#also I like staying in hotels it feels fancy

[double-u-qed]

10k words of sheer jazzprowl fluff. enjoy! ao3 link here. [which i recommend, seeing as none of my formatting transferred over here and i'm a tiny bit lazy]

Jazz doesn’t think he��s ever been so nervous before; his fingers keep tracing over each other, rubbing patterns into the metal. He trails them along the plates, tugs on some of the exposed wiring — a habit his mentor scolded him for often, always redirecting his attention to something else in an effort to make him quit it. But none of his mentors are here right now, haven’t been for a long, long time, so his fingers stay picking and pulling.

He’s never been to Iacon before, despite it being the capital city-state — the head of operations, so to speak. Home of the Primacy and Senate. It’s a hodgepodge of culture, mechs from far and wide settling down, so you’d think a mech like Jazz would have been there before.

But nope — never been.

So why the hell was the Prime himself of all people requesting his presence?

It didn’t make any sense. Well, it did, but — Jazz was just your regular ol’ cultural investigator, nothing special. It was just a fancy, self-given title as well; a way of saying he went to many places and dabbled in the various cultures, researching them (word to be used lightly). He had to make shanix somehow, and the music by itself wasn’t cutting it; it only made sense then to make a career out of what he likes to do best. It paid enough to keep traveling, to keep experiencing a little bit of everything, and that was what mattered to Jazz most.

How Sentinel Prime of all mechs caught wind of him and his work, he hasn’t a clue. If anything, he would’ve assumed the Prime would hear about him from his skirting of the rules before anything related to his work. He hasn’t exactly crossed that line just yet, but he’s not ruling out the possibility, either. Point is, he had trouble believing it when the message found its way into his inbox.

But as much as he tried, he couldn’t find any sign of forgery or tampering with the letter. It definitely looked legit — enough that, well. Here he is: surrounded by a bunch of fancy city mechs not paying him a lick of attention, optics glued to their screens even as the train halts to a strut-breaking stop. All in all, it’s pretty typical, but Jazz can’t help the nervousness he feels all the same.

How was one meant to conduct themselves in front of the fragging Prime? Closest Jazz has ever gotten is a Senator or two, and even then, it was mostly in passing. He hasn’t the faintest clue as to proper Iaconian etiquette. A smooth, charismatic talker he may be, a mistake is a mistake and would still be all too easy to make.

Too bad he doesn’t have more time to agonize over it. The train eventually reaches its station, the doors opening and mechs beginning to shuffle in and out. It’s a hectic mess, really, all kinds of pushing and shoving happening simultaneously. Jazz is just thankful that he manages to make it out in one piece, squeezing between two doorwingers, a litany of apologies on his lips as he wiggles his luggage through the swarm.

After wandering around lost for longer than he’d like to admit, he does eventually find his hotel. It’s not too shabby, but definitely… gaudier than it has any right being. The berth has little hanging crystals attached to it, strips of silver lining the sides. Jazz can’t help wondering if it’s all a show for tourists; give them a little feel of what it’s like to be so close to the Big Building (name pending) where the Prime resides. The streets were lined with his image, after all.

Thankfully, Jazz didn’t bring too many things with him, making the unpacking process easy enough. Unfortunately for him, that also means he has nothing left to occupy himself with; nothing to keep his mind off the fact his presence is expected real soon — less than a joor, his HUD ever so helpfully supplies.

As limited as Jazz’s knowledge of Iacon is, he’s heard plenty of rumors about Sentinel Prime and the company he keeps close to. (All in hushed whispers, of course; it’d be considered heresy to so loudly denounce a mech chosen by Primus Himself).

Sentinel’s… vain. Lazy. The type to shirk his responsibilities onto someone else, most meetings being conducted by his Right Hand more often than not. From what he’s heard, Jazz feels sorry for the poor mech, even if he was constructed during Zeta’s time for the sole purpose of being an attendant. Can’t be easy being stuck to a mech that doesn’t seem to take anything too seriously.

Speaking of which… slag. The Prime’s personal attendant had plenty of rumors surrounding himself too, none of them too kind. He was apparently a real stickler for rules and regulation, no doubt a fault of his pre-programming. He was detail-oriented, a go-getter, the type where nothing escaped his notice. He operates in the limelight and shadows both, the true iron fist of the Primacy.

If the rumors are to be believed—and they often are to be in Jazz’s line of work—then he’ll more than likely be working closely with the Right Hand for… whatever it is they want Jazz doing.

He was seriously screwed, wasn’t he?

“Oookay, Jazz-Meister; you’ve got this. Nothin’ a little sweet-talking can’t get you out of. Hopefully. I’m sure it’s nothing that important. They’d have the dogs on your trail and at your door in seconds flat if it was like that. Probably.” Thinking on it, there was no telling whether or not they weren’t scoping out the area for him already. Unlikely, but Jazz has long since learned to trust his instincts at the first sign of trouble.

It’s just that — they haven’t detected anything. And it’d be rude, maybe even enough for a court-martial, to ignore the summons even more than he already has.

Whining some more to himself, spark set on a path of shaky, nervous revolutions — he sets off for the biggest building of them all.

It’s… no better than his hotel room, adorned in gold and the shiniest of metals, the archways crystalline. Reaches straight out to the sky, proud and — intimidating. Foreboding and imposing, and any other words to say that it was fragging distracting as all get out. Two larger-than-life statues of Sentinel himself sat in the courtyard, of which is fenced off and surrounded by guards no doubt armed to the nines.

Jazz swallows down the bitter taste in his mouth, hands fluttering at his sides as he steels his resolve. They haven’t done anything, so surely that’s a good sign, right?

“’Morning,” he greets them, giving a nod. “I have an appointment with the Prime? Or one of his attendants, I’m not too sure, the letter didn’t specify.”

The guards stationed directly in front of the gate don’t move, but their optics do slide over to each other at the same time. Turning back to Jazz as one, they simultaneously ask, “Designation?”

Unnerved, Jazz stumbles over his words. “Uh, Jazz. Jazz of Staniz.”

“Designation acknowledged. Permission granted. An escort will be with you shortly; proceed.”

Thoroughly creeped out now, Jazz just flashes them a smile and pretty much scurries away, glad to be gone from their penetrating gaze.

True to fashion, the escort practically pops up out of nowhere, suddenly at his side and taking him by the elbow, leading him further into the—palace? It was practically a palace, all regal staircases and spacious rooms to host plenty of mechs in power. The front room alone was bigger than any place Jazz had ever stayed in, that was for sure.

“Wait here,” the small, red bot dragging him around says once they enter a conference-esque room. “Sentinel Prime himself will be here in a moment. In the meantime, do help yourself to any of the refreshments provided.” With that, they give a small bow before leaving.

“You call these refreshments?” Jazz asks no one in particular as he takes a seat. The treat in his hand is a spiky little thing, brittle and dusted with something he doesn’t recognize. Whatever it is, it sparkles and emits a soft glow. “How does a treat manage to be so flashy?”

Chucking it back into the bowl, Jazz leans back a bit, eyes roaming over the place. “Better yet, is everything just like that here?”

Somehow the place didn’t feel very lived in. It was personalized all right — you couldn’t take more than a few steps before running into various things with Sentinel’s image memorialized — yet somehow empty and devoid of life. Maybe that was just how rich mechs lived, with their big, fancy places.

Either way, it sure did make Jazz feel sorely out of place, shifting around awkwardly in his seat. Primus, was it ever quiet here. There was too much junk to make the noise echo, but the sound of his fingers tapping out a little diddy against the table still sliced right through the silence. Not in the good way, either, his fingers curling back into his hand after a mere klik or two of making noise. That left bouncing his left up and down and humming to himself, but even that got old soon enough.

The boredom was about to kill him when the door finally opened again, the mech of the hour and another strolling on through. Strange — Jazz would’ve expected more personnel to be by Sentinel’s side.

Ducking his head a bit to avoid Sentinel’s gaze as the larger mech seats himself across from him, Jazz’s attention is captured by the other mech that came in. He’s on the shorter side — still taller than Jazz, though. His posture belies his caste, all elegant and proud. His paints consist of white and black, his face covered by a full battle mask, and his doorwings fanned out behind him.

Now, Jazz may not be able to see much of the mech’s face, but he can make out the way the mech visibly hesitates for a moment when they make eye contact, doorwings going unnaturally still as he looks at Jazz. And he’s — glaring. He’s glaring, not just staring. His optics are furrowed, his hands suddenly being clasped together behind him as he stands by the door, turning his head to the side sharply, practically severing the contact.

Ah. The rumored personal attendant.

His behavior wasn’t too odd, then; Jazz was well aware of how he looked. His paint hadn’t been redone in a few orns, chipped and dulled all over. Public transit had never really been Jazz’s thing, deeming it a waste of good shanix, making both his modes rather susceptible to pieces of small debris scratching the surface.

Strangely though, Sentinel seems bothered by his Second’s hesitation, raising an optic ridge in his direction. He even eyes the mech up and down before rolling his eyes with an exasperated huff of air when his attendant failed to say anything. Huh.

Turning back to Jazz, the Prime is quiet for a moment. A long moment, actually. Too long. Uncomfortably long. Jazz just hopes his face isn’t giving away his building restlessness.

Sentinel places an elbow on the table, hand to his face as he finally says, “I’ll make this quick — I’m a very busy mech, after all. I need your expertise for the gala I’m hosting tonight. We’re attempting to establish better relations with one of our distant colonies; it’s said you know a thing or two about their customs. I’m sure you get where this is going.”

That — wasn’t quite what Jazz envisioned. He blinks. “I- yes? I think so?”

“Great!” The Prime gives the table a bit of a slap—Jazz can’t help his flinch—splaying his hands out as if to say problem solved. “Glad that’s been taken care of, I hate having to give long explanations. Always admirable, a mech that’s quick on the uptake. Now — you’re to remain here for the foreseeable joors until this whole thing is done with. Direct any of your questions to Prowl over there.”

That takes the other mech—Prowl—just as aback as it does Jazz. Only difference is the amount of exasperation the other manages to exude while somehow keeping his tone reasonably respectful. “You won’t be staying, Sir?”

Sentinel snorts. “Primus, no. You’re the one who recommended this mech to help us; you debrief him. I have a whole day spent agonizing over which of which looks better despite them being the exact same. This is why I hate galas so much.”

Unlike the Prime, Prowl doesn’t seem as keen on acting so lax and improper around an outsider. His words are carefully—and rather pointedly—chosen. “I’d hate to waste your time any further, then. Do take care, Sir; I’ll handle things from here.”

The Prime just raises his hand in a rather dismissive way of parting, the mech continuing to grumble to himself as he exits the room.

If Jazz was a lesser mech, he’s sure his jaw would be on the floor. As it stands, he whips his head around to stare at Prowl, disbelieving in what just happened. It- it all happened so fast. Jazz said less than a sentence! Sure, he was told that Prowl would be handling things, but that — that was just inconsiderate!

Undeterred, acting as if such a thing was a regular occurrence, Prowl takes a seat in the now abandoned chair, unsubspacing a datapad. He glances up at Jazz after a moment of simply scrolling, and it’s — tense? No, that’s not quite right. It’s… it couldn’t be. Could it?

Just as quickly, the doorwinged mech looks away, attention resolutely on the screen of his datapad as he begins to fill in Jazz on the full set of details.

“As Sentinel informed you, tonight is a crucial event for the establishment of our ties to other ruling colonies in the area. Any information you can provide would be deeply appreciated, seeing as we have had little contact with those a part of this colony ourselves.”

The cultural investigator tries to listen, giving his input here and there where needed, but his mind keeps wandering. He’d almost believed for a moment that the look from before had been timid, almost shy, but as the more time passed, the more he was certain he must’ve been mistaken. The rumors, as well; Prowl wasn’t nearly as cold as they made him out to be. He was just awkward if anything.

Only…

Prowl takes him all around the building, never once losing his rigid stance, doorwings not even so much as twitching. The most damning thing of all is his outright refusal to look at Jazz head-on. He’ll get close, their optics almost locking, before settling his gaze on something just a little above Jazz’s eyes. It’s puzzling if Jazz has to be honest.

But you didn’t get to be a cultural investigator without accepting the fact some people act in ways you might not initially understand, so he just chalks it up to being how Prowl normally is. Or maybe it’s a custom from wherever he’s from. That would make sense, actually. Ah, wait — did that make Jazz rude for trying to get the other to look at him? It probably did, didn’t it.

Feeling thoroughly chastised even though it’s just himself he’s arguing with, Jazz puts the matter to rest. He’s here on business, after all.

That’s why he is most definitely not staring when the other suddenly pulls up his mask in the middle of talking, revealing icy-blue eyes and a thin, narrow face. It just — surprises Jazz is all, considering he seemed adamant about wearing it the entire time before.

It’d be rude to stare, so he turns away.

Catching his eye, Prowl lowers his gaze, looks up at the lip of the mask still hanging overhead, casting shadows on his face, then stops walking, prompting Jazz to stop as well. “Standard procedure,” he explains, gesturing to his face. “It’s a safety precaution. Forgive me for not taking it off sooner; I have a tendency to get wrapped up in my thoughts to the point of being negligent of my surroundings. I didn’t realize it was still there until my fans pinged a warning about overheating.”

“’S all good,” Jazz is quick to assure, tapping a finger on his visor. “Just didn’t know if it was something cultural or not, didn’t want to assume or cause offense.”

Prowl seems to consider that in that silent way of his Jazz was beginning to pick up on. It wasn’t obvious that he was updating his files, if not for the way his focus seemed to dim, returning with a couple of blinks. Then he’s all nods, and they continue on their way.

The Prime’s attendant is once again in the middle of explaining something when he suddenly goes quiet, words trailing off. A frown mars his face, minuscule as it is. It’s contemplative, a stylus tapping against the screen of his to-do list. He closes his eyes as Jazz twists his body around to step in front of him.

“Something wrong?” asks Jazz when the silence stretches on.

“Not wrong, per se… Just.” Prowl’s face screws up, the most emotion Jazz has seen on it so far. He taps two of his fingers against his lips. “Sentinel decided most events of the banquet would be left to you.” Blunt, precise. “The event planning itself will mostly be done by himself, but matters are to be overlooked by you before being approved. It’s a lot of work.”

Those icy eyes bore into him, his words seemingly ending there.

Jazz stares back into those unblinking eyes, noting the way Prowl’s grip on his datapad has tightened.

Feeling brave and a little risky, Jazz asks, “Sentinel not trust your word on such matters?”

A bit of pride makes his spark spin a little faster when Prowl actually looks relieved, doorwings lowering a bit. “No,” he says, voice still monotone but holding a little mirth. “He doesn’t. Says a mech constructed cold wouldn’t know a thing about foreign matters, least of all me.”

That gets Jazz’s attention. “How so?”

“Lack of experience,” Prowl says, shrugging. “I was made with the purpose of helping out the Primacy shortly after Sentinel was added to their ranks. I’ve never had the time to experience anywhere but Iacon, really.”

“Not even Praxus?”

“Petrex, actually,” Prowl corrects, bobbing his head a bit as if he was used to having to say it. “And no, I’m afraid. So as you might imagine, there is some truth to Sentinel’s words.”

“But you have something to say anyway, I’m guessin’. Well, let’s hear it,” Jazz says, happily relinquishing some of the control and order over to the other. Planning’s never been his thing, and honestly, this entire thing has left him dizzy. It’s just a little too surreal to be real, no matter how often he bumps his leg against a wall. “Not like I have a completely clear idea of what I’m doing.”

He thought that was encouraging, but if anything, Prowl looked slightly distressed and put off by his words. He glances around them, chewing on a lip.

“Sentinel won’t like it,” he weakly tries to argue. “He doesn’t take too well to some of my ideas, despite leaving most of the work to me. I’d hate for you to be blamed if it doesn’t go over well.”

“You don’t stay as acting attendant for so many vorns without knowing a thing or two.” Jazz grins a Cheshire grin, gently tugging one of those white hands free of its death grip. “C’mon, I won’t tell. I’m sure that big brain of yours has already concocted a whole list of ideas on what to do, so tell me. I trust ya. Pretty pleeeease?”

The attendant stares openly at their clasped hands, making Jazz falter a bit in his enthusiasm, dropping it a little awkwardly. It’s — well, it’s not like he could read the other’s field before this, but now he can’t even get a single hint of what’s going on with him. His face is so impassive as he gives a small nod.

But even as everything seems all fine and business again, Jazz’s hand remains feeling a little cold, his stomach clenched in apprehension.

The gala comes and goes, miraculously being pulled off in the haphazard bit of time they had to spare. It’s not the worst party Jazz has ever been to, either. The foreign guests are a delight, laughing at his jokes and sharing bits of their culture with him that he commits to memory. The band Sentinel hired even lets him play for a bit, even if though it’s a less fancy and richly prestine song than they’re probably used to hearing.

It’s a good time overall, every mech looking happy. Even Prowl.

The battle mask is on once again, obscuring most of his face. But he’s so relaxed as he chats with his company, doorwings moving, even laughing.

He looks so… at home. So peaceful, elegant. Not at all stiff and awkward, adverse to any and all attention.

That is, he’s perfectly at ease until Jazz comes by, wanting to thank the mech for all of his help. Then, he’s a mirror of before; doorwings pulled up high, unmoving, face blank, but eyes furrowed behind the tinted glass of his mask. Jazz would almost think he’s concentrating, if it weren’t for the way his plating is pulled in tighter, tense.

It makes Jazz slow down a bit, his smile slipping. He’s not used to being hated — because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? Him being hated. Prowl had no problems looking the other mechs in the optics, didn’t seem to care when one of the governors from the distant colony put a hand on his arm, tugging on in as they told a story. The only explanation then is that Jazz has done something to upset him. But he came over here for a reason, and he intends on seeing it through. It’d be rude of him not to.

“Thanks,” he says, getting closer. “Never did get to ask you why or how you chose me in particular for somethin’ as big as this, but — thanks. It was fun, if a little hectic. Not what I’m used to usually helping out with.” He chuckles a bit, hoping to ease the tension a bit.

The other’s words are much more clipped, precise and to the point. “I was only doing my duty. It pays to know who is skilled in what is required. You were a big help tonight, so it is I, who should be thanking you.”

Despite himself, Jazz can’t help grinning a giddy grin. He attempts to play it off, hiding it behind the rim of his drink, pretending to take a sip from it. He doubts he succeeds. “Skilled, huh. Didn’t think I was skilled enough for the Prime’s Second to know of me.”

It’s minute, barely there, but Jazz swears the mech manages to just — stop altogether, a little hiss of air being pulled in through teeth. No doubt, it only means something bad, Jazz’s posture slipping back into something only half-relaxed, all cheeriness gone.

“Yes, well,” Prowl’s once again not looking Jazz directly in the face, “as I said: it pays to know. As the one who oversees most of Sentinel’s duties, it is my job to keep track of any names that come up often in conversation.” Now he’s staring down at his own drink, scuffing his peds against the ground as his fingers fidgeted against each other. “Senator Shockwave speaks fondly of you,” he mumbles.

That surprises Jazz. “Really? We’ve only spoken a few times, though…” None of those times particularly stood out, either.

Prowl nods a little more eagerly than before. “Fleeting as it was, your interaction left an impression on him. He was quite impressed with your endeavors and accomplishments, awed with the amount of places you’ve been to.”

It looks like he wants to say more, subtly shifting his weight. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything more at all, merely dismissing himself politely with a bob of wings. It doesn’t escape Jazz’s notice that his doorwings only raise once he’s on the other side of the room, swept up in the crowd of mechs dancing.

And like that, Jazz sees no more of him for the rest of the night.

The next time Jazz met Prowl, it was long after Sentinel Prime’s reign. He’d almost forgotten about the mech entirely, but then, the war happened and things changed. Jazz changed. Mechs kept getting hurt, places kept getting bombed and raided. It hurt, seeing the people and planet he loved be torn apart. It was dying, their planet. Slowly poisoned and unable to sustain itself the way it used to, public transportation lines in ruins and whole cities demolished.

No longer could he safely travel from place to place, playing songs of old and new. There was simply too much death, too much destruction, no matter how much the newly-appointed Prime tried to avoid it.

He was a good spark, Optimus. Enough that Jazz felt sure in his sudden decision to enlist in the faction he had formed. He doubted there was much someone like him could do, but hey; it didn’t hurt to try. If he was truly so knowledgeable of their planet that even Sentinel Prime had paid some notice, he wanted to put those skills to use. People always did say he was a mech of the people, and maybe that was needed right now.

So here Jazz is, lined up and waiting for inspection. His application had already gotten him through the preliminary round, so now it was time for the real test to begin.

As he expected, Prowl himself was the one conducting the inspections, even though it was rather tedious, menial work. Not really something befitting of a mech perfectly constructed for a broad variety of political work. The sight of him and his datapad is enough to make Jazz’s lip quirk in a half-baked smile. Working with the mech even just once had taught him how important control and certainty were to him, down to the very last detail. Though in the case of Sentinel, that was probably more out of a necessity than anything else. Vorns of that kind of work probably left Prowl a little more than distrustful of their new Prime.

All the other mechs in line are nervous, some even mumbling rather profane things about the Second in Command, glancing at him from above cupped hands. Cowards are too afraid to say it any louder than a whisper though. What they didn’t seem to get, however, was just how sensitive a Praxian’s doorwings can be. Careless fraggers didn’t seem to notice the subtle twitches in Prowl’s wings, making Jazz’s smile turn into a smirk he had to hide behind his hand.

Staying in Praxus and other city-states predominately populated by door-winged mechs on more than one occasion had made him rather familiar and acquainted with the various tells of a mech’s doorwings. And boy were Prowl’s wings expressive if you knew what to look for. Jazz was pretty sure he was even cursing behind that stoic demeanor he seemed to be pre-programmed with, attention on his datapad as he cussed them out. Dignity and keeping up appearances were perhaps the only things keeping him from saying such things out loud.

When the Praxian gets closer to where Jazz is, the ex-cultural investigator sees the exact moment the other truly notices he’s there. Disappointingly, not much has changed. Only this time, Prowl doesn’t have a battle mask to properly guard the small changes in his expression.

His optics flickered to where Jazz was, his lips slackening a bit as he blinked. He tilts his head a bit — more when Jazz flashes him a million-watt smile with a coy little way. It’s hard to tell what, but Jazz sees him mouth something to himself before he—rather stiltedly—turns back to the mech he’s meant to be inspecting, blinking a couple times more. Jazz can’t help snickering.

It’s still pretty obvious he’s staring whenever he can, though, as much as he wants to act like he’s fulfilling his job perfectly. Not quite in an apprehensive way, it’s almost — curious? A little wide-eyed and innocent, even if the corners of his mouth are pulled in tight, riddled with stress, straining.

Maybe Jazz hadn’t been mistaken in thinking that night hadn’t been so bad between them, after all.

“Jazz,” Prowl says, bowing his head a little in greeting once he’s standing right in front of him. It’s the very definition of polite, if it weren’t for the datapad he’s ever so intentionally hidden behind, pretending to look busy.

Jazz can’t help the way his spark sinks a little at that. Try as he might, he can’t think of a single thing that would have the Praxian reacting like this in his presence. Sure, he probably wasn’t exactly Prowl’s typical cohort, nor first choice of company, and the mech didn’t seem very social by nature, but…

Whatever. One way or another, Jazz wasn’t going to-

“I see that you expressed an interest in covert operations. Special Ops. May I ask why?” Those icy optics pin him in place, glowing bright as Prowl’s eyes go a little wide, tiny rings of lenses rotating as he studies him.

“That’s not the type of question you’ve been asking the others,” Jazz notes, confused and a little shaken off course, something he isn’t used to. He’s always been known to blurt out rather careless things when nervous, which is exactly why he doesn’t do nervous, not in things like this. “Aren’t you supposed to like, ask about combat training? Background? How serious I am about this? Things like that?”

Oops. Was that insubordination? It sure sounded like it, no matter the fact Jazz wasn’t enlisted yet and this wasn’t his superior. Yet.

Jazz might even be fooling himself, but he swears Prowl’s death grip on his datapad tightens even further. The mech lowers his gaze, raising his datapad a little higher, hiding behind it. Perhaps subconsciously, he puts a bit of distance between them, as if literally trying to un-step over some unseen boundary. “Yes, that is normally the case. My apologies.”

That… that felt wrong. Prowl was in way too high of a position to be apologizing to him so — so submissively. It felt weird, not at all fitting in with the paradigm Jazz had shoved the other mech into. Plus, it’s not like he was offended or anything, he just wasn’t sure what to do with that outlier of a question.

In a rush, he struggles to get the other to stop subtly slipping away, to stop curling away from Jazz. “No, no, it’s- it’s fine… Just a lil’ confused, is all…”

It’s awkward. Primus, take him now, it’s so awkward. Why were things always chock-full of silences and the oddest of surprises when it came to this mech? Jazz never has trouble talking! Socializing is what he’s all about! He loves meeting new people, but this guy — somehow this guy takes everything off-course, which is a rather amazing feat for someone so structured.

Shifting on his peds, Jazz tries to spare the mech who has now begun glaring at some speck over his shoulder, looking… ashamed? Hell, was it ever hard to get a read on this guy. “I guess — I just thought somethin’ like that would be a good fit for me? Dunno if there was really a reason behind it. I know a lot about different frametypes, different people. Figured it’d be helpful in pulling off stealth missions to have a mech onboard that can give a few pointers like that.”

“An acceptable and admirable answer.” The way Prowl says it is careful, as if there were a million things he was trying not to suddenly blurt out. It almost sounds like the words were forcefully pulled out from between clenched teeth. It really didn’t suit him, nor the constructed image of him Jazz had once again formed from the many press conferences shared on the news. He always seemed so regal, so poised in those clipped, reciting lines like a mech made for the job.

From there, the rest of the inspection carries on pretty normal. Jazz even manages to impress the Praxian with his scores on the physical tests, even if he doesn’t say as much. It’s only the barest hint of a swooping motion in his doorwings that gives him away, and that probably only happens at all because Jazz is so far away — most wouldn’t have caught it from this distance.

Really, what does it take to get on this mech’s good side? The other mechs around seemed to be thinking something similar, elbowing Jazz and demanding to know what he’d done to get such a reaction. It’s all light-hearted, but Primus does it make Jazz feel a little miserable. They acted like this measly morsel of attention was the holy grail when, to Jazz, it was hardly anything at all. He’d seen what a relaxed Prowl was like, what he was capable of emoting.

Sitting on the sidelines as the inspections carry on, Jazz observes Prowl. None of the strange behavior is present when he interacts with the other enlisted Autobots, face light while his doorwings say all kinds of things. Some of it manages to get Jazz to smile. It’s a dry kind of humor and wit, the insults he says in everything but words. He’ll tilt his head slightly when someone asks a question he deems dumb; will close his eyes and stand up even straighter when disappointed in someone’s answer to his question.

A few times the Praxian glances Jazz’s way, unmoving as Jazz flashes him a smile just for the sake of being a little annoying. It’s there that Jazz decides he wants to understand this mech a little bit better, wants to make him shed that standoffish nature that seemed to have only gotten worse in the tides of war. He’s just so fascinating, not at all like any other Praxian Jazz has met before.

Inspecting his newly added badge in a mirror, he supposes he’ll have plenty of chances and many things to try.

More vorns go by, and Jazz’s progress is… well. It exists if you know how to look at it.

Prowl has clear, practically visible boundaries with the way he declines offers and separates himself in his office, and the last thing Jazz ever wants to do is cross those in his attempts to befriend the mech. So he starts slow, merely leaving cubes of energon on the other’s desk, nothing more. It’s a bit of a peace offering too, giving Prowl the chance to decline it and make it clear he has no intentions of becoming Jazz’s friend. If so, the saboteur will gladly back off. He might not be used to being hated, but he knows you can’t force these things.

Surprisingly, Prowl always takes him up on the offer, not quite smiling but tilting his head downward in gratitude, not really lifting it all the way back up until Jazz is gone.

His relations with the other Autobots weren’t terrible, but Prowl still didn’t seem particularly close to anyone. Solitude was what he preferred, though the line between voluntary solitude and pure negligence was a thin one. Mech tuned out the entire world when he became focused on something, snapping at anyone who dared pull him away. Not in an overtly aggressive way, mind you, but sometimes if someone pushed a little too far it got to that point. He was always like that when it came to solving any sort of puzzle or fully understanding something that caught his attention, and it didn’t matter if you were friend or foe.

It was rather odd; then again, maybe friendship was just defined differently in Prowl’s book as a whole. It was clear Ratchet, Optimus, and Red Alert all adored him in their own ways, and Prowl both respected and appreciated them in turn.

Ratchet would gently prod and nag at him, but treated him with kindness all the same, never raising his voice. He seemed to get that Prowl didn’t do well with loud noises, easily overwhelmed when there was too much stimuli to keep track of. It’s what made the medbay so hard for him, with its extra bright lights and thrumming machinery. Plenty of medics would try to get Prowl to come in for maintenance, but so far, only Ratchet had a record of succeeding.

Red Alert and him were cut from a similar cloth, meticulous and a little overbearing when it came to their work and protecting everyone. They understood each other without having to say anything, making each other’s jobs easier in a way that even Jazz struggled with.

As for Optimus… Optimus loved everyone, accepting their flaws and all. But he truly valued Prowl in a way that Sentinel didn’t never had, Prowl practically beaming in that subtle way of his whenever Optimus looked to him for input.

Why Jazz seemed to be an outlier remained unclear. And it continued to be murky, until the whole Earth thing.

Everyone got closer to each other the second they came back online and understood their situation, homesick and so small in numbers. They were all they had left of home. They were busier too, trying to maintain their fickle relationship with the humans in power at amicable status. Prowl in particular became swamped with work, prompting Jazz to increase his efforts to get the mech to just relax.

Thus lay the issue — mech didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word, continually rigid, words dismissive and solely professional when it came to Jazz.

“Is it just a Praxian thing? Or does the guy really hate me that much?” Jazz asks, voice pitching up into a whine as he drapes himself over Smokescreen’s desk, giving a big, feline-like stretch. “He hates meeeee… Wants me deeeeeaaaad.”

Looking up from his online game (which was a total violation of on-duty protocol), Smokescreen gives him a confused look of pinched face plates. “Who? Prowl?”

“Yesssss.” Jazz sinks further into the desk, becoming one with it. His words come out muffled, face pressed into the surface. “Talk about mixed signals. One moment I think he might like me decently enough, the next I’m certain he wants me dead where I stand. Is it me? Am I the issue?”

Smokey’s silent — too quiet. It makes Jazz roll over a bit, raising an optic ridge (not that Smokescreen can see it). That was a perfect opening for his friend to say, ‘always, Jazz. You’re the biggest nuisance I know.’ Smokescreen wasn’t one to pass on such openings, either, hence the confusion.

Smokescreen looks… full of mirth? His gaze is up to the ceiling, a hand covering his mouth, shoulders shaking a bit.

“Have you, I don’t know, tried asking him directly?”

Okay, that definitely sounded like stifled laughter in the other’s voice. Like the tone of a mech that knows more than he’s letting on.

Still, Jazz is feeling miserable, so he’ll gladly bite if it means getting the chance to vent a bit. “No,” he says glumly, kicking a ped against the desk for the added effect. “I thought about it, but it didn’t seem right. We’re Prime’s Third and Second, y’know? It’d be awkward, laying it all out. Can’t risk damaging morale if it ends up ugly. And he really does dislike me.”

No, Jazz wasn’t imagining it; Smokescreen snorted, pressing the hand a little tighter against his mouth.

“You’re… really not used to that, are you?”

And, well. That was a problem Jazz was trying not to address. Having it said so bluntly makes him pout a bit. “Maybe not before, but now it’s a little more common.”

Smokescreen sobers up a bit, field twinged with sympathy. “Oookay, that’s an issue you and I are gonna have to sort through at a later time. But what I want to know is, why do you care? What makes Prowl such an outlier you feel the need to sit here and whine to me about it instead of taking action?”

“I don’t know!” Jazz exclaims, plopping himself back down, raising his arms up to Primus Himself. “Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t try to hide it?”

“Hide what?”

Jazz scowls. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Yeup,” Smokescreen says, leaning back and grinning. “It’s annoying, isn’t it? Me making you admit that you’ve got a problem you don’t know how to fix.”

“I hate you.”

“Then get out of my office.”

“No,” Jazz says, all the world’s petulance in his tone as he settles back down on Smokescreen’s desk. “Your desk is a lot comfier than mine. And you’ve got games. Lots of them.”

“Am I at least an added bonus?”

“Not when you’re yapping and pullin’ my leg so much, no. Not even a little.”

“You wound me, Jazz,” Smokescreen dryly retorts, turning his gaze back to his handheld. When there’s the telltale death jingle, he merely sighs, putting it aside as he studies Jazz a bit. It makes the saboteur squirm, that level of scrutiny. More so when Smokescreen’s got that psychiatrist look to his eyes.

Giving up the charade, Smokescreen smirks, leaning in close enough to poke Jazz in the nose. “Oh, you cannot be serious. Who knew you of all people could be so dense.”

Jazz frowns. “What do you mean?”

But the junior tactician wasn’t listening, muttering under his breath, “Hate you?” He shook his head a bit, chuckling. “Jazz — the mech practically trips over his own peds whenever you enter the room. He’s a real bumbling idiot when someone so much as says your name, suddenly all eyes and ears like some kind of organic pet being brought food.”

The saboteur sits up straight, not caring at all that he manages to knock a pad clean off the desk. He ignores Smokescreen’s indignant little ‘hey!’ when it clatters to the floor. “No, that- that can’t be right. Prowl doesn’t—”

“Do romance?” His friend finishes, raising an optic ridge. His grin was still there, but it seemed slightly forced now. It’s that look he gets sometimes whenever he’s stepping on rough terrain, knowing a little too much about the bots on base. “Listen, Jazz — I know that you’ve technically known Prowl longer than I have, but you don’t work directly under the mech. And apparently, you’re fragging oblivious to what’s been obvious to us all.” When that only gets him a blank stare, he shakes out his hands for emphasis. “The wings, Jazz, the wings!”

“W-“

Jazz doesn’t get to finish, the door suddenly opening, stealing both of their attention. And low and behold, there was Prowl, nose stuck in reports as he swiftly made his way through, none the wiser.

“Smokescreen, have you looked over the governor of Oregon’s request yet? I-“

He pauses once he notices said person is in the middle of something. It doesn’t escape Jazz’s notice the way his gaze flicks to him, the way he’s seated, before going back to Smokescreen. It could be an illusion, but Jazz swears the mech takes a small shuffle backward, trying to shield himself partially with the report in his hand. His faceplates looked slightly darker too, optics giving a small flicker, in, out.

“Is… this a bad time?” He’s addressing Smokescreen when he asks, making a point of avoiding looking at Jazz. But his wings — those fucking wings!

Jazz’s jaw could hit the floor. It’s — it’s barely there, barely anything at all, but when you’re actively looking it for, it’s rather obvious; Prowl’s doorwings droop a bit as he says the words, his left foot pulled back as if to pivot on out. His helm is lowered and — yep; he’s sneaking glances at Jazz out of the corner of his eye, nervously tapping his fingers against the side of his datapad.

Oh, Primus — it really was rather obvious, wasn’t it? Like, really, really obvious. The mech was shy. Ridiculously shy. Prowl! That had to be wrong, right? Prowl didn’t- oh. Oh. He didn’t do romance because Jazz was there and not romancing with him. Prowl was rather old-fashioned in everything, so why not this as well?

Snickering quietly, Smokescreen gives him a hard clap on the back that makes him stumble and almost fall off the edge of his desk. He ignores the glare Jazz sends his way, his tongue sticking out. Turning to Prowl, he’s all smiles and politeness, cheeky fragger.

“Nope, not at all, no worries. Jazz and I were just discussing some business, nothing important. And as for your earlier question — yep! Looked it over and ran the numbers myself. Should be all good to go.”

“That’s…” Prowl purses his lips a bit, face pinched and crinkled in thought. It looked… pained. Like he didn’t really want to say the words coming out of his mouth. “That’s good. Thank you.”

“I- uh.” Jazz points towards the door, because it’s clear Smokescreen has no intention of helping him out. “Go.”

That same, little droop. “If it’s because of me-“

“Nah,” Jazz says, cutting him off. And it isn’t. Not completely. Just — not for the reasons Prowl might be thinking. “Like Smokey said: it wasn’t that important. Just a little banter. Your report, on the other hand…”

The tactician looks down at said report, almost as if he had forgotten why he came into the room at all. Again, his face screws up into something rather odd. Indecisive. “It-“

-can wait. But Prowler’s always been a logical, by-the-books kind of mech, never selfish. The words die there, his lips pursed as he stops himself, blinking harshly as he lowers his gaze.

It almost gets Jazz to stay. Almost. His head’s a little too full of discoveries for that, needing some space to simply breathe. Primus. How long had everyone on base known? And why didn’t they tell Jazz? It’s not like he was some serial dater or anything! He wouldn’t react badly!

But… how does he feel about Prowl? He doesn’t know. He’s never had to think past his own wounded ego before, so fixated on the fact the Praxian seemed to only treat him differently.

Maybe. Maybe that was part of the problem. If Prowl was really that shy, no wonder nobody wanted to spoil things for him.

Jazz pauses.

The mech had been flirting with him from the beginning. All those times he would suddenly blurt out an unrelated question, sheepishly apologizing when questioned about it. He was trying to get to know Jazz better.

That. That changed some things — a lot of things. It answered some things too, but that seemed rather trivial right now.

Prowl — Prowl had a crush on him. Him.

A hand comes up to rest against Jazz’s mouth, his head turned and making eye contact with his own reflection. He didn’t remember making it make to his hab, nor entering his washracks.

He was even more startled to find himself smiling.

Valentine’s was. A holiday. A great holiday, even. Jazz was always stoked for it, showing his appreciation for everyone on base in the little things, such as giving them little pieces reminiscent of their home back on Cybertron. From treats to playing music — he had it all. It reminded him what he had loved about being a cultural investigator so much, his spark full and warm whenever people thanked him.

This year… It wasn’t like Jazz was any less excited, far from it. The problem was…

“Woah, either you’re really deep in thought, or you want to kill Blaster right now. Which is it?”

“Thinking, so go away before I catch your disease.”

Smokescreen, damn him, only presses in closer, making an utter mockery of Jazz’s threat. “Hmmm, I don’t doubt that—the thinking bit, just to be clear—but it really does look like you want to tear Blaster apart right now. Last I checked, he was your second best friend—with me being the first, of course—so now I need to know why. Though,” he chuckles, “I might have a guess.”

Jazz sighs, focus thoroughly ruined now. “I’m not jealous.”

“Sure you’re not. Blaster just conveniently happens to be chatting away with your not-so-secret admirer that you may or may not have similar feelings for, all whilst you’re glaring at him. I’m believing you so hard right now.”

“Knock it off,” Jazz says, giving him a shove. “It’s genuinely not like that. I think-“ He hesitates, knowing the words will be very real once they leave the sanctity of his own head. “I think Prowl’s planning to actually confess soon.”

“Oh.” Smokescreen’s blink is audible as he turns back to study Blaster and Prowl from the other side of the room. “What makes you think that?”

“He’s been acting more skittish than usual, almost acting guilty anytime I walk in on the two of them talking. Mighty embarrassed too.”

“Okay,” Smokescreen says, slowly and giving an even slower nod. “I’ll pretend to understand the thought process here.”

Exasperated, Jazz huffs again. “Prowl doesn’t get embarrassed unless it’s something to do with — y’know. This.” He waggles a finger between himself and where Prowl stands. “Which, considering Blaster’s title of second place bestie—soon to be first, if you don’t stop poking me—makes me think he’s plotting something. Something big.”

“Ah.”

It’s quiet then, both of them just staring as Prowl eventually leaves the rec. room, wings a little higher than normal. In unison, their heads turn to follow him out, mouths pressed into lines.

Watching Blaster soon leave as well, Smokescreen drums a finger against Jazz’s arm, humming. “You gonna do anything about it? You want to do anything about it?”

“That’d be mean though, right? He’s obviously trying so hard…”

Suddenly serious, Smokescreen sits bolt upright, grasping Jazz’s arm a little too firmly. Urgently. “Jazz. Jazz, Jazzy, Jazz-meister. You don’t have to reciprocate or do anything if you don’t want to. I know I teased you a lot-“

“What? No.” Jazz wriggles out of his friend’s hold, raising an optic ridge. “I’m not- ah, slag. That’s not what I meant, Smokes. I just meant I don’t wanna rush him by letting him I’ve caught on or anything. It’d spoil his fun, right?”

Smokescreen studies his face some more, likely trying to parse through his words and link them back to his body language. When he’s satisfied, he smiles, leaning out of Jazz’s space once more. He taps all fingers against both knees obnoxiously. “Well, you might be right about that. He might curl in on himself and die if he feels like he’s made a fool of himself.”

And then, he’s wearing that professional, clinical look. He looks over to Jazz out of the corner of his peripheral view. As much as he is Jazz’s friend, he’s also the glue holding this base together, and—in his own way—Prowl’s friend as well. “I know it’s been a long, long time, but he isn’t used to — sincerity, I guess. He’s a little slow when it comes to processing emotions and putting them in the right little boxes he’s made up. Sentinel… had a lot of fragged up ideals, you know. Didn’t approve of being so affectionate with others and other junk.”

The tapping continues.

“Now, imagine living a life of seclusion, hidden away and made to perform only one task and having no other opportunities. The only person that pays you attention is someone who treats you like slag, though not as harshly as you know other people are capable of being. It makes you lacking in social skills, harsh and cold because you were programmed to be as such and nobody has given you anything more than diplomatic pleasantries. Suddenly, that’s gone and you’re surrounded by new, unpredictable people. They care about and appreciate you, but you were convinced such things weren’t yours to have. It goes on for years and years, and while it gets a little easier to believe, you’re still stuck being standoffish and a little alienated. How would you react if someone told you outright ‘I like you’ before you get to do it yourself?”

Jazz is silent for a long, long time. He thinks about it — really, truly thinks about it, hands clasped together, elbows pressing down into the armor of his knees.

Eventually, “I wouldn’t believe it. I’d think it’s some kind of joke to get a reaction out of me.” And Prowl is a very, very logical mech in all areas, except for feelings. There, he’s illogical as can be, as emotional as the best of them.

The Praxian clasps his shoulder. “Good.” Approval dyes his words in bright hues, a small smile on his face as he stands up with a groan, twisting. “Definitely sat there too long,” he grumbles under his breath, wincing as he rubs at his back.

It makes Jazz laugh, which might’ve been what Smokey was really aiming for all along.

He’s turning to leave when Jazz makes a grab for his hand.

“Thanks,” he says, meaning it to a degree words can’t convey. “And don’t worry.”

“Who said anything about being worried?” Smokescreen retorts, so gooey and fond.

Jazz has been avoiding the rec. room tonight, every revolution of his spark loud in his head. He can’t remember ever being this nervous before, practically giving himself a spark attack with the way he’s both giddy and filled to the brim with anxiety.

He can hear the sounds of the party going on even in his room, loud and positively thunderous, making the ground shake a little, depending on where you are. It’s exactly the scene of life he’s always loved, feeling at one with the beat and energy. It makes him remember days of a little town of nowhere, one small mech clinging to a pillar hidden in shadows as they watched a live performance. They were never meant to be there, having snuck in.

Every bit of it was worth it though, the music resonating and positively singing in his spark. It was heavenly bliss, enough for him to get lost in it, forgetting his place.

He expected the musicians to be upset at having discovered a little stowaway taking up their time. Instead, they had been delighted with how enthusiastic he had been about their music, jumping up and down.

It was the entire group that had given him a new designation then and there, taking him along and raising Jazz as their own.

The rec. room practically beckons out to him, but — he’s unable to stay still, so sickeningly worried. What if he’s wrong? What if he’s right?

Prowl was special to him — that much became so blindingly clear the moment he discovered the Praxian’s crush on him. It only made sense for him to be bothered when he thought the mech seemingly hated him — he wanted his attention! He just. Hadn’t realized that at the time. But now it’s so painfully there, squeezing his chest and pressing down until it hurts.

Lovesick — that’s what Smokescreen had called it. Kinda embarrassing, considering Jazz’s age. He’s much too old to be acting like a youngling having their first crush, writing away in this datapad and swinging their peds.

But here he is, virtually doing that very thing.

In, out. Round and round the air goes, flustered hands constantly in motion, checking all over himself for any unseen imperfection.

He wants this to be perfect. He wants-

Prowl. Wants to hold him and kiss him — eventually. He doubts the Praxian’s the type to move so fast, but hey, he’s surprised Jazz before.

All Jazz has to do is go out there and see. He’ll never know if he stays in here all night. Would Prowl be crushed if he did? He would, wouldn’t he. All assuming Jazz’s suspicions are right, of course, and Prowl really is planning something tonight. Primus. Jazz could be so very, very wrong. Prowl didn’t go to parties, what has him so convinced tonight will be any different?

But it’s also Jazz’s party and, well. He’s sorta obligated to show up no matter what.

Right.

Steeling himself, Jazz makes the oh so very scary decision of finally leaving his room, gradually approaching the ruckus of music, streamers, and a little bit of high-grade. Just a little.

The whole room is dyed red, many mechs dancing and laughing, loud, loud, loud. Too loud and totally not Prowl’s scene, Jazz really should just — he’s already said hello to like, five different people, surely — half of them were drunk off their afts already, they wouldn’t even notice-

Where is Prowl??

Jazz doesn’t even notice he lifted himself up to the tips of his peds until he’s lowering himself to the floor in disappointment when he’s unable to spot the mech he’s been both hoping and dreading seeing.

A shame, really, because Jazz really thinks he’s outdone himself this year with the amount of heart decorations and streamers. It’s practically a whole store’s worth of things.

Yeah. That’s the only reason he feels sad right now. The only reason at all.

He tries, he really does. He smiles, he waves, he even dances a bit. Does the things expected of him, acting like nothing’s wrong, nothing at all.

It doesn’t last, not completely. He doesn’t think anyone notices or questions his sudden departure, halfway out the door without anyone stopping him. But he does — stop, that is.

Down the hall, he hears it: a song he hasn’t heard in a long, long time.

Following the distant sound of music, Jazz finds himself in a more secluded section of the Ark, away from prying eyes. It’s not a very spacious room, but nor is it crowded like the rec. room. It’s quiet, save for the red boombox perched up on a small ledge.

“Blaster…? What’s going on?”

Blaster, predictably, doesn’t answer.

“I asked him to, considering he’s the only one with records of this song.”

Jazz whirls around and — there — there’s Prowl. Smiling that smile that he’s so fickle about sharing, saying it makes him look untrustworthy. Which was really just a fancy way of saying he didn’t like it, which always made Jazz sad because — it’s cute. Ridiculously so, the way it’s lopsided and shows a little teeth.

“Hey,” Jazz says.

“Hey,” Prowl echoes.

“What’s,” Jazz gestures to the small bit of heart streamers he’s only now noticed, “all of this?”

“What does it look like?” Prowl says, flashing more teeth as he playfully pokes Jazz’s arm. “Surely you of all mechs recognize a party?”

“I- I do, but-“

Oh, Primus. He really hopes he still looks put together right now.

“It’s my song,” he says, voice nothing more than a choked up whisper packed full of love and shock. “It’s the song my mentors played and re-named after me. I didn’t- I’ve never played this song for anyone before. How did you…?”

“Rewind,” Prowl answers, holding out one of his hands. And Jazz — he takes it. It doesn’t even occur to him why until they’re dancing. Not a formal dance or anything like that — it’s Polyhexian to its core. “He’s got a recording of practically everything, you know. Even of your mentors’ older performances.”

“And the — and the dancing?” Jazz asks, grinning like mad as Prowl leads him through the motions of a song and dance he knows by spark. He thinks he should be more shocked by this entire affair, maybe stuttering and disbelieving. But he knew Prowl a little better than that — knew his subtle cues and spark better than most.

Everything about this was so very Prowl; down to the way it’s a moment between them, and them alone. Minus Blaster, but ah well. Blaster was always good at keeping a secret.

“Blaster. I — apologize if it isn’t any good. I’ve never done anything more than the formal dances expected at political events.” And the thing was, it — well, it was awkward, the movements stilted and a little clumsy. Less than Jazz would have expected from Prowl, convincing him that it’s more about the dance itself than the action as a whole.

Funny, how Jazz wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s perfect. Just — perfect. You’re perfect.”

That makes Prowl — stop. Stop like Jazz had always interpreted as being a sign of discomfort.

His eyes go wide, mouth forming a little ‘o’. He ducks his head, trying to hide it in the crook of his neck.

“Aw, c’mon, none of that,” Jazz teases, putting his hands on either side of the Praxian’s face, turning him back forward. “I wanna look at’cha. I don’t get to do it this close, this often. I like looking at such a handsome face.”

“I’m assuming you knew, then?” Embarrassment twinges in Prowl’s field, twined with mortification and a bit of loathing. All making Jazz’s smile turn a little sympathetic, but above all else: full of love, love, love. Adoration for this shy weirdo of a mech he’s come to know and appreciation.

“Took me a bit,” he admits. “But once I caught on — oh boo, all subtly was off the table. You’re so transparent, but that’s something I love about ya.”

Prowl’s eyes are zeroed in on Jazz’s hands, sliding his own up until he’s clasping them. He rubs small, little circles into the palms, voice a little husky and shaky as he says, “Can I take this as a yes, then?”

“Yeah, Prowler,” Jazz whispers, voice equally shaky now, leaning his helm to rest against the tactician’s. “You can.”

[kittenfangirl20]

Adam: That sounds wonderful, thank you. Where are we going?

Lucifer: You look perfect, I knew it would look perfect on you when I saw it.

Lucifer: To the Lust Ring, to a place called Ozzie’s. It is the lustful lounge owned by the Sin of Lust himself. I would also like to take you to a fancy hotel to stay for the night.

Adam: It sounds very fancy and romantic.

Lucifer: It is, I have something for you to wear.

Adam: Really? Thank you.

Lucifer got Adam dressed in a beautiful dark blue gown that was low cut.

Adam: Thank you, you make me feel so beautiful.

Once Adam put on some makeup and flowers on his horns, Lucifer escorted Adam to his limo. When they got in the limo, Lucifer they poured them each a flute of champagne. Adam was enjoying the view from the window. Once in the Lust Ring, they stepped out of the limo and Adam noticed many people were looking at him.

Adam: Luci, they are looking at me.

Lucifer: Of course, you are the most beautiful person here. They are jealous that I have you for a date.

Adam blushed at how sweet Lucifer was being. For the first time in a long time Adam felt beautiful. They went ahead of everyone in the line and they were let in ahead of everyone since Lucifer was the King. Adam watched the place in amazement, there were couples dressed in gorgeous outfits for the upcoming holiday.

Ozzie: Well, who is this beauty?

Lucifer: Hello Ozzie, this my boyfriend Adam, I have been wanting to spoil him for Valentine’s Day.

Ozzie: Well you have come to the right place and I can assure you that your taste has greatly improved when it comes to romantic partners.

Lucifer: I agree.

Adam: You are very sweet.

Ozzie along with his boyfriend, Fizzarolli escorted them to a private booth. Adam looked at the menu with excitement, there was delicious food he was never able to try before.

Adam: I don’t know what I want to have, it all looks so good.

Lucifer: We can try everything if you want to.

Adam: You really mean it?

Lucifer: Of course, this is all for you.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(The gown Lucifer picked out for Adam)

Adamsapple First Valentines Day

Adam had never really done Valentine’s Day, it wasn’t a thing when he was alive like most holidays and when he got to heaven he never dated anyone worth celebrating it with.

But now in Hell and with Lucifer, the devil insisted that they do something special.

Adam: Like what? Isn’t just like, guaranteed sex night?

Lucifer: It’s more than just sex Adam, Valentine’s Day is a day where you can really show your partner how much you mean to them. And they have all kinds of special chocolates come out.

Adam perked up at the thought of chocolate, he’s never been good at romantic things he’s tried and sometimes it fails miserably.

But he wants to try. For Lucifer he wants to give it a try and maybe even surprise him somehow.

Adam: So what will we be doing?

Lucifer smiled and kissed him: That would ruin the surprise if I told you dove. You’ll just have to wait until the day comes.

Adam groaned but he understood anything that Lucifer planned for him was always worth the wait. He just didn’t like waiting.

Adam: Alright keep your secrets.

Lucifer: I promise you won’t be disappointed

Adam walked down to the lobby of the hotel seeing Charlie excitedly decorating the place with hearts and little cherubic cupids. He never really noticed Valentine’s Day was a big deal in Hell like it was in Heaven.

Vaggie: No matter what place you are in, love is always important.

Adam: What?

Vaggie: I noticed the way you are looking around the place. I guess this would be your first big Valentine’s Day.

Adam: Yeah, Luci has some big surprise for me.

Vaggie: I know it will be something nice, Charlie always spoils me on Valentine’s Day.

It was interesting to compare the Morningstar that they were dating. Adam smiled when he saw Lucifer walk in with a big box of chocolates.

Lucifer: I had these brought in all the way from the Gluttony Ring for you. The filling is made of your favorite fruit of there.

Adam: You spoil me.

Lucifer had Adam sit on the couch and he pulled out one of the chocolates.

Lucifer: Open your mouth.

Adam opened his mouth and Lucifer put a chocolate in his mouth. Adam enjoyed all the flavors of the fruit and chocolate. Lucifer found Adam so adorable like this, it almost made him think of Eden. He had so much to make up for with his boyfriend. This was going to be a very romantic time for Adam.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[madigoround]

Had originally planned to go hiking in the mountains at one of the state parks today before staying the night at a hotel up here so I can go to my favorite farmers market in the morning but realized an hour and a half into my drive up that I forgot my state parks pass and wasn’t going to pay ten dollars to get into the park so I did some changes and ended up going to a local park near my hotel/ the farmers market and it was really cute, this is actually just me finding the best local spots for when I move to the mountains lol but also I ended up driving for five hours and then walking around the park for a few hours before checking in to my hotel around 5 and the last few hours I have just been fighting to keep my eyes open I am so so exhausted but if I fall asleep before like nine I’m just going to wake up in three hours and not sleep again tonight so it is a battle of wills with myself

[deadghosy]

Since your stuck I decided to help you out with the power of creativity!

How would characters of Hazbin Hotel react to Swan/Duck reader it's branching from penguin reader with how she got stuck in hell for a while

The power mainly focuses on them flying and wind magic ect!

REMINDER: REQUESTS ARE CLOSED‼️

HAZBIN HOTEL X DUCK! READER

Warning: yandere themes.

prompt: a common mistake made your life eventual as people started to fawn over you

You were supposed to be in heaven…BUT NOOOO, they sent you to hell because they mistook you for someone else. They could’ve just said they were full like a night club…

So now you are in a pond swimming around peacefully. But there’s always a man with a hat and an apple cane that comes to see you literally everyday. You don’t know who he is, but he got attached badly. He would bring bread and show you rubber ducks with an awkward smile.

You just go over to him and eat the bread. You never learned how to talk since birth since your mother abused you. Being jealous of your pure soul and natural beauty. She always told you to shush. Making the sour taste in your mouth sting to never talk.

Eventually the man introduced himself as Lucifer, that’s when it hit you that this man was the first fallen angel, and king of hell. He must have seen your eyes widen in shock. “You can understand me?” He asked you as he scratched under your beak making you lean in his touch. You nodded as he smiles showing his sharp teeth.

“That’s even bettter.” He said

Two days after that, you were literally sleeping when you woke up to feel two hands pick you up, it was Lucifer who cooed at your drowsy face as he takes you to a hotel. Were you finally getting a place to stay instead of outside?

“Listen, my daughter has a dream…to redeem sinners…I wanna believe in her, but our people chose to make hell this way.” He says with a somber look. He took you inside to see basically a female version of Lucifer but more cheery looking as she gasped at you. “Dad? Is that the duck you’ve been talking about?! Aww they’re soooo cute!” She says as she holds you.

And that’s your story of how now you are basically part of the hotel’s family.

I imagine you just getting prince/princess treatment everyday from the hotel and Lucifer himself as he literally trims your duck fur as you just sit there on a fancy ass pillow.

I headcannon that angel dust buys you shades a lot because your yellow/white feathers is so majestic, he just had to make you even more bad ass.

Angel dust loves how high headed you are, not letting anyone tear you down even with a word. He admires you, so he wants you to admire him as well.

I headcannon for you to deadass have an attitude when bothered. Literally Alastor wanted to see what was so special about you. And so he woke you up from your beauty sleep making you go haywire on him.

You pecked him as he tried to hit you, possibly trying to injure you only to injure himself as he came out pissed off with a smile. He definitely spit out a feather as you quacked out a laugh as if this shit was looney tunes.

Charlie always rants to you about her days and how her and vaggie’s relationship is going. Charlie was notified by her father that you can understand her. She doubted it at first, but when you actually nodded she gasped shocked with stars in her eyes.

You and Charlie grew close…to the point she was almost like her father. Constantly checking up on you, feeding you. Watching you. You tried to push it off…but it was kinda unsettling.

You could obviously fly, which you do around the hotel to spread your wings. But when you fly you have a glowing yellow light around you.

I can see you just chilling at the bar as residents come in and out as you just get petted as husk grumbles a little and also pets you. Husk was immediately enchanted by your soft duck feathers

You love to make small tornados at sinners who cause trouble in the hotel. You are the hotel’s duck, so you must at least protect the guests at least.

Vaggie is the one to always make sure to research what ducks eat before making sure you can eat them. She likes how you make everyone feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even her.

You damn well hated that you died into a duck body..but it felt nice knowing that you couldn’t just live the possible human or at least whatever you are. Demon or angel. You could possibly be in a pond sleeping and eating bread all damn day.

I imagine Sir Pentious had put a top hat on you that’s similar like the ones his egg boiz wear. So he loves to have you around when he builds things.

You doze off like this and it’s so cute to the point they will record and take a picture of you. (If you don’t wanna click link, it’s a duck nodding its head off until it goes limp since the duck is tired)

I headcannon Alastor to hate you at first and want to cook you for duck stew, but then he falls in love with how entertaining and smart you are. You technically aren’t just a mere duck.

I can see you just making small hurricanes in your bath tub when niffty has to wash you. You once accidentally splashed her. But she chuckled splashing you.

A sinner once tried to take you from the hotel’s pond that Lucifer made for you only be found 30 secs later taking you.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TOUCHING MY DUCKLING?!” Lucifer yells angrily at the sinner who got knocked flat on their ass. His demon form was coming out as fire spits out his mouth when he huffed.

You did a comedic side eye at Lucifer who was acting possessive as hell itself. You didn’t even know what to do as this man kept holding you like a pet duck you seen fat white men do in the streets.

The sinner didn’t live after that.

I can see husk just petting you softly and then eventually just falling asleep on your body. Like his head is on your body as you just watch hell tv as he snores. Oddly comfortable in your soft feathers.

You literally waddle around the hotel wearing a cute scarf with your favorite color. Alastor oddly knitted it for you like a old grandma to their grandchild 😭

I imagine you just side eyeing Lucifer as he suddenly had the urge to read more information about ducks and how their eggs look. So imagine how Lucifer would act if you pregnant. But the thing is, you rather die then be in pain in birth.

Lucifer makes you a lot of blue things to remind you of a pond since that was the place you chill in a lot. It was to the poke Charlie and Lucifer nodded to make you a pond in the backside of the hotel. It’s your little chill haven.

You felt pissy one day because your feathers were molting..so the wind outside was heavy cause your feathers were just falling and you hated it. You felt insecure but the crew felt your feelings and started to cheer you up. Soon or later, your new feathers came back quickly.

The Vee’s had definitely notice your presence since you first came here. I mean who the hell looks like a damn duck down here with pure beautiful feathers that remind them of so called heaven.

I can see the Vee’s and you having the relationship where it’s basically like team rocket and pikachu type troupe. 😭 they always fail trying to kidnap you because you literally put out ducks that look like you and they fall for it, EVERY SINGLE TIME-

I headcannon you have a ribbon your favorite color wrapped around your neck like a bow or collar with your name on it❤️

Vox had literally set his drone to spy on you as he watches with a sick grin at how adorable and elegant you looked just swimming in your sweet pond and how you just outsmart Alastor. 

Imagine how badass you are to suddenly turn big in size because the hotel was being threatened. So you literally grew in a size of the hotel building and flapped your wings to fly them bitches to who knows nowhere.

If you were on the same branch, you would definitely be the older sister of penguin! Reader if it was lore type shit 😭 you don’t play no games about your emotions as you are always observing

LOL IMAGINE YOU WADDLING TO GO TO THE BATHROOM LIKE A HUMAN AND THE EGG BOIZ JUST FOLLOW AFTER YOU AS IF YOU WERE THEIR MOTHER-

The Vee’s definitely sneak on you by Vox’s drone that swarms around your pond without your knowledge.

Velvette literally sends you nice outfits your size. Literally cute outfits where the holes are for your wings so you can fly and look drippy as hell.

See I could definitely imagine you sneaking out the hotel to just get hooked up with your new outfit stylist which is Velvette now.

Vox

Imagine how cold the state duck! Reader has (hear me out, edit audio type shit starts playing-)

I can see you just swimming and Lucifer takes a picture of you, admiring your beauty in place as you just flock around your damn pond. “That’s my baby….” He says wiping a dramatic tear from his eyes.

Valentino. Now I won’t say he would be obsessed romantically but more platonically as he would love for you to be part of his life as his pet only. Like an actual pet he would take care of.

I headcannon Alastor actually tried to feed you some bread…and you accepted it making Alastor smile wildly at how you trusted him getting close to you for one.

Lmao you literally did some Wingardium Leviosa ass shit on someone because you didn’t like how they looked at you 😭

You literally are so coddled and spoiled…it was to the point you would be walking or more like waddling down the damn streets alone and people would aw at your beauty and gracious. It’s overwhelming, but at least you know people won’t fuck with you.

But people just never learnt to keep their hands off of a beautiful creature.

Once Adam got sent down to find an angel that was suppose to be in heaven. He didn’t except for you to be a fuckin duck. So he laughed and took you up with ease as you quacked furiously, trying to get at least someone’s attention.

It was too late as Lucifer sees you get flown up into the heaven portal. Lucifer dropped the tray of lemonade in shock to see his beloved flying into the portal. Lucifer felt his heart squeeze knowing that the bastard knew he couldn’t get into heaven.

Lucifer quickly spout out his wings and fly sharply towards adam’s fading figure. Adam snickers seeing Lucifer’s anger in his glowing red eyes. He turned around and waved you around to taunt Lucifer as you had a “I don’t have time for this…” face. Literally you pecked Adam’s face and hands making Adam spazz out and throw you at Lucifer’s face.

“FINE! TAKE YOUR DUMB ASS DUCK!” Adam yells as he flies off grumbling about making you into duck stew

So Lucifer was happy with a derpy expression and calmed down holding you. He got even more protective as he makes sure you are watched 24/7. He wanted to give you freedom…but after that stunt Adam did. He’s not letting anyone touch you without his permission. Of course his daughter can though!

But what if Adam had succeeded in his capture of you, things would be most likely how it was in hell….just more clean and healthy.

St. Peter definitely greeted you with a warm smile as you didn’t….you didn’t like how he just sassed you and let you fall to hell. So of course it was rocky, but soon or later you two got along since he brides you with bread. He soon gets obsessed with how you get so trusting over things. He uses that to his advantages.

Sera greets you with open arms, literally as she picks you up. Cooing at your pure yellow/white feathers that matches the aesthetic of heaven. You match perfectly here as your angel form is two pair of wings. Your normal duck wings and angel wings. You are the most beautiful angel she ever met and laid eyes on as she shows you around heaven. Every part and area of it. This shall be your new home.

Emily won’t be a crazyyy person over you. As I can see her being a light hearted person who doesn’t love bomb you in a manipulative manner but only wants to be your friend in a loving way. She finds you amazing at how smart and caring you are towards her as you visit her and she visits you back. She brings you every bread know to man and heaven as she noticed you like bread. You and her are clearly amazing friends to each other.

The Angels adore your every movement as if you were also a god/godesss. You were confused at this attention. It was way more overwhelming when you were in hell with the others. Just like how the penguin! Reader was, you made a social media account and half of heaven followed you. It was an insane amount of followers that you didn’t mean to have. But the angels love to greet you as you fly/walk by. With you being so graceful here, who wouldn’t say you belonged here.

Adam most definitely is possessive and always manipulates you into thinking he is superior. He forces himself to be your caretaker, he literally makes you stay in his place all day and all time watched over. He feels the need to control your very bidding and movement as this dickhead degrades you to make you feel useless. It sometimes works, but sometimes doesn’t. 

Lute is a controlling person who sees your intelligence as a threat as she wants to break you into her clasp. She’s the second most controlling than Adam. But she’s an overwhelming controlling as she wants you you to see her as your protector and person you can be dependent on at all times. She wants you to be able to tell her everything you know so she can just please you.

Adam finds it amusing at how you got use it heaven so quick despite this new attention. You literally sit on his lap napping as he lounges on the couch. Basically watching sports or whatever.

You can’t help but think, “why am I even surprised.”

[xreaderanonaccount]

So Warm and Fluffy

Synopsis: Harbinger men (minus Pucinella) with an S/O who wears their Fatui coat.

Characters: Pierro, Capitone, Dottore, Pantalone, Childe

Tags; Suggestive on Childe

A/N: Gawd, I need more lore on all the harbingers. I need MORE. I also lowkey didn't know what to write for Panatalone, which sucks cause I absolutely love this man.

The party was a bore, you couldn’t help but let out a bored sigh. Pierro seemed to immediately notice this and placed a gentle hand on the bottom of your back.

“Is everything okay my dear?” Pierro whispered into your ear, you leaned against his shoulder and sighed.

“This place is a bore and there’s nothing fun.” Pierro hummed in agreement as he stared distantly towards the crowd. There was a small crowd of aristocrats huddled around you two hoping to earn a favor from the Tsaritsa. You just sighed again before looking at the giant door that beckoned you toward them.

“Dear, I’m going to walk around a bit. Is that okay?” You asked, tilting your head towards him. Pierro closed his eyes and gave a soft nod.

“Make sure you bring a scout.” Pierro sighed as he turned back to a conversation an aristocrat was trying to make. You smiled to yourself before beckoning a nearby scout to follow you. You were very lucky that the party was hosted in one of the many Fatui’s castles, even more lucky that this just so happens to be Pierro’s. You and the scout silently walked down the empty hall, your shoes echoed around before stopping by a familiar door. You smiled as you fished in your pockets, pulling out a small key. You gently placed the key inside the keyhole before turning it. With a soft click the door opened revealing a huge office. You knew this office quite well as this was Pierro’s main office. You walked towards the giant desk smiling as you picked up a small picture of you and Pierro. You gently placed the picture back down before walking around the office. Staring out the window you sighed happily staring down the garden that Pierro planted for you. You were so lost in thought, staring at the snowflakes that slowly drifted down, that you didn’t feel the soft click of the door open. You smiled to yourself thinking about the nice stroll you and Pierro took earlier in the morning. You suddenly felt warm, when you felt a soft coat gently placed on your shoulder. 

“You’ll get cold if you stay still like that.” Pierro murmured against your ear, planting a soft kiss against your cheek. His mask slightly biting your skin. You giggled as you turned to face Pierro. 

“Well if I do get cold you’ll somehow keep me warm right?” You smiled as you placed your hand right where his heart lay. Pierro deeply chuckled as he cupped your hand as you planted a soft kiss on your wrist.

“Of course, my dear.” 

Capitano grunted as he attacked the dummies with his giant claymore. You stared unapologetically at Capitano’s abs, muscle, anything your eyes looked around. You sighed dreamily as Capitano's muscles moved and contracted with each swing. You two were in the lobby of Goth Grand Hotel which Lord Regrator generously booked… forever. Capitano swung his claymore, slicing the dummies in half. Capitano huffed and puffed as he circled his shoulders. Loosening the tension in his shoulder. You clapped at Capitano’s display,

“You look so good Darling.” You smiled as you slouched against the plush lobby couch. Capitano gave out a hearty laugh before walking over to get a drink from his cup. 

“Thank you my love.” He laughed as he lifted his helmet slightly for him to wipe his sweat. You hummed as you looked around the lobby of the Goth Grand Hotel. It was quite fancy, true to Mondstadt architecture the arcs curved beautifully with etched designs watching over you two. The soft light emitting from the crystal chandelier shone upon you. Your eyes drift before you spot Capitano’s Harbinger coat. He didn’t wear it as Mondstadt’s weather didn’t deemed it cold enough for him to wear it. You traced your hand over the details of the Harbingers coat. Whoever designed it clearly had a good sense of fashion. You smiled as you pulled the heavy coat towards you. Capitano’s smell filled your senses as you took in a deep breath, allowing his scent to fill your lungs. You couldn’t help but sigh as you got comfortable on the lobby couch. You watched Capitano continue his training, his sleeveless turtleneck hug his muscles so well. Capitano swung his claymore making eye contact with you who was snug underneath his harbinger coat.

“Comfortable?” Capitano asked, hoisting his claymore over his shoulder. You nodded as you pulled the black fur close to your face.

“Your jacket is very comfortable.”  You smiled as you adjusted your position, Capitano laughed as he turned back to his dummies.

“Well then I'll ask Pantalone about getting you a custom one." You can hear Capitano smile as he slashed at the nearest dummy. You couldn't help but laugh,

"That would be nice wouldn't it?"

You shivered inside Dottore’s lab. Your lover is a mad man so of course he loves to have his lab ac on in an already really cold nation. You are already wearing thick layers but the cold keeps biting your skin. 

“Can we please turn the heater on?” You asked, but it seemed the question fell on deaf ears. As none of the segments seemed to hear you, they were too busy arguing with something that you couldn’t understand. You frowned slightly as the cold got to you. You got up and started to pace around the lab trying to warm yourself up. It was slightly working if it wasn’t for the fact that every other step you were taking you were bumping into one of the many segments. You always apologize and move out of the way. You did a couple more laps before you were stopped by Omega who just gave a small smile.

“Darling dearest, I believe you’re getting in the way. How about staying in Prime’s office till he returns?” He asked, not even waiting for your answer before guiding you towards Dottore’s office. You tried to protest but it seemed that protest didn’t reach Omega who just opened the office door and gently pushed you in.

“I’ll ask Delta to bring you something to eat, just stay put okay?” Omega gave you a smile before closing the door with a soft click. You sighed in frustration as you waltz around Dottore’s office. It looked off putting for some people, but you thought it was just his weird hobby. The assortment of body parts in jars, taxidermy animals, different types of ruin guards splattered around. It was a mess but a weird organized mess. You walked around his desk sitting down on his plush chair. Still freezing cold, you looked around the office spotting a small closet in the corner. Smiling, you got up and walked towards the door. Maybe Dottore at least will have a lab coat or something for you to wear. Opening the wooden doors, they gave a soft groan as you peered inside. The closet was mainly empty except for one item, his Fatui harbinger coat. You smiled to yourself as you ran your hand through the fabric. It was so soft under your hand, the soft metal clanked against each other as you cupped the teal crystal. You admired the crystal in your hands as it sparkled in the light. You gently took the coat off the hanger and put it on. The warmth instantly engulfs you, along with his scent. You smiled to yourself as you walked back towards his desk chair. You plopped down back on the plush chair, wiggling a bit, getting yourself comfortable on the plush chair. Finally comfortable in the severe cold lab you nuzzled your head against the black fur. The thick winter coat made you instantly feel warm. As you enjoy the deserved warmth you feel your eyes becoming droopy. Sleep lures you in as you close your eyes, the warmth, dottore’s cologne, and the comfort of being close to the segments. It seemed that you lost the battle as sleep took over slouching against the desk chair.

Dottore walked into the lab to the buzzing sounds and movements. He rolled his shoulder as he put on his white lab jacket. Before he could get to his experiment table he was stopped by Delta who handed him a report.

“Here is that report you wanted,” Delta nodded as Dottore took it out of his hands. He flipped through the pages pleased by the results.

“Good, get back to work.” Dottore threw the report back to Delta’s arms, who just nodded. But before he was able to get back to work Delta told him about your state and how cold you were. Dottore rolled his eyes as he knew you would be cold and asked what they did about it. Delta mentioned that you paced around a bit before being put into his office. Dottore was curious about what you had gotten up to in his office. Dismissing Delta, Dottore headed to his office giving soft raps against his own office door. He thought this was silly but he rather you not throw something at him then be startled for a bit. When he didn’t hear a response he opened the door, only to be greeted by you snuggled up in his fatui harbinger coat sleeping on his office chair. Dottore smirked as he walked over to you, watching your sleeping form. Oh how naive you are to let your guard down, if you were anyone else he would have stuck so many different types of needles into you. Draw some blood samples, screw it, why not inject you with a mind altering drug? But lucky for you, you were his darling dearest, and he could never hurt you. He smiled to himself before tilting his mask up just enough for him to plant a kiss on top of your head without it poking your head. With a very rare and out of character soft smile Dottore turned back and headed to work. At least he doesn’t have to hear you complain about the cold.

You and Pantalone walked down Snezhnaya’s greenhouse, a greenhouse that was owned by the Fatui for the public to see ecosystems from different regions. Hand in hand you walked down as you listened to a guide explain each plant from different regions. You smile as you listen to the guide, you would glance back at Pantalone who would always smile at you but you knew for a fact that he was bored out of his mind. He got particularly bored during the Liyue region, you didn’t care, you were just happy to see so much green. Snezhnaya is always cold and has deep shades of blue, so seeing this much green always makes you feel better. You two concluded your tour and were ready to head out, but as soon as you stepped outside the bitter wind blew against your face. You shivered against your already thick jacket, it seemed that the Snezhnaya weather had dipped way below freezing. You breathe into your hands to keep yourself warm, but alas it didn’t work. You stared out on the snow covered streets. Pantalone said that a vehicle should be coming soon but you couldn’t see crap. You felt yourself being pulled gently back inside the greenhouse before having a thick outer layer gently placed on your shoulder. You looked behind to see Pantalone smiling at you, he was wearing his purple inner jacket which seemed to do little to hide Pantalone’s shiver. 

“Pantalone, you’re shivering here.” You tried to protest by removing his Fatui coat off your shoulder but you were stopped as Pantalone placed it back on your shoulders.

“I’ll be fine my lily, your comfort is my utmost priority.” Pantalone smiled as he then turned to one of the workers ``kindly” asking them to bring a heater. Kindly is putting it nicely, more like he was demanding it with a nice tone. You giggled a bit before settling down on a nearby seat. Pantalone turned back to you giving you a rare soft smile that he only gives when you two were completely alone. 

“You look ravenous in my coat dear, I should have the tailor make one to your size.” He smiled as he adjusted the collar. 

“That would be nice,” you smiled as you saw a light shine through the greenhouse's door.

You were rummaging through Childe’s closet, as Teucer wrote a letter missing Childe. So in return you thought it would be really cute to send one of Childe’s dress shirts over, hoping it would keep the young lad at bay. As you rummage through you feel something soft and fluffy brush against your hand. You paused for sec, Childe doesn’t own anything fluffy. He’s normally wearing something semi-fancy or an outfit fit for a warrior. Letting your thoughts get you, you pulled the fluffy object out of the closet. You gave a soft smile as you pulled his formal overcoat out. You brushed against the fabric, you normally only get to see him wearing this during special events. And when those special events happen you normally can’t see him because you’re so far away from the stage to see the harbingers so close. But when you do get a glimpse you understand the girls in Snezhnaya who fawn over the harbingers. Childe looks so handsome in the coat, and looks very warm. 

An idea popped into your head as you walked out of the walk-in closet. You pranced towards the giant mirror that sat in your shared bedroom. Gently putting the outer coat on you were overwhelmed by Childe’s cologne. You smiled as you hugged the coat closer to you. Looking at yourself in the mirror you were engulfed by his coat. The metal charms softly clanked against each other as you gave yourself a little twirl. Smiling to yourself you cuddled yourself into the black fur. It was so soft and warm and reminded you so much of Childe. As you were lost in your thoughts you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. You yelped in surprise before you heard a familiar chuckle. 

“You look so cute Zolotse.” You hear Childe mumble against the fur.

“Ajax! You’re home early.” You looked at him in surprise. He smiled as he stared loving at you.

“Yeah, I was able to finish work early and was just too excited to come home.” He laughed a bit before burying his head back into the fur coat. You leaned into Childe’s lean body as you two stayed in that position for a moment. 

“Maybe I’ll ask Pantalone to make a custom jacket for you.” Childe smiled as he picked you up in ease and twirled you around. You two laughed before Childe dropped you two on your soft bed. He was on top of you while you were sprawled against the bed. The Coat slightly hanging on you.

“Ha, you look so cute wearing my clothes. I wonder…” Childe gave a devious smile before you playfully hit his shoulder.

“Take me to dinner first Mr.Fatui Harbinger.” You two laughed as Childe fell on top of you engulfing you in a hug. 

[checosbluespring]

secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1

max verstappen x perez!fem reader

genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 3.1k

song: too sweet - hozier

sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish. 

It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you. 

A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him. 

Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate. 

Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted. 

You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a  black  over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.

Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth. 

A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance. 

“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”

With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption. 

Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances. 

As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel. 

“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.

“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries. 

“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.

“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room” 

“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.

“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me” 

Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it” 

“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer. 

Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”

“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around” 

“You are really close with them, aren't you?”

“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them” 

“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.

“Do you want something to drink” he offers

“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone. 

“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”

Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You laugh

“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”

“Really? How so?” You question

“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck. 

“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface” 

“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms” 

He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you. 

You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan. 

Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”. 

He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible. 

You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”. 

“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more. 

Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours” 

You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this” 

“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.

You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him. 

“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”

That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.

You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive. 

“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n” 

You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”. 

You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.

As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet. 

Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.

That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.

Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.

The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod. 

Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him. 

You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity.  You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room. 

You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared. 

You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way. 

The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted. 

Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that. 

After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry. 

Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant? 

Simple. You won't. 

[artdcnaldson]

*taps mic* "Ahem... jerking Art off and making him swallow his own cum"

The crowd boos. "That's disgusting!" One yells. "He'd never do that!" Another shouts. Then, everyone gasps and turns around as someone in the back stands and speaks up. "Yes, he would." Says no other than Arthur Clive Donaldson himself.

Alternatively.... cumming in you and then eating you out...

And the crowd goes... home!

🚬

Sighhhh <3

But yeah <3 Especially thinking very hard about jerking off sweet little 2006 Art. Perhaps even comforting him in your hotel room after he's lost the junior US Open final </3

He wants to feel desired, like he's won something. So he feels vindicated when you're clinging to his side, all starry eyed and happy to be in his presence. Patrick is across the room talking to Tashi, showing off his trophy with that dazzling, perfect, smarmy, frustrating smile of his. So he tries to focus on you, as you tell him about how you also won in the mixed doubles tournament, and you saw his final that morning and you thought he played really well.

It doesn't take much convincing to get him to your hotel room— he didn't really want to stay at the afterparty anyway, feeling like Anna Mueller with his stupid little plate engraved— Art Donaldson, runner up. He feels better on your bed, with your tongue down his throat, moaning into your mouth as you strip him out of the fancy outfit his grandma had bought him, expecting a win. A nice white button down, black slacks, his grandad's cufflinks. Even a goddamn tie.

"You're so hot," you murmur against his lips, once he's down to his boxers and you can feel him hard, tenting the fabric. "Can I touch you?"

And, fuck, on a night like this, who is he to refuse?

Your hands are so so soft around him, slick from spit so he can glide in your palm. Slow, practiced. You kiss him so sweetly as you jerk him off, tongue brushing his, licking into his mouth. You can taste the soda he had at the party, the cigarette he'd puffed on while you waited for your shuttle back to the hotel.

"Jesus that's—" He trails off, hips bucking up into your fist, seeking more. But you set the pace, and you want this to be slow. So you just smile, nod and kiss his jaw. You twist your fist a bit and make him groan, so his head falls back and you can trail your hot kisses down his throat. "God, you're killing me."

You relish in having him like this— panting and falling apart in your hand, literally. Art Donaldson— golden boy on the court. You toy with him— slowing down when his moans get too fast, when you feel his balls drawing up and his cock pulsing... speeding up when you want to feel his breath hot, panting against your throat, his kisses insistent.

He doesn't even have time to warn you before he's spilling into your hand. Hot, thick ropes that drip between your fingers. He groans and buries his face in your shoulder, embarrassed by his inability to last during a simple handjob.

"Sorry, that's... sorry," He stammers, his cheeks pretty pink. His cock flags, just a bit between his thighs, and you know this isn't the first time you'll make him cum that night. Not even close.

You kiss his cheek once, then bring your fingers up to his lips. He hesitates, just a moment, before his tongue peeks out, lapping at his spend on your fingers. His nose wrinkles, just a bit at the unfamiliar taste, but he obeys, until there's no trace of him left on your palm other than his spit.

You kiss his lips and taste his cum on his tongue. It doesn't take long for him to get hard again.

[undyingoracle]

hai omg can you do alastor reacting to the person he's courting giving him flowers instead of the other way around

Alastor reacting to you giving him flowers.

warnings: gn!reader. romantic scenario. might be ooc. sorry about that.

A/N: I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA. At first, I wanted to write something like him just getting flattered by it? but I think he would be more upset and disappointed that he wasn't the one who was giving you flowers. after all, "he's a gentleman and should spoil his beloved with that kind of gifts every time he got the chance to." (that's what he thinks, at least). Hope you can enjoy it anon! ;; thanks for your request. ♡

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. feel free to correct me as long as you're polite about it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝅭ㅤ𝅭ㅤ⎯⎯ㅤㅤִㅤㅤ୨ ♡ ୧ㅤㅤִ ⎯⎯ ㅤ𝅭ㅤ𝅭

February 14th. a date everyone knew the meaning of. a date where everyone did their best to show off to their loved ones, to spoil them or even fall into the deepest of the lustful desires.

however, for the radio demon it was a pretty irrelevant date. he didn't really saw the meaning of it, and therefore, he didn't get as excited as other people did, and it wasn't exactly because he didn't got gifts or attention during it, in fact he did get lots of gift, specially from people of the cannibal town (who seemed to like him quite a lot). however, all those gift were meaningless to him, and he even hate most of them, since they're usually some kind of sweets, and he isn't really a fan of them, so they ended up in the trash or someone else's hands. he just didn't cared about it, nor the people who gave it to him.

nevertheless, this time it was a little different. he had someone in mind he wanted to give a gift to, and since a few weeks ago that thought has been running around his mind. but being quite unused to being on the giving end on this dates, he was conflicted on what to get to his special someone. flowers? he already got them flowers before, a lot of times and a lot of different types and colors. chocolates? he couldn't even stand the sweet smell of them. other kind of desserts had the same effect. and just like that, he keep discarding ideas that wasn't good enough for him. he wanted to blow you mind, he couldn't just do the simplest things!

soon enough, he asked for advice to the best person: Rosie, who, after giving some other ideas that were also discarded, ended up suggesting that he invited you to have dinner together, but instead of going out to a fancy restaurant, both of you just stayed at the hotel and HE cooked the most mind blowing meal himself. that way not only was he able to show off his cooking skills, but he also was able to make sure that everything was perfect. to the decoration, to the lighting, to the ambience music, to the flavors. he was simply in control of everything. he agreed to this, he thought it was a perfect idea!

so the next day, he went to ask Charlie for help at having a space for you and him alone. she agreed excitedly, of course, and promised him that absolutely no one was going to interrupt their perfect date. so, with her help, he got the kitchen, dining room, and a balcony all for himself.

when the day itself arrived, he immediately started decorating the dining room and balcony, with just a little magic it was a quick process. the table had a pretty dark red tablecloth, in the middle of it were some light up candles. it was just what you expect to see at a table on a romantic dinner really, kind of the cliché stuff. the balcony, however, had some lights wrapped around the railing, you could find some flower petals from the table leading the way to the entrance of the balcony. he wanted it to be the most unforgivable night of your life! that way, even if you ever (tried to because hes not letting thay happen) leave him, you would remember him whenever this date came around.

he also cooked some fancy dishes, some simpler meals that he knew you liked, and Rosie got him some sweets (against his will) that she knew you would love. everything was made for you to love.

soon enough, the time for the date came around, and you showed up. as you were standing before him, he tilted his head, confused as to why you kept you arms behind your back.

— Darling, are you perhaps hiding something from me?

he asked as you giggled. then, you pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind you back and extended it to him, holding it with both hands as you said "happy valentine's day!" excitedly. he looked at you in shock. you got him flowers. and he didn't. you prepared such a beautiful bouquet for him, and he didn't? he felt disappointed in himself for not getting you something as basic as a bouquet of flowers. how could he not get something like that for you? how could he even think of not getting such a beautiful gift to you? he could have made it the best and biggest bouquet ever and he didn't! how could he-

— Hey, Al? Are you ok?

he came back to his senses when you spoke to him. he looked at your worried expression and just chuckled.

— You just took me by surprise, my dear! I wasn't expecting to get such a beautiful and heartfelt gift from you. I am truly flattered by such a cute gesture!

— You're sure? You seem a little... down.

— Well, I am a bit disappointed in myself. After all, such a beautiful person gave me such beautiful flowers, but I didn't get them flowers! How could a gentlemen forget to bring flowers to his date? For shame.

he replied in a joking tone, making you laugh. your laugh was absolutely worth everything to him, he adored it and he loved seeing you so happy.

— Don't worry silly! you already planned all this, didn't you? that's more than enough for me.

after you were done talking he extended his hand to you, taking the bouquet in his other hand as he lead your way to the table. he wanted that night to be something that you wouldn't forget, but he didn't planned for it to be a night that he also wouldn't forget because of a little surprise. not that he was complaining though.

[therealcocoshady]

HI

HEAR ME OUT

Christmas party at 50 Cent’s place. You’re in your cute lil Christmas skirt. You’re kinda friends with Marsh ‘cause y’all are both in the music industry and actually go to the same studio 🙊

AND THEN THEY GET TOGETHER

and it’s HOT

But also kind of cute and you’re an amazing writer so no pressure of course

hope you have a GLORIOUS week!!

Christmas spirit

Author’s Note : Hi 💕 Thank you so much for your request ✨. I had a blast writing it ! I also took the opportunity to mix it with another one I received, which is Eminem x Vintage pop star bombshell reader. I hope you enjoy it 💕.

CW : Christmas spirit - Fluff and flirting - Light smut

One of the perks of Marshall staying at 50’s place during his stay in LA was that he didn’t have to put up with an impersonal hotel room. It was like home away from home. But one of the drawbacks of staying at his friend’s was that he had to put up with his extravagant ideas. Like turning his estate in a Winter Wonderland, for a Christmas party he had conveniently forgotten to tell him about. And of course, when he found out, he was too late to bounce. He was coming back from the home gym when he found the caterers preparing everything. « Yo, Curtis? What’s that for? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. « This? Oh ! Nothing ! Just hosting a little get together to celebrate the holidays. You know, nothing fancy » his friend said with a smirk.

One look around and he could tell it was a lie. Judging by the elaborate decor and the giant Christmas tree that his assistants were putting up, it was going to be fancy. And if the number of bottles being brought out was any indication, that get together wasn’t going to be small either. « You didn’t tell me » Marshall stated in an accusatory tone, though it betrayed his kindness for the man he considered to be family. « If I’d told you, you would have found an excuse not to attend » his friend simply replied. « Now, I don’t expect you to put on a suit, but a shower would be appreciated, Em » he grinned. Marshall rolled his eyes and walked to his bedroom. He should have known better than to expect his friend to be chill, especially during the holiday season.

When he walked back downstairs, about an hour later, he had done the best he could to clean up. He wasn’t the type to pack a suit unless he was going to a wedding or a funeral, so he did his best, opting for dark wash jeans, sneakers, a black sweater and a jacket. He spotted 50 who, of course, was looking fancy in a tailored suit, talking to some guests wearing their best cocktail attire. He wasn’t exactly one for social gatherings, not a fan of mingling with industry types and awkward small talk. If it had been anyone else’s house, he would have walked out without a second thought. But it was 50 or, as he knew him, Curtis. And if he wanted him there, he would make an effort (though he would make sure to have him repay him the favor). « Marshall! » Curtis boomed, cutting through the chatter. « Glad you made an effort, bro. Trust me, you won’t regret it » he promised. Marshall gave him a side-eye and a smirk. « Wanna bet? » he mumbled.

His friend smirked and glanced at you, who was standing there. You were in the far side of the room, chatting with Dre and a couple of other people. You were smiling but it was clear that you were putting on a brave face. Everyone, everywhere, knew about your recent drama with your ex-boyfriend, some A-list actor. You’d been broken up for a few weeks but he had been quick to announce that he was expecting a « bundle of joy » with his new girl, some TikToker. Back when you had broken up, there had been some rumors about him cheating but, now that the news of the pregnancy was out, it was clear that there had been some… overlap. To say you were feeling absolutely humiliated would be the understatement of the year. But 50 had convinced you to show up to his party nonetheless, using his charm and clever banter, promising good champagne and excellent company. You had met him, Marshall and a bunch of others at Dre’s studio, where you had recorded your last album. Your music had nothing to do with Hip Hop, but you got along with everyone and, contrary to what you would have thought, they didn’t have anything against your « vintage bombshell pop star» persona. They liked to tease you about it, but it was never mean. And you enjoyed teasing them right back.

For your comeback to LA’s party life, and to honor 50’s extravagance, you had opted for a sleek, vintage red dress that accentuated your curves, with some fake white fur lining the hem of the skirt. Very Christmassy. Your hair was spilling over your shoulders and you donned some alluring red lips. Everything to give you the confidence you desperately needed. And thank God for the glass of Chemin Du Roi, you were able to appear like your bubbly, usual self. You were laughing at Dre’s jokes while, on the other side of the room, Marshall and 50 were watching you. « Excellent night to make your move » 50 hummed quietly. Marshall turned to him and raised an eyebrow. « What? » he asked. « I think it’s time for you to get out of your comfort zone, brother. Live a little » he replied with a grin, to which Marshall scowled. « I live plenty ». His friend looked at him and rolled his eyes. « Bro, you’ve been single longer than I’ve been rich » Curtis sighed. « And our friend Y/N could use a distraction tonight, if rumors are to be believed ». Marshall gave him a look. « You didn’t seriously- » he began but his friend cut him off immediately. « Relax. I didn’t set anything up. Just… Go talk to her. She’s cool. And I’ve seen the way you looked at her last time she was in the studio. We all did ». Marshall gave him a side-eye and pursed his lips « Did you now? ». 50 chuckled and nodded. « Yes. And now, there’s no one in the way » he said as he gave him a friendly slap in the back. « Now, go. You’ll thank me later ».

Marshall shook his head but still made his way toward the group. You noticed him before he even got there, you eyes lighting up in recognition. « Marshall! Hey ! » you greeted him with a smile. « I didn’t know you’d be here » you said. Marshall quickly hugged you and smiled. « Yeah, well, you know 50. Didn’t give me much of a choice » he hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets. « Tell me about it » you giggled. « He practically coerced me. Harassed me and threatened to post some of his memes with my face on his Instagram ». He chuckled, genuinely, and relaxed a little. You chatted for a little while, keeping up with each other’s latest work project. You didn’t doubt that he knew about all the cover stories about you, but you appreciated that he had the elegance not to mention it. He kept things light, entertaining you with his classic sarcasm. At some point, you were joined by Curtis, who arbored a victorious smirk. « How is the gorgeous Ms. Claus doing? » he asked you. « You guys look like Christmas card material ». You giggled while Marshall rolled his eyes. « Come on, man » he groaned. « I’m just sayin’… Our girl Y/N is all elegant and you… Well, you’re kinda grinchy. Opposites attract, right? » 50 hummed. « Keep talking and I’ll disappear like the Grinch » Marshall warned, though his tone held more humor than bite. Of course, Curtis being Curtis, he didn’t let it go. Far be it from him. « Just trying help you out. Ain’t nothing wrong with a little Christmas connection. ’Tis the season and all that » he said as he clapped Marshall on the shoulder.

You let out a giggle and crossed your arms. « Did you have me come here so that you could play matchmaker, Curtis? » you asked teasingly. « What can I say? I believe in Christmas miracles » he shrugged with an enigmatic smile. « You already said that when you forced me to come here » you playfully reminded him. «What can I say? These movies got to me » he smirked. « You are relentless. Do you do this with all your guests? Or are we special ? » you asked. « Y’all are special! But look at you, Y/N. You’re smiling, laughing, looking like a Christmas angel. And Em is not hiding in a corner with his notebook. You’re vibing ». Both you and Marshall rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. 50 chuckled and promised he’d be back after making his rounds, like a dutiful host. « Sorry about him » Marshall mumbled. « He’s insufferable, sometimes ». You giggled and took a sip of your drink. « He is. But that’s why we love him. Besides, he’s got a point. You are a little grinchy » you grinned. He smirked, leaning forward slightly. « And you are leaning into the whole holiday angel thing ». Your smile softened and you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. « You’re sweet » you murmured. « Sweet? » he repeated, raising an eyebrow. « Careful. You’re gonna ruin my reputation ». You stared into his eyes and gave him your signature, seductive smile. « I think you can handle it » you teased. « Besides… Maybe it’d be good for you to… embrace the Christmas spirit ». He leaned just a bit closer and your perfume, something light and sweet, caught his attention. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Marshall’s eyes flicked to your lips, and you noticed, your heart skipping a beat. The fire of the nearby fireplace crackled softly, the world outside of your little bubble forgotten.

« You’re staring » you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. « Am I? » he asked, his voice just as low. You nodded slowly, a teasing grin appearing on your face. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he leaned in, closing the space between you, inch by inch. « Well tell me if I’m wrong » he murmured, his voice rough and hesitant. « But I don’t think you’d mind ». Your breath hitched and your gaze flicked to his lips. But before you could reply and give in to the flirt, you were interrupted, the spell shattering. « Marshall! I didn’t even have time to say hi! » Dre greeted, his booming voice cutting through the moment like a record scratch. Both of you pulled back abruptly and you blinked while Marshall’s jaw tightened. Dre strode over, seemingly oblivious to the tension he’d just cut through. He held a drink in one hand, his phone in the other, and his expression was all focused. « I finished mixing one of the tracks you recorded the other day, man. I have a couple versions. You don’t mind if we talk shop real quick, do you? ». Marshall exhaled through his nose, forcing a neutral expression. « You don’t want to… Enjoy the party ? » he asked carefully, but Dre shook his head. « Man, with all the projects I have going on? It’s crazy. And I know you don’t care for parties either ». You bit your lip, fighting back a laugh. « I will let you gentlemen talk shop. I’ll go and grab another drink » you said as you stood gracefully. As you walked away, your vintage dress swaying gently, Marshall watched you go. « Did I interrupt something? » Dre asked cluelessly, his mind obviously too focused on work. « You work too hard » Marshall sighed. While he followed Dre to another room, his eyes drifted to you, standing near the bar, glass of champagne in hand, your laugh ringing out like a melody.

After what felt like hours, dissecting beats with Dre, his thoughts were buzzing. When he came back, his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. He exhaled through his nose, hoping you hadn’t gone home, though he figured you weren’t the type to leave without saying goodbye. He wandered through the house, where people were gathered in several rooms, drinking, smoking cigars, dancing… As he turned a corner, he noticed a door slightly ajar, at the end of a quiet hallway. The library. He stepped closer and pushed the door open, revealing a stunning space with shelved filled with books that looked more decorative than well-read, though a few had clearly seen use. A fireplace crackled softly in the corner, its glow casting long shadows over the rich mahogany furniture. And there you were, sitting on one of the plush couches near the fire. Your legs were tucked under you, your champagne flute resting on a small side table. Your gaze seemed distant and, for a moment, Marshall hesitated. You looked incredibly serene, the skirt of your dress spread elegantly over the couch, the fur trim catching the soft light. You looked like you belonged on some vintage postcard. « There you are » he said quietly. You looked up, almost startled, though your expression softened when you saw him. « Finished making magic with Dre? » you teased. « Something like that » he sad as he showed his hands into his pockets. « Figured you’d be halfway out the door, by now ». You laughed lightly but shook your head. « Just needed a breather and thought I’d hide out here for a bit » you said with a smile. « it’s cozy. Good hiding spot » he commented. « And if I join you? ». You shook your head and gestured for him to sit next to you. He joined you and looked at you for a few seconds. « You okay? » he asked after a moment, his voice softer now. You tilted your head, studying him with a small, amused smile. « Why wouldn’t I be? » you asked. « I dunno. Dre kind of barged in and I thought that maybe you’d… Lost interest » he said as he scratched the back of his neck. You let out a soft chuckle as you shook your head and leaned closer to him. « Did you? ». He smirked, his eyes locking onto yours. « Not a chance ».

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. You broke the silence, your tone teasing but your expression serious. «Should we pick up where we left off, or is Dre going to steal you away again? » you asked in a sultry voice. Marshall chuckled, his defenses crumbling under your gaze. « He’s got nothing on this ». Taking your cue, he leaned in closer, his hand resting on your hip. Your breath hitched as you looked at him, your hands finding your way to his chest. « Thought you didn’t care for Christmas spirit? » you whispered. « Might make an exception » he murmured, leaning in. The moment hung in the air and your lips met. The kiss started slow, tentative, as if you were both testing the waters. But it didn’t take long for the heat to ignite. Your fingers slid to his shoulders, pulling him closer, while his hands tightened around your waist, drawing you against him. The rest of the world disappeared. The distant hum of the party, the clinking of glasses fading into nothing. All that mattered was the way your lips moved against each other, soft and warm and full of something electric.

The flickering firelight in the library was casting a soft glow over the both of you, lighting up your flushed cheeks as you leaned into Marshall’s touch, your fingers brushing the curve of his jaw, gently stroking his beard. What started as an urgent kiss turned into a slow making out session, more about discovery, savoring the connection. His lips were soft against yours, as was his touch, his fingers gently digging into your hips. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, and he took a deep breath. « Do you… Want to get out of here? » he asked, his voice low and rough. You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with interest, a soft smile lighting up your face. « And go where? » you asked. He seemed to hesitate, gazing at your face for a couple of seconds, his own eyes full of anticipation. « I have a room here. Upstairs » he said finally. « If you’re good with that ».

Your lips quirked into a playful smile. You liked that he was being a gentleman about it, leaving the choice up to you. And going upstairs seemed like a fine choice indeed. « Lead the way » you hummed softly as you offered him your hand. You were barefoot, your heels forgotten by the couch as the two of you quietly slipped out of the library and into the hallway that was bathed in shadows as the sounds of the party drifted faintly in the distance. Marshall guided you upstairs, one of his hands holding yours, the other resting on the small of your back as you moved. A simple, yet incredibly intimate gesture. You entered his room, a spacious but understated guest suite, which Curtis had decked out for modern touches and elegant furniture, a king-sized bed that sat in the center and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the LA skyline. As you glanced around, you noticed that it was more minimalistic than the rest of the house. Somehow, it felt more Marshall than 50. You spotted some of his belongings in various corners : notebooks and pens on the desk, a vintage, portable CD player with some Beats headphones and a comfy hoodie on the back of a chair. « That’s nice » you hummed with a soft smile.

The both of you stood there for a moment, the silence stretching, but not in an uncomfortable way. Marshall stepped closer to you, his hands finding your waist again as he looked into your eyes. « You sure about this? » he asked, and you could see a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. You nodded, your fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of his tee-shirt. « I’m sure » you whispered in a seductive voice. What followed wasn’t rushed or hurried. It was a slow, deliberate exploration of each other. He pulled you closer and kissed you, letting his hands explore your body over your dress in a gentle pace, as if he were asking permission. You playfully ran a finger over his chest, playing with the hem of his tee-shirt, before letting your finger touch his skin. He seemed to get the message and got rid of his jacket and tee, and you enjoyed the sight of his muscular body. So much so that you couldn’t refrain from smiling. For a split second, he arbored a visible smirk, before capturing your lips again. You ran your hands over his torso, his back, feeling every inch of skin, every muscle… You weren’t sure if it was the recent singleness, the champagne or simply his captivating presence, but it felt like you couldn’t get enough. You were used to his usual, guarded demeanor but now, it was giving way to something that was both raw and tender, which you met with equal intensity.

He slowly ran a hand in the back of your dress as he stared into your eyes, and slowly started unzipping it, his face inches away from yours. When he was done, the dress fell to your feet, revealing a stunning corset and lace panties. Marshall stared at you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape, taking in the sight in front of him. Evidently, you were dressed to the nines, down to the lingerie, and you definitely lived up to the vintage bombshell persona. « You’re gorgeous » he murmured, a hint of reverence in his voice. You didn’t say a word, simply gave him a soft, seductive smile, the look on your face full of unspoken promises. He took your hand and led you to the bed. You sat on the edge, gesturing for him to come closer, and started undoing his belt but he grabbed your wrist and stopped your movement, shaking his head. Instead, he kissed the inside of your wrist and gently pushed you so that you’d lie down. You were beneath him, your skin glowing in the warm light of the bedside lamp. Your eyes held his, soft and vulnerable, waiting for his next move. He captured your lips once again and cupped your cheek. The move, however simple and innocent, had you still under his touch. Your lips parted slightly as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your neck, going further down with each kiss. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, as though he was memorizing the feel of you, the taste of you, the way you trembled beneath him.

« Marshall » you whispered, your voice suddenly unsteady. As much as you enjoyed it, as you craved for more, you were taken aback by the way he took his time, unhurried. You were used to men being charmed by you, by your persona as a glamorous diva, but it seemed like none of them had taken the time to show such reverence. He looked at you, smiling, before brushing your jawline with his lips. « Let me » he murmured. He started moving lower, his hands sliding down your sides as his lips trailed down, caressing you as if you were a sacred work of art. His touch was slow, reverent, as though he was savoring every moment, every inch of you. He reached your panties, pressing a kiss over the fine lace fabric. You gasped softly, your body arching into him, and he smiled against you. « May I? » he whispered. You heard yourself whine, almost pleading. Next thing you knew, he was making your panties slide off your legs and your hands were sliding into his hair as he continued to worship you with his mouth. The room was filled with your sounds, small whimpers and gasps that only grew louder as he seemed to take them as encouragements. When he finally lifted his head to look at you again, his blue eyes were dark with emotion, his expression raw and unguarded. « I want you » he said, his voice rough but steady. You nodded eagerly, your eyes full of desire.

He quickly got rid of his clothes and, as soon as he was within your reach, you pulled him to you, as if you wanted to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. Your mouth found its way to his and, eventually, you found yourselves under the covers, your bodies intertwined. Every touch, every kiss he gave you was deliberate, meant to draw you deeper into the moment. He could feel the way your body responded to him, your breaths quickening, hands gripping him like you didn’t want to let go. He whispered your name against your skin, his voice low and filled with desire. As the intensity built, Marshall surrendered completely under your touch, your voice, your presence. His fingers were digging Ito your skin, the movements of his hips becoming more frantic, and he could’t help the moan that escaped his lips as your nails dug in his back. When you finally reached your peak together, it was nearly overwhelming, your bodies trembling as you clung to each other. Marshall collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both caught your breath, skin damp and hearts racing in unison. He looked at you, who were absolutely glowing, despite your hair being all messy and your impeccable red lip being long gone. He’d seen you around Dre’s studio, in somewhat casual attire, but he had never seen you so natural, so raw… And you were even more stunning, ethereal. As he gazed at you, he couldn’t help but feel privileged. Seeing the diva so close, it was like admiring a work of art. Except you weren’t a diva. It was one of the rare times someone saw you as something else. Something real. Raw. Beautiful. Marshall brushed a thumb lightly along your cheekbone, his movements slow and reverent, as though he were committing every detail to memory. « You look different, » he murmured, his voice low and rough from exhaustion but carrying an undeniable tenderness.

Your lips curved into a small smile, your eyes still closed. « Different, huh? Is that a good thing? » you asked in a light laugh. « Better than good, » he said honestly. « You don’t need all that extra stuff. You’re... just- ». He stopped himself, unsure how to articulate what he was feeling. You opened your eyes then, your gaze soft as you studied him. « You don’t have to say anything, » you said gently, your voice carrying the same quiet intimacy as the moment you were sharing. « I think I know what you mean. »

He nodded, relieved you understood. He wasn’t the type to wax poetic, but something about you like this—so unguarded, so real—made his chest tighten in a way that was both unfamiliar and undeniable. You shifted slightly, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest. « It’s kind of nice, » you admitted after a while. « Not having to... perform, you know? Just being here. ». He stared at you and nodded. « Yeah, » Marshall said, his hand moving to rest against the small of your back. « I get that. »

You lay there in comfortable silence, breaths syncing as the moments stretched on. Every now and then, your laugh would break the quiet as Marshall teased you about your fur-lined dress or you ribbed him about his notebook collection. But between the laughter and easy conversation, there was something else—something unspoken but palpable.

Marshall’s fingers idly brushed the curve of your hip under the sheets, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. Your expression softened, a mix of vulnerability and quiet wonder. None of you addressed it—not directly—but it was there in the way he held you, in the way you lingered against him as though reluctant to let the night end. « You’re full of surprises, you know that? » he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.You couldn’t help but smirk, your fingers playing with the chain thin chain he wore around his neck. « Well, they do call me Ms Claus, after all » you teased. He chortled and rested his forehead against yours, while your hand settled over his heart. « I think I’m starting to like Christmas spirit » he murmured.

[tarottaleteller]

* Disclaimer: This reading is for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional reading. Please take what resonates, leave what doesn't. It is my first public reading ever, so, hopefully, y'all will like it!

Pile 1

The Sun, 8 of Cups, King of Pentacles, Emperor

Hey, Pile 1! I feel crazy chemistry here, literally the sparks will be flying all around. It’s like both of you are just so overjoyed to be with each other that you can’t help but feel like little children around each other, giggling and having fun. Love is in the air with you two here. Most likely, the sex will happen after you guys have already confessed love to each other. The sex with them will make you forget about all the exes you had before lol. You are literally going to outshine any other partners each of you had before. Also, your partner will make you see sex completely differently, you might change your attitude and views on sex with your FS. 

With the King of Pentacles and Emperor, if you are feminine, your partner will be extremely masculine and most likely will take the lead during your first time. I hear “Just relax, darling”. There might also be some sort of aesthetic pleasure, perhaps you’ll do it in a fancy hotel room or with rose petals on the bed, etc. The sex itself might be slow, the masculine will really want to take his time to enjoy the feminine and taste her. I see that the feminine will just completely give up control and give in to the pleasure. The feminine here will feel 100% safe and secure with the masculine.

Pile 2 

3 of Cups, 7 of Swords, 6 of Pentacles, Justice

This one is interesting. You and your FS will be at a party or some sort of celebration. Might be a bit drunk. I see a couple just drinking and enjoying the moment. Lots of flirting and teasing, exchanging knowing looks across the room, as in “I want you”, “I’m ready”, “Tonight is the night” kinda looks. Then one of y’all will just come up with some lie to leave the party early and stay alone. Or you might literally just sneak out of the place without even telling anyone lol.

Damn, I see you having long ass foreplay. Not because one of you feels insecure or anything like that. It just feels like you two can't get enough of each other. Can’t stop kissing your partner, can’t let go of their body, you just want to devour each other. I see you standing next to the bed, making out like crazy because you’re that hungry for each other. At some point, one or both of you will end up on their knees. Generally, heavy focus on oral here. Like you will feel like you have to thoroughly enjoy each other before even getting to the actual business. There will be a very good balance though, none of you will give more than they will receive. Both of you might just forget about your own pleasure and focus on making your partner feel good. I don’t necessarily see you being in serious relationships before that, after the first sex, however, you might actually see your partner as your potential FS.

Pile 3 

Ace of Wands, Magician, 6 of Cups, 2 of Cups

With the Ace of Wands popping out of the deck, there is definitely going to be a lot of passion here haha. You two are literally burning for each other. I see the masculine here being the initiator though. So, probably both of you feel the desire equally, but the masculine is just more direct and straightforward with it. He might also be a little impatient since this card literally flew out of the deck lol. But he will definitely know what he’s doing. Magician is a master at his craft y’all, he will make you FEEL things. I actually feel quite dizzy just thinking about it. Just as in Pile 1, the masculine will sort of say something like “Just lay down and relax, love” and will do absolute wonders with your body. 

I don’t see just intense attraction here, you will actually love the heck out of each other. With the purest love possible. I see the feelings here being demonstrated very sincerely and openly. Both of you just blindly trust each other. Both the 6 of Cups and the 2 of Cups indicate soulmates or twin flames, if you believe in those, so you will definitely see each other as “The One”. The love here is very deep and you absolutely adore each other and will do anything for this love to grow. The connection will already be incredibly strong here by the time the first sex happens for sure. Aw, Pile 3 this was too cute.

Pile 4

9 of Cups, Knight of Cups, Queen of Cups, King of Swords, Judgement

Right away, lots of Cups energy here, so the feelings will be strong here. First of all, both of you will see each other as a literal dream come true. Everything you wanted in your partner, you will find in your FS. Total satisfaction with each other, you’re each other’s ideal type. The masculine in this pile is naturally a colder, more reserved individual. However, with the feminine, he will show himself as a gentle and loving man. Wow, the masculine will just be insanely in love here. He will be ready to give up anything for his woman. She will wake the emotions and love in him. 

That will translate into sex as well. I see that scene from the Game of Thrones, where Deyeneris started looking directly in the eyes of Khal Drogo during sex to deepen the connection and eventually they fell in love. That kind of dynamic. If you are a feminine, you will soften the masculine with your love and affection. I see the feminine holding control in the bedroom, but not necessarily actionwise, but rather it will be mental power like she controls both of her and his emotions to make the sex fully satisfying. The masculine, on the other hand, will be responsible for the action itself, holding control over both of their bodies. There is also a strong feeling that even before sex you might be already talking about creating a family, having kids, etc. Or it’s also possible that the sex will happen on the wedding night. 

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x ex fem!reader

Summary: Seeing your ex for a job is the worst possible scenario—you think?

Prompt: second chance - "I never thought I'd see you again."

~ i hope you like this @dreamofbetterthings!! ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

The moment you see him, wearing torn fragments of an all-too-familiar blue suit, his brown hair just a little longer than it had been when you'd been dating, you freeze and your entire mission is forgotten.

You're clutching the case behind you. The blue, pink, and purple lights in the train car are now overwhelming as he seems to turns around in slow motion. 

You inhale, seeing how bruised and beaten he is. His eyes narrow when he sees you and he points at you. "You. I know you," he croaks, desperately trying to recognize you in the low light. You can't blame him. You'd changed in the last year.

"—Y/n?" Tangerine's voice is softer as he says your real name. You snap your head up to glare at him—force of habit—and he raises his arms in surrender, "S-sorry, sorry." He looks around too, relaxing when he sees that no one else is around. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" you argue, walking closer to him. Your mistake because he sees the case and instantly reaches for it. 

"You're the sneaky fucker that stole our case?" he hisses.

You pull the case away. "Hey! Hands off!" 

"Oh, piss off, it's mine!" Tangerine snaps and suddenly, the jerk of the train sends you falling forward and straight into his chest. You drop the case simultaneously and he wraps his arms around you to steady you. Your hands grasp his shirt and you look up as he looks down, your noses almost touching.

It's too personal—too familiar. 

You pull away and snatch the case from the ground as you sprint away from him. You've never had much luck running from him and this time is no different because the doors to the other train car falter and you slam into them, falling backward and hitting your head on the ground. Hard.

How fuckin' embarrassing. 

When you wake up, you're in some fancy hotel room, the sound of a shower being heard from the bathroom. You adjust to the light, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. When you see Lemon, sitting and cleaning his white shirt on his knee with a wet sponge, he sees you and smiles.

"He monopolizes the shower. Ya know this, Petal." 

Petal. You haven't heard that code name since you first met the twins—three years ago now. 

You touch your head and wince.

"He did say you would feel a bruise when ya woke up."

"What happened?" you ask and Lemon shrugs. 

"Complications. But, all that matters is that we're all in one piece, hm?"

You look around again and then your eyes widen when Tangerine comes out of the shower, wearing a pair of checkered blue pajama pants you know very well and your heart leaps. He's in a white shirt and using his towel to dry his hair. Lemon stands silently and pats his brother on the shoulder before locking himself in the bathroom. 

Tangerine turns his head to you and sits on the edge of the opposite bed, staring at you with sharp eyes. "I never thought I would see ya again," he says bluntly. 

"Me neither," you tell him honestly, also staring at him. 

"Why did you change your number?"

"Why did you leave?"

Tangerine frowns. "Me?" his voice raises, "You left."

This information stumps you. Why did he think you left? Sure, you had been the one to initiate the breakup, but that was because he had spent the last months growing more and more distant.

He had left long before you had.

"I didn't leave by choice! I had to leave because it was obviously what you wanted."

Tangerine turns paler and his knee bounces. "I never wanted you to break up with me! I was goin' through a hard fuckin' time and ya just up and left me!"

"I had to leave because I couldn't stay anymore. You made my life miserable." 

Hearing this, Tangerine snaps. Only, he doesn't become angry like you've seen him do a thousand times before. He doesn't scream or storm away. Instead, he rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, going quiet. Too quiet.

When he sees the small shakes of his shoulders you panic. You hate seeing him cry. It's such a rare sight. You stand and kneel next to him, your hands cupping his cheeks as you force him to look at you. His cheeks are crimson and he looks like a petulant child, the tears in his eyes refusing to fall no matter how hard he tries.

"Hey," you whisper, your voice shaky. 

"Don't look at me," he grumbles and turns his head away. "I really made you that miserable? Fuck, I'm such a prick."

Your heart squeezes. "N-no, of course, you didn't—and you aren't a prick, not all the time or unreasonably so. You made me happy," you tell him urgently. "I loved you so very much, and that's why I had to leave. Don't you understand? You were destroying yourself, and that meant you were destroying us. I couldn't watch that happen anymore."

You rest your forehead against his, unable to control your movement. Your head is still throbbing from the minor concussion you're sure you've endured and so you'll blame that for what you say next. "I still love you, you know."

Tangerine's breathing has calmed and his tears have disappeared just as quickly as they came. He looks up and he feels like he's dreaming as he waits for you to continue. 

"I never really stopped. God, I've missed you more than you can imagine," you finish with a pitiful scoff.

Instead of words as an answer, Tangerine leans down and kisses your lips quickly. He moves away. "I've missed ya, luv," he finally says and then his hand finds your hair as he looks down at you adoringly. "I have loved you ever since I met you. I didn't stop either."

Your cheeks heat up as questions and doubts flood your mind, but his lips on yours again drowns those out until all you can think of is him. You kiss him back again, almost as if there hadn't been that tortuous one-year gap that had kept you apart.

"Ew, I fuckin' knew it. Get a fuckin' room, arseholes," Lemon's voice rings out but neither you nor Tangerine care.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @longlivedelusion, @princesssunderworld

[holylulusworld]

Their little maid (2)

Summary: Mafia business is dirty. The brothers need someone to clean up their mess and more.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Nick Fowler

Warnings: shy reader, flirty brothers, mafia business, money trouble, mentions of anxiety, pushy Bucky/Nick, overwhelmed reader

Their little maid masterlist

Catch up here: Their little maid (1)

A new job is a good thing. A new job means money and safety. A new job also means that your new bosses dictate your life.

You didn’t have a say when they sent people to get your belongings. Strangers touched all of your things, even your panties, and brought them to Nick and Bucky’s home.

Even though the room they offered you includes a walk-in wardrobe, access to a huge bathroom with a bathtub, and a reading nook, it doesn’t feel like home.

It feels like you’re staying at an overpriced, fancy hotel suite, and you don’t even dare touch anything. You look around the stylish room, sighing deeply. It’s not cozy or inviting. Every piece of furniture looks expensive and modern, but you already miss your old, worn-out armchair.

“You’re not happy.” Bucky leans in the door frame as you stand in the room, looking left and right. You didn’t unpack a thing in case you wanted to leave. Not that you have a choice. Without a job, you cannot pay rent. “Y/N, what is wrong with the room?”

“It’s not a home,” you hug yourself and try to calm down. “My armchair is not here, and I miss my bed and couch.”

“Doll, everything was old and worn out at your apartment. We got everything belonging to you.”

“I love my old armchair,” you sniff. “I know it’s not fancy, but it was mine. I got it from my favorite bookstore. The owner gave it to me after he had to close the store.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, “you have fond memories of the armchair.” He pushes off the door frame to step toward you. “How about this? We drive to your apartment tomorrow, and you get the armchair to make this room your new home.”

“I miss my couch too,” you say and point at the uncomfortable chaise lounge stand in the huge room they offered to you. “That’s not for sitting, only for show.”

Bucky laughs. “I didn’t buy it, doll. It was my mother. She helped us with the interior. I think she found it pretty.”

“It’s pretty but useless.” You wipe your wet eyes and try not to break down as memories of your home flood your mind. “I can’t sit on it.”

“Do we have a problem?” Nick casually walks into your room. “Buck, is something wrong? Does she have problems settling in?”

“She’s missing her armchair and couch. The chaise lounge is unusable according to our sweet new maid.” You shrink into yourself at Bucky’s words. The last thing you wanted was to anger your new bosses.

You wince and clutch your hands to your chest. “I’m sorry…” You choke out, afraid they will fire you now. Everything happened so fast, and you weren’t able to adapt to your new job and life.

“Buck, don’t scare her,” Nick huffs. “It’s alright, sweetness. We will get your couch and armchair and throw that monstrosity out of your room.” He flashes you a stunning smile, making you feel warm.

“Nick,” Bucky hisses. “I offered to get the armchair not months ago. We can have dinner after we get it.”

“How do you want to get it here?” You question. “It’s a big armchair, not a small one.”

Bucky grins. “Doll, we have our ways. If we say something shall happen, it happens. Do not worry. Get your jacket and shoes, and we can go for a ride.”

Going for a ride meant ending up stuck between Nick and Bucky in the backseat of a luxurious SUV. Clint, one of the people getting your belongings earlier today, is driving while his partner, Natasha—a stunning redhead—is chatting him up.

“So, doll, what does a librarian do all day?” Bucky asks. His thigh brushes yours, and you flinch because you can’t move away. Nick is glued to your other side; his warm body makes you all tingly. “Is the life of a librarian exciting?”

“Not really,” you murmur, afraid to speak any louder. “I ordered books, journals, and other resources. Most of the time, I was busy cataloging and keeping track of library materials. I helped patrons find books and to conduct research.”

Nick nods thoughtfully. His hand brushes your knees as he leans closer to hand Bucky your keys. “Sounds nice. I assume you liked your job.”

“Very much,” you gasp and start talking about your job and how you loved to help people. You keep out that it was nice to be around so many books, too. “Sadly, they had to close the library, and I didn’t have enough money to open a bookstore.”

Bucky and Nick share a look as you keep on talking. It’s the longest you've spoken to them since your job interview.

“Do you know the movie You’ve Got Mail?” You ask, and both men shake their heads. “I wanted a bookstore like Meg Ryan had in the movie. I know it’s a stupid romantic idea.” You drop your gaze and fall silent. “No one would’ve come to my store either way.”

The car stops in front of your apartment complex, and you suddenly feel anxious. These men live in a mansion, and now, they are about to look at your small apartment. “I can go in alone.”

“Doll, don’t be ridiculous,” Bucky laughs and opens the door. He slips out, offering his hand to you. You frown. He’s much too nice to a maid. “We got strong men who will carry your things.”

He jerks his head toward a group of men waiting in front of your apartment complex. You chew your lower lips and wring your hands. “Why are they here?”

“I told you,” Bucky smirks when you shy away from him the moment he tries to touch your cheek, “if we want something to be done, it’s considered done.”

“What my brother tries to tell you is that we will take a look at your home, and you can decide what you want to take with you. The guys will lift the heavy stuff,” Nick explains as you try to not panic.

Strangers will walk around your home, and you don’t feel comfortable having strangers in your home or near you. Reluctantly, you follow Nick and Bucky as they start to chat about their plans for tomorrow.

They act as if you aren’t even there when they start talking about their miserable love life and awful dates. You feel sorry for them and offer a tight smile.

“I bet Y/N wouldn’t leave me waiting at the restaurant or look at another man while we are having dinner,” Bucky suddenly grabs your hand to kiss it. “Right, doll?”

“Uh—no,” you squeak because Nick grabbed your other hand to mirror his brother. “That’s not nice.”

“She’s nice and so polite,” Nick whispers and grins wolfishly at his brother. “Right, brother.”

“Let’s get the armchair first.” Bucky narrows his eyes at his brother. “Patience is a virtue, Nick. I told you so many times before. Let’s not hurry things this time.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Nick replies as he looks you up and down. “We have all the time we need…”

Tags in reblog.

[freakingholland]

freakingholland's batboys headcanons part 2

dates and love languages edition!

A/N: hi cuties, here's another portion of my headcanons, please let me know if you want more! And as always - please let me know what you think about those! Also a disclaimer - I think all languages of love would apply but I thought it would be more fun to focus on 2 per person. Additional info! I have a dc event going on so if you want to request something now is the perfect time - post here :) Stay whelmed xx

questions/ideas here! - rules here my AO3 archive is here If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakinghollandmasterlist masterlist

Dick Grayson - quality time and acts of service

Loves going out on fancy dates, but his preferred dates are the stay-in ones. It’s more convenient and less energy-consuming but can be just as fun as being out and about.

He likes to order food, not because you both are too lazy to prepare it, but because it takes time. Sometimes it’s junk food, sometimes it’s proper meals from your favourite restaurant.

Most likely to bring home flowers just cause. Doesn’t matter if he’s running late from work, if he’s tired, absolute definition of if he wanted to he would!!!

Makes sure to buy plenty of snacks and drinks prior to the date night. Doesn’t spare money on food, dude’s got a proper appetite.

Usually wants to watch a movie, 90% of the time it just plays the role of a background noise (sometimes sleep just happens to take over entirely).

Loves catching up with you, likes to gossip as long as it’s not too derogatory.

Likes playing video games like it takes two, overcooked, stardew valley. Will watch youtube videos on games as well as streamers on twitch.

If the apartment is clean enough and you’re not expecting visitors he will propose doing a blanket tent. If your apartment could use cleaning then it’s a productive date aka cleaning night with music (beware he’ll deffo do a cartwheel in the living room).

Jason Todd - quality time and gifting

Jason loves going out on fancy dates. He likes the anticipation and more or less meticulous preparations for such dates. Genuinely enjoys watching you get ready and just chatting about everything and anything. Demands mirror pics before leaving.

It doesn’t matter what kind of entertainment you choose, he is willing to spend any money when it comes to having quality time together (not that other guys wouldn’t, it’s just Jason puts the most pressure on it). Cinema? Theatre? Going to a formal ball? Just tell him what you want to do (if you don’t he’ll make you talk).

If the date doesn’t extend to later-ish night time, he proposes the idea of making shopping stops along the way back home. His favorite stop Is definitely a book store (I know I know cliché but it’s fun to go to book stores isn’t it? Come on we’re all readers here! Doesn’t complain about going to drugstores or second-hands.

He has a favourite bakery with diabetic-friendly desserts (I hc Jay as a diabetic as I’ve mentioned here and here!). If you end up having a date at your own place he will bake something offbeat.

If you don’t feel like going out he will gladly snuggle with you and read a book. He just wants to be in the same room as you.

Have you seen that tiktok trend of eye-colored bracelets? Will buy materials for that and make them on a lazy night.

Tim Drake - quality time and physical touch

I feel like Tim is very much a fifty-fifty guy date types wise, totally depends on your energy levels. That aside he gives off major out-of-town weekend getaway type of vibes. 2 days off? Why not visit Paris?

He feels mentally supported by you and thus tends to plan little trips every couple of weeks to show his support. Sometimes it’s sightseeing in London for 3 days and sometimes it’s a trip to a hotel with a spa visit for an hour or two.

He realises how caught up and locked in with work he can be at times and feels guilty. When you go somewhere his devices are off (not entirely - for safety reasons).

Wants to hold hands every-freaking-where. If you’re not holding hands his palm is either on your thigh when sitting or draped over your shoulder. I don’t think you understand, he’s like a flypaper - I mean it!

If you end up having a date at home he would want to do some work here and there. Would need proper convincing to shove work aside – but it’s not impossible. It’s hard to resist snuggles with your partner when you’re hella tired.

Will whip out a board game for two. If it’s not strictly a date night will host a game night with the rest of the fam at your place.

[allywthsr]

I‘LL NEVER LEAVE YOU | (l.norris)

part two to Finding Lando on Raya

summary: part two to Finding Lando Norris on Raya, how you spend the evening, flying to Spa for tire testing and a date in the evening

wordcount: 9.8k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT! (p in v, oral, taking pictures while doing it)

notes: sorry for the delay, but I was kinda blocked! The end feels rushed, but I genuinely didn’t know what to write, sorry. Anyway, second smut so be gentle. And thank you for all the positive feedback!!!!❤️‍🩹

”You want to order some McDonald’s and stay over?“

You looked at Lando, how could he be so perfect? Only minutes ago he was buried deep inside of you and now he was a sweet angel.

”Sure!“

He grabbed his phone from his night table and opened Uber Eats.

”What do you wanna eat?“

You named him your go-to McDonald’s order and he chose a chickenburger menu.

”It should come in like twenty minutes. Enough time to repeat what we just did.“

”Let’s eat first, you tired me out, two orgasms are more than men normally become out of a woman.“

”I‘m just a pro, what can I say.“

You shoved his shoulder playfully and he laid down next to you. He opened his arm and you laid your head on his naked shoulder, pulling up the duvet to cover you both. He slowly caressed your shoulder with his fingers.

”So where are you from, Y/N?“

”I was born in Y/H/N and moved to London two years ago for this job. I meet new customers that want to buy some products from us.“

”Do you travel a lot?“

”Not really. Every now and then, yes. But mostly I meet them in London in our office. But tell me, what’s it like being a Formula One driver? Is it as luxury as it always looks like?“

”Sometimes, I mean we get to stay in fancy hotels and whatnot, but it’s hard work as well. The G-forces your whole body has to resist are heavy, so we need to train a lot, I hate it so much, you have no idea. The traveling is also tiring. I hate being away from my family and friends so much, but at the same time, I have more free time than you probably have. But that free time is mostly filled with training, it’s rare I have two weeks off in a row.“

”I get that, but it’s still your hobby, no? I can imagine that having your hobby as a job is the best thing.“

”That’s true, but I don’t know, I‘m super happy and grateful to be where I am but at the same time, sometimes I‘d like to have more privacy. It’s always dangerous for me to hit up women because they could always post it on social media and I‘m the asshole you know. Or when I’m in Monaco, I can’t go out with a woman, she‘s immediately my girlfriend. My cousin once visited me and she got death threats afterwards. That’s not nice. But it comes with being a ’celebrity‘ I guess.“

When he said celebrity he did quotation marks in the air.

”So you meet up with a lot of women?“, you asked him jokingly.

”I poured my heart out and that’s the only thing that stuck in your pretty head?“, he let out a laugh.

”But don’t worry, I never had such a pretty and nice girl before, you‘re truly special. Not one of them wanted to eat McDonald’s with me, claiming they‘re gonna be fat afterwards.“

”Don’t worry, I was just kidding. I can’t say I know what you’re feeling, because I don’t. I can wander through London and no one asks me for a picture, but I imagine it to be hard. Having no privacy I mean. But if you ever want to talk, you know who to call. And whoever turns down a free McDonald’s meal is just stupid. Especially if you have such a hot man next to you.“

You put your hand on his chin, caressing it, where a slight stubble grew.

”I actually don’t know who to call, I don’t even have your number yet. I’ve been inside of you and don’t even know what your profile picture looks like.“

You smiled up at him and chuckled.

”We can change that later, I‘m too comfortable right now“, you pressed a kiss on his neck.

”You said something about Pirelli tire testing earlier?“

”Yeah, tomorrow in Spa. I drive around the circuit in different cars and my F1 car, testing possible new tires.“

”Oh really? That’s fun.“

”You should come.“

”Isn’t that something only people from the team can attend?“

”You can sit in my garage, that’s fine.“

”Lando we barely know each other.“

”And? I like you, I think that you like me. Come as a friend, I won’t say you’re my fuck friend.“

You chuckