.

“I like the sound of that. Tell me about yourself. What do you do?”

You give him a vague story about how you work as a mechanic at a docking bay here on Coruscant. At least it wasn’t a complete lie. He tells you about his life, born and raised here on Coruscant, just started working as a bartender a few months ago. It makes you wonder what he did before he started working here. Surely, something that warranted a bounty being placed on his head…

“I’ve had such a great time talking to you and I don’t want it to end. My shift is done in forty minutes if you want to take this elsewhere…” he says, an eerie tone to his voice.

“Yeah sure,” you smile.

He smiles back at you and leaves to tend to other customers. You take a deep breath. It’ll all be okay. As soon as you get him to the alley Din will take over.

You watch him mix drinks for other customers and every time he catches you looking at him, he smirks or winks at you. Ugh. You can’t wait for this to be over. You pass the time by ordering more drinks, figuring you’ll need off the alcohol you can get to get through this. You think about Din in the back alley, listening to all of this over the comlink. You wonder what he’s thinking. He was against this idea in the first place.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a presence behind you, whispering against your ear.

“Ready to leave, gorgeous?” Maro asks.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice him leave from behind the bar.

“Sure, let me just pay.”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s all taken care of,” he says, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Thanks,” you say, hopping down from the stool. “Let’s get out of here.”

You walk to the front of the club and leave, with Maro slipping an arm around your waist; his hand getting dangerously low…

You start walking towards the corner you left Din at; the one that leads to the alley behind the club. You let him paw at you and squeeze your waist as you walk. Once you come upon the corner that leads to the alley you stop.

“You want to do it here?” Maro says, gesturing to the alley. “I’m not going to complain.”

You ignore his comment and grab his hand, leading him further down the dark alley and hoping to find Din soon. Without warning, he presses you against a building and starts making out with you. He’s annoying but at least he’s a good kisser. You feel his hand graze up your thigh and an involuntary moan slips out of your lips. He deepens the kiss more and grabs one of your hands and places it over the bulge over his pants.

But before it can continue any further you hear the sound of something being knocked over. Both of you stop and search for the source of noise. You see a trash can by a dumpster lying on the ground. Still not comfortable enough to resume kissing, Maro scans the alley even more looking for the cause of the fallen trash can. Din steps out from the dumpster and before he can even pull out his blaster Maro is sprinting for his life away from you shouting about how he was set up. The kid was actually pretty fast. And Din was standing there doing nothing, not bothering to pursue him.

You turn to Din and shout, “What did you do that for?! We almost had him!”

He’s silent, taking a step towards you. You fold your arms over your chest.

“Well?! Why did you do that?” you press further.

“...I was just looking out for you. I didn’t like where that was going.”

“You could’ve just grabbed him. I had him distracted.”

“I don’t care about the bounty anymore. Just you,” he says, taking another step towards you so that you’re pressed against the building again.

“Don’t you understand how hard that was; to listen to you two flirt with each other while I couldn’t do anything about it.”

He hand grazes up your thigh under your dress, getting close and closer to your center. His gloved fingers trace your warm sex, which was rapidly getting wet.

“I bet only I can make you wet like this,” he continues, parting your lips with his fingers and working circles around your clit.

“Oh Din,” you moan. That drives him crazy.

“Yeah that’s it, mesh’la. Say my name.”

You moan his name again and spread your legs slightly. He takes the opportunity to plunge a finger inside you, pumping in and out. The skirt of your dress rides up more, leaving your thighs exposed. More small moans and whimpers slip out of you as he slides another finger in, applying pressure to that perfect spot inside you. Your orgasm washes over you as your pussy clenches and convulses around Din’s fingers. You feel the heat swell inside you as you come down from your orgasm. He pulls his fingers out of you and slips his cock out of his flight suit, already hard. He slides your juices from his hand up and down his cock. And in one swift motion he’s picking you up slightly, pressing you against the wall and sliding his cock inside you, splitting you apart. The sensation has you going fucking insane because you practically cry out Din’s name.

“Better be quiet unless you want someone to catch us,” he growls before slamming into you once again.

You physically can’t make yourself be quiet. Your moans grow louder and louder, as he slams his hips against you, his cock practically hitting your cervix.

“Din. Din please I can’t be quiet,” you moan against him and he relentlessly fucks you against the wall.

“I bet you watch someone to catch us you filthy girl. You want someone else to see how good you take my cock??”

You’ve never seen him like this at all. But you’re not complaining. He slams into you more as he drives his cock further and further into. You feel like you’re being split open at this point. But it feels so good. You’re entirely blissed out, getting drunk off the feeling of his hard cock pressed against your g-spot. Your moans are becoming incessant and it’s making Din absolutely feral.

“You like that, mesh’la? You like when I pound you like this?”

All you can do is whine. One of his hands makes its way to your hair and you say, “Yes, Din. It’s so good. I’m getting close,” you moan, near tears at this point.

“Let me have it, mesh’la. Let me feel that pretty pussy cum on my cock.”

The combination of him saying that and his cock plowing into you sends you over the edge. You feel your entire lower half tense up and then release, sending you into pure euphoria as he continues to fuck you through it.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl. Ride it out for me.”

Your pussy flutters around Din’s cock, also sending him over the edge. His cock convulses before coating your inside in his warm release. He continues fucking you through it until he goes soft. He slides out of you and sets you back down the ground. And at this point you’re a sweaty, trembling mess.

You’re both silent for a moment, catching your breath and coming down from your high. You speak first, “Was someone jealous?” you say, a smirk evident in your voice.

“He was trying to take what’s mine,” Din says, visor gazing down at you. “I couldn’t let that happen. I had to show you who you belong to.”

“But what about the bounty?”

“Who cares. We’ll just get another one from the guild…”

He’s silent again, gazing down at you before he whispers against your ear. “We’re never doing that again, understand? You’re mine and I’m never using you as bait again. This is for me and only me,” he says, hand gripping your chin.

“Y-yes, Din. Only you,” you say sliding the skirt of your dress back down.

He grabs your hand and leads you out of the alley saying “Come on, let’s go back to the Crest so you can be as loud as you want.”

You smile to yourself as you walk, excited to take his cock in multiple ways on the ship and sleep like a baby after.

End note: I had a lot of fun with this! Did y’all notice the drink from Star War’s Galaxy’s Edge in Disney? 👀 As always let me know your thoughts! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. And send me any requests you have!

Tag list: @leithatnight @readingfan @harriedandharassed @babygirlrex0504 @dreamingofdaddydin @bearsbeetsbeskar

409 notes · View notes

alinxpg · 4 months

Text

Ok can we appreciate how King Candy/Turbo looks in Kingdom Hearts Union X?

👉👈💖💖💖

Edit: Wtf why did I just realize that Turbo has white teeth? xdddd

They whitened his teeth 😔

#wreck it ralph #king candy #turbotastic #turbo wreck it ralph #turbo wir

121 notes · View notes

thefallennightmare · 2 months

Text

Fika-Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson: 1/2

*made by @madomens. check her out!*

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

Pairings: Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson x OFC.

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

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

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

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

ASTRID

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“IT’S WD40!” I yelled back.

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

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

“Uh, Astrid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s that high-pitched voice again.

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

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

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

“Listen, lady, all due respect-.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unclog the bathroom sink.

Order more cold foam.

Personally show Sean the correct measurements.

WD40 the front door.

Set up the new turbo oven.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi! Welcome to Fika!”

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

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

“Uh, Astrid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, it’ll be $3.25.”

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

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

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

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

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

Could this day get any worse?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looks good.”

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

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

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

I raised a brow. “Who?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“UH, ASTRID! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!”

Son of a bitch.

ASTRID

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

“No,” the sales rep deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Astrid, my dear!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry for the wait.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you were the one that found him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Black coffee with two scoops of sugar.

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

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

He hummed low. “What do you recommend?”

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

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

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

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

Finally, he shrugged. “Surprise me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you Swedish?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joakim.”

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

“You can call me Jolly,” he chuckled.

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

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

“It’s Swedish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. “It means divinely beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“LA’s Book Ladies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JOLLY

“Son of a fucking bitch!”

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

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

“How's your coffee?”

“Would you like a refill?”

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

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

Another thing she baked herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, welcome to Fika!”

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

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

“Hi,” he smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On the house,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Understatement of the year.

“I’ll tell her; soon,” I said.

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

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

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

ASTRID

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, not everyone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

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

“Of course,” he nodded.

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

“This is Astrid,” I answered the call.

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

“Fika,” I corrected with a stern voice.

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

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

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

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

His usual booth in the corner by the large window.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve decided not to sell?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My cheeks burned as I shifted in my seat.

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

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

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

“Are you sure about that?”

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

“Astrid, the delivery truck is outside!”

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

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

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

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

“How have things been?” I asked Jessica.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And break your heart in the process.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As I finished saving his contact, Jolly responded.

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

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

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

Joakim: I’m looking forward to it.

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

ASTRID

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” Jolly smiled.

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

"Hey you, the usual?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

Noah's eyes brightened. “Yeah?”

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

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

“Hi, I’m Astrid.”

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

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

Jolly licked his lips. “Definitely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair enough,” I nodded firmly and chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Astrid.”

I shivered at the way he said my name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, I’m Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, käraste.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would?” I questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

To let me go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want me to come with you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONTINUE TO PART TWO HERE

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

67 notes · View notes

ptersparkers · 1 year

Note

OH MY G O D YOUR HOT WIFE X NEIGHBORS FIC INSPIRED THE MOST CHOOSE ME LOVE ME SCENARIO IN MY HEAD. so for the sake of this story let’s say aaron doesn’t have a kid. what if you’re away on a business trip but that’s when he moves into the house officially, and you’re not gonna be home for a week. so the girls across the house don’t know that he’s married since you don’t help him move in (obvs) and they try to flirt with him and he’s panic calling you and you come home and BAM they’re embartasssed

hi! i’m so glad you liked it. hope you don’t mind that i made y/n the breadwinner here x

***

Aaron panics when he realizes you aren’t in bed next to him when he wakes up. But then he remembers you’re on a business trip on the west coast.

He dropped you off at the airport on Sunday morning and couldn’t wait until you came home. The timing was incredibly terrible too—you’d been asked by your superior to attend a conference to represent the hospital you worked at, all while moving into a new house. You had only moved in your clothes and mattress before you had to leave.

Aaron took Monday off to help the movers load everything into the U-Haul trucks. They were parked out front and Aaron helped unload the boxes in the vehicle, telling everyone where his belongings should be placed. He’s grateful your incessant need to label every box came in hand.

After he tipped each mover handsomely, Aaron ordered takeout and caught up on reports for the thirty minutes he let himself eat. But the boxes were calling his name and he knew there were more things from his apartment he could fit into his car with a few trips.

He cleans up and heads out to the car that’s parked in front of his house when he sees two girls approach him.

“Hi,” one of them greets.

“Hi?” Aaron says, though it sounds more like a question.

“We noticed you’ve just moved into the neighborhood and wanted to introduce ourselves,” the other says.

They tell Aaron their respective names and Aaron gives them a tight-lipped smile before giving them his name. He excuses himself to pick up his belongings.

It’s almost second nature for Aaron to recognize when people are looking at him. It’s the caution of his job and he’s not oblivious to the way the girls from before are staring at him from where they’re lounging in the front yard.

Aaron makes the mistake of glancing in their direction when he makes the turn onto his street. One of the girls waved at him and he snaps his gaze back in front of him.

The two of you agree to keep your 911 Turbo in the garage while his car sits in the front street until the boxes occupying his space are put away. Aaron starts to move the boxes into his house when the girls approach him again.

“Hey, Aaron,” Girl One greets.

“Need any help with these boxes?”

“No thanks,” he says honestly.

“Are you sure? You have a lot of boxes.”

He contemplates. Aaron’s not particularly interested in having strangers in his house but he doesn’t want to waste time by moving each box one by one. He needs to make one more trip to his old apartment before everything’s moved completely and didn’t want to pay the movers extra if he could do it himself.

“Sure,” Aaron says curtly.

The girls giggle to themselves and pick up each box. Aaron tells them to be careful with them and opens the door to let them inside.

“Wow, this is a big house,” Girl Two comments. “Do you live here alone?”

“With my wife,” he says, distracted by picking a place to put the boxes. He makes a motion for the girls to put the boxes down and walks to his car to get another box.

“Is she here?” Girl One asks.

“She’s on a business trip.”

“Where’d you move from?” Girl One asks, brushing her hand against Aaron’s when she picks up a container. He moves aside and back into the house.

“Around the area,” is all he offers.

Aaron decides that he’s too tired to continue moving and unpacking after he tells the girls he doesn’t need anymore help. He gets the feeling they want him to ask them to stay, especially after finding the box with liquor and other bartending tools. Aaron takes the Hawthorne strainer from Girl Two, who seems a bit too excited after his hand touched hers.

Weirded out by the day’s interactions, Aaron decides to call you before he goes to sleep.

***

It’s halfway through the week when Aaron realizes they’re trying to flirt with him. He’s so preoccupied with work and unpacking when he returns home that he doesn’t pick up the fact that the girls are the first ones to greet him when he gets out of his car.

They’re always standing a bit too close to him and speaking to him like he’s a prize and they’re the winners. It feels all too uncomfortable to him, especially when they’re putting this hands on his bicep when they approach. He always leaves them standing alone, too devoted to you to even think about what they want from him.

Aaron thinks his job has seeped into his life after work. Particularly, his sense of perception. He’s friendly with his other neighbors and has accepted a few get togethers on his and your behalf. But these neighbors aren’t interested in him like these girls are. He’s perceptive of the way they change into clothing that’s the opposite of casual, the way their voices drops a few octaves when speaking with him, and the way their hands never seem to stay by their sides.

He finds it disrespectful because they know he has a wife.

He can’t wait until you’re home. You haven’t had a moment to spare except for quick goodnight calls and good morning texts, and he misses you.

Friday finally comes and Aaron’s able to take work off an hour early to pick you up from the airport. He’s taking your 911 Turbo, knowing you likely miss your car, and backs out of the driveway with the windows down.

Aaron hears whistling coming from his left side and he doesn’t need to know it’s those girls again. He rolls his eyes and steps on the gas without realizing it makes him look that much more attractive to them.

He meets you at the arrival gate after parking your car in the airport garage and attacks your face with as many kisses as he can muster. You’re giggling at him, which makes Aaron kiss you like he hasn’t kissed anyone in a year.

“Missed you, baby,” he mutters. Aaron pulls away and kisses your forehead before taking your luggage in his hands.

“I missed you too,” you say. “I’m sorry those girls are giving you trouble.” Aaron sighs and leads you to the car.

“Nothing I can’t handle but I’m glad you’re home.”

Aaron drives while you talk about the conference and catching up with old friends from your time at medical school. You’ve got the widest smile on your face and Aaron finds it troubling to look at the road because all he wants to do is look at you.

He pulls into the driveway and opens the garage doors, parking the car inside of it. The both of you step outside and he’s about to close the door when he hears a voice from inside.

“Aaron?” Girl One asks.

She’s with her friend and they look more than startled to realize you’re standing next to him.

“Ladies,” Aaron greets curtly.

“Can we help you?” you ask.

Aaron’s not off the mark about how he described them: young, bold, and extremely nosy. The two girls are looking inside the garage and inspecting the car before looking between the both of you.

“What, you need Aaron to pick you up in his Porsche?” Girl Two scoffs.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, you just look like the type of person who would marry Aaron for his money.”

Aaron recognizes that look on your face. Your eyebrows are raised, your mouth is slightly ajar, and you tilt your head as if to ask them to continue speaking their own version of the truth.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” you begin. You gesture at the Porsche. “This is my car. I paid for it. This house? I paid for it. You don’t have the right to throw accusations about me when you’re standing on my property.”

Girl Two tries to say something but gives up. Her friend tugs on her elbow and they retreat back to their side of the street as Aaron closes the garage door.

“Who’s gonna tell them you pay for some of the house, too?” you sigh, feigning guilt. Aaron closes the door behind him and pulls you close to him by your hips as your arms move around his neck.

“You pay more than half,” he says, kissing your nose.

“Just a smidge.”

“The girl’s don’t need to know that.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotchner oneshots #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner scenarios #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner oneshot #fem reader #ask #anonymous #my writing #the pick me came out with this one

797 notes · View notes

kdinjenzen · 11 months

Text

Mortal Kombat seems determined to confuse the fuck out of players by making the titles of their games impossible to follow:

Mortal Kombat - GREAT START! FUN NAME!

Mortal Kombat II - AN SEQUAL!

Mortal Kombat 3 - TRILOGY, BAYBEEE!

Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3 - SUPER STREET FIGHTER 2!

Mortal Kombat Trilogy - SUPER STREET FIGHTER 2 TURBO CHAMPIONSHIP EDITION!

Mortal Kombat 4 - Oh thank goodness we aren’t ditching numbers!

Mortal Kombat Gold - NEVERMIND! HERES AN UPGRADE TO MK4 THAT DOESNT SAY ITS MK4!

Mortal Kombat: Deadly Alliance - This is Mortal Kombat 5, but you’d never know it by looking at it.

Mortal Kombat: Tournament Edition - An UPDATE to Deadly Alliance but ONLY FOR THE GBA!

Mortal Kombat: Deception - This is Mortal Kombat 6 and you will definitely not remember that.

Mortal Kombat: Unchained - This is ALSO Mortal Kombat 6, but for the PSP and released the same year as Mortal Kombat 7.

Mortal Kombat: Armageddon - THIS is Mortal Kombat 7… and it’s the end of the original main series. But if you think we’re done you’re WRONG!

Mortal Kombat vs. DC Universe - THIS IS TECHNICALLY MORTAL KOMBAT 8 ACCORDING TO THE STUDIO AND I HATE THIS SO MUCH WHY!?!?

Mortal Kombat - This is Mortal Kombat 9, it’s a reboot but also a sequel to Mortal Kombat 7, but it’s got the same name as the original Mortal Kombat. The only way you’ll know I’m talking about this one is if I say “Mortal Kombat 2011” and that’s dumb.

Mortal Kombat X - This is Mortal Kombat 10, and FINALLY we are back to proper numbering and done with the STUPID CONFUSING NAMES!

Mortal Kombat 11 - YES! THIS IS MORTAL KOMBAT 11! Look at how 11 it is! You know it’s the 11th game just by the number ELEVEN next to it! YAY!

And now… they just announced the newest game in the core series…

MORTAL KOMBAT 1 - THIS IS MORTAL KOMBAT 12! AND NOW WE TECHNICALLY HAVE THREE GAMES THAT COULD JUST BE CALLED “MORTAL KOMBAT 1” IN SOME WAY AND ITS SO CONFUSING AND I HATE IT!

I understand PLOTWISE why this “totally makes sense” but for literally ANYONE WHO DOESNT KNOW it looks like they are releasing ANOTHER reboot and technically NO they aren’t but YES they are and I HATE THIS!

158 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 8 months

Text

Grid Kids: Awkward Encounters

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: times when your grid kids gained way more insight into your relationship than they asked for

Series Masterlist

The Time Max Just Wanted to Sleep

Max checks into his hotel room after a particularly tiring day at the track, desperately needing some rest. But as he sinks into the plush hotel bed, he’s met with unexpected noises coming from the adjacent suite. Recognizing the familiar voices, he groans, realizing that he’s unfortunately booked right next to you and Sebastian.

Pulling a pillow over his head, Max tries to drown out the sounds but they seem to only grow louder. He paces the room, plugging in earphones and trying to blast some music. Yet, the thin walls of the hotel make it hard to escape the breathy gasps and banging of the headboard coming from next door.

Getting desperate, Max considers going down and asking if any other rooms are still available but then decides to tackle the issue head-on. Grabbing his phone, he shoots a cheeky text to you and Sebastian: Hey, mind keeping it down a bit? Some of us are trying to sleep here!

***

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on Max’s door. Opening it, he finds the two of you, looking sheepish and holding a bottle of champagne.

“Peace offering,” Sebastian says with a grin. “Sorry about the noise.”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Next time, maybe we should coordinate our room arrangements a bit better.”

You end up sitting in Max’s suite, sharing the champagne as the initial awkwardness of the evening fades away.

As the night draws to a close, Max hugs you and pats Sebastian on the back, “Thanks for the drink. But next time, seriously, a bit of discretion wouldn’t hurt.”

Sebastian laughs, raising his glass before downing the remaining champagne, “To fewer awkward hotel nights.”

The Time Lance Just Wanted Some Music

It’s a bustling race weekend and the paddock is alive with activity. Inside the Aston Martin garage, Lance is fumbling with the PA system, trying to connect his phone to the system so he can share his new pump-up playlist with the team.

Meanwhile, nearby in an unused back office, you and Sebastian steal a few moments of intimacy away from the spotlight and the stress of the race.

Just as things heat up between you two, Lance unknowingly reroutes the PA system, and suddenly, the sounds from the office you commandeered echo through the entire garage. The mechanics and engineers freeze, their eyes widening in shock, while some try (and fail) to suppress their giggles.

As the soft murmurs and distinctive sounds start echoing through the garage, everyone stops in their tracks. Eyes widen, jaws drop, and awkward glances are exchanged. The team quickly realizes what’s happening and a frantic search begins to find the source of the unintended broadcast.

Max, who ran to the garage at the first sense of drama, snickers, leaning over to Charles who joined him, never one to resist good gossip either, “Seems like Seb’s getting a turbo boost.”

Charles stifles his laughter, nodding, “Definitely achieving maximum force.”

Realizing what he’s done, a horrified Lance scrambles to correct his mistake, finally disconnecting the PA system.

***

You and Sebastian, initially clueless about the unintended broadcast, step out of the room only to be met with a chorus of playful wolf whistles and knowing grins.

Charles leans in, whispering to Sebastian, "You guys put on quite the show.”

Max, laughing uncontrollably, slaps Lance on the back, “Best PA announcement ever!”

Lance, beet-red with embarrassment, mumbles his apologies, “I had no idea! I was just trying to fix the connection.”

Despite the initial shock, the hilarity of the situation soon takes over and the entire team is rolling with laughter. Sebastian, taking it in stride, wraps an arm around Lance’s shoulder, “Well, that’s one way to boost team morale.”

You, trying to hide your blush but failing, add with a smirk, “I guess we just set a new standard for team bonding.”

Later that night, at a dinner with your grid kids, George raises his glass, “To Lance, for reminding us all of the importance of ... connecting. And to Seb and Y/N, for providing today’s unexpected entertainment!”

The Time Lando Just Wanted to Stream

It’s another busy race weekend and the paddock is buzzing with energy. Lando, with some rare free time, decides to give his fans a live behind-the-scenes tour of the paddock on Instagram.

With tens of thousands of fans tuned in, Lando enthusiastically shows off various parts of the paddock. The garages, the control rooms, and the media centers all get their moment in the spotlight.

As Lando continues with his tour, he approaches a drivers’ lounge, thinking it would be a great idea to show his fans where the drivers relax and chat.

But as he pushes open the door, camera first, he unexpectedly broadcasts a very private moment between you and Sebastian. There’s a split second of stunned silence as the three of you stare at each other like deer in headlights before chaos ensues.

“Oops! Wrong room!” Lando exclaims, hastily retreating, his face turning a brilliant shade of red. He quickly ends the live stream but the damage is done.

***

Minutes later, the paddock is buzzing with whispers. Lando, mortified by his mistake, immediately approaches you and Sebastian to apologize.

“I swear I didn’t know! I thought it was empty!” he stammers, clearly distressed.

Sebastian, although embarrassed, pulls Lando into a one-armed hug to calm him down, “It’s okay. We should have locked the door.”

Lando nods, “And I should’ve knocked.”

That evening, as your not so little family regroups, there’s no escaping the topic. But instead of letting it hang awkwardly, the grid kids decide to turn it into a joke.

Charles, holding up his phone, teases, “So, thinking of starting a new career as an influencer couple?”

Max chimes in, “Yeah, your ratings went through the roof!”

In the middle of the laughter, you lean over to Lando, “Maybe stick to streaming video games for a while, okay?”

Lando grins sheepishly, “Deal.”

The Time Mick Just Wanted a Massage

The race had been particularly challenging that week and Mick, knowing how hard everyone had been pushing themselves, thought it would be a kind gesture to gift you and Sebastian a day of relaxation at the luxurious spa resort nearby. The couple’s massage package, complete with aromatherapy and access to private thermal baths, seemed perfect.

Thinking he’d also take the opportunity to indulge in some self-care, Mick booked a Swedish massage for himself around the same time, imagining quietly de-stressing in adjacent rooms.

As he settles in for his treatment, the gentle background music and expert hands of the masseuse almost lull Mick into a nap. But just as he’s drifting off, a familiar, muffled giggle floats through the walls, quickly followed by other ... less innocent noises.

Recognition dawns and Mick’s eyes snap open in horror. Next to him is the couple’s treatment room and it appears that you and Sebastian are finding more ways to relax than what the spa menu offered.

Panicking and wanting to escape the increasingly awkward situation, Mick whispers to the masseuse, signaling that he wants to end the session early. But the sounds, both from the neighboring room and his own racing heartbeat, make it hard to communicate discreetly.

Finally, unable to bear another second, Mick bolts upright, wrapping himself in his robe and leaving behind a very confused masseuse and a half-finished massage.

On his hurried way out, he generously tips the spa staff, adding a whispered plea, “Thicker walls. Please consider getting thicker walls.”

***

After the spa incident, you and Sebastian felt the need to make amends for the unintentional awkwardness you’d caused Mick.

The next morning, Mick receives a package at the door of his hotel room. Curious, he unwraps it to find a luxurious noise-canceling headphone set along with a cheeky note:

For the next time we’re all at the spa (or anywhere, really). May these help you find the peace and quiet you truly deserve!

We are so sorry,

Y/N and Seb

Mick chuckles, appreciating the humor and thoughtfulness behind the gift. Shaking his head with amusement, he sends you a text: Thanks for the headphones! I’ll be sure to put them to good use. And no worries, it’s all in good fun!

The Time Charles Just Wanted to Play the Piano

One breezy evening, Charles, looking to relax, decides to play the grand piano in the lounge area of the upscale hotel you’re all staying in. He’s excited to show off the piece he recently composed and thinks the soft tunes would be the perfect backdrop for the sunset.

As the first notes float in the air, Charles becomes more engrossed in his performance, letting the melody guide his emotions. Guests gather, drawn by his beautiful rendition, creating a small, appreciative audience.

However, as he transitions to a quieter, more mellow piece, another sound begins to subtly accompany his piano playing. It’s coming from the suite above the lounge and the faint but unmistakable noises are in stark contrast to his elegant music.

Charles’ eyes widen in recognition, realizing the suite above belongs to you and Sebastian. Trying to maintain his composure and not draw attention to the … additional soundtrack, Charles decides to improvise.

Switching to a louder, more vibrant tune, he plays with increased vigor and volume, trying to drown out the amorous symphony from upstairs. The crowd, oblivious to his true motives, applauds his versatility, thinking it’s all part of the show.

Once his fingers are numb and you seem to have quieted down, Charles wraps up his impromptu concert with a flourish, earning hearty applause from the crowd.

Later, as he walks past your table during dinner, Charles leans in, whispering with a smirk, “Your ... appreciation for my music was evident but maybe next time, stick to clapping something other than your cheeks?”

The Time George Just Wanted to Hang Up

George is prepping for an upcoming race, headphones in, studying the track layout on his tablet. Your name flashes across his phone screen and he quickly answers, eager to discuss your plans for the weekend.

The conversation goes smoothly and as it concludes, George believes he’s hung up, returning to his race prep. However, the call hasn’t disconnected and as moments pass, he starts hearing faint, intimate whispers, quickly recognizing the familiar voices of you and Sebastian.

Panicking, George tries to hang up but for some inexplicable reason, the phone seems to be in a rebellious mood. In his flustered state, he accidentally switches the call to speaker mode, amplifying the ... private conversation for all to hear.

In a rising state of desperation and embarrassment, George mashes buttons but the phone, now seemingly possessed, continues to broadcast the sighs and moans. His face reddens, realizing that his team, busy in the adjoining rooms, can probably hear everything.

In a final bid for respite, George, driven to the edge, hurls his phone against the wall. The device shatters, mercifully cutting off the call and restoring sweet silence.

Catching his breath, George contemplates the wreckage of his phone, feeling a mix of relief and regret.

Later, when he sees you and Sebastian, he sheepishly explains the demise of his phone. “You owe me a new one,” he jokes, “And maybe a pair of earplugs.”

Sebastian chuckles while you reach up to ruffle his hair, “Next time just put it on airplane mode.”

The Time They Just Wanted to Check the Group Chat Without Having to Bleach Their Eyes

On a quiet evening as you’re prepping dinner, your phone buzzes with a new notification. Wiping your hands, you pick it up only to find a message in the group chat you share with Sebastian and your grid kids. To your horror, it’s a risqué photo of Sebastian, clearly meant for your eyes only but now out there for the entire gang to see.

Immediately, the chat explodes.

Lando: My eyes! My eyes, they burn!

Charles: Seb, trying to spice up media day?

George: Well, that’s a different kind of pole position

Max: Blackmail material acquired 😈

Lance: This is taking teammate bonding a bit too far

Mick: I can never look you in the eyes again

Sebastian, realizing his mistake, quickly responds: Oops, meant to send that to Y/N. Sorry guys

Then, because he’s still a menace at heart, adds: Enjoy the view 😉

Max, always ready with a quip, shoots back: Enjoyed and scarred for life. Thanks, Seb

You jump in, trying to diffuse the situation: Okay, as fun as this is, let’s all delete and pretend this never happened. Deal?

Your grid kids collectively agree, although the jokes don’t stop anytime soon.

***

Later that evening, you find Sebastian slightly red-faced but chuckling. “Guess I need a lesson in texting,” he admits.

“You think?” you laugh, giving him a playful nudge.

To ensure no future mishaps, your grid kids gift Sebastian a book titled “Text Messaging for Dummies” when you meet up the following weekend, turning the awkward incident into a funny memory.

It’s just another day in the unpredictable but always entertaining life with your family.

And you have to admit, it was a nice photo. You make sure to enjoy the view in real life that night.

2K notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

86jodeci

darbitch

barrowland-blog

British Archaeology Research

menallmen

MEN ALL MEN

apparatus88

Dreamer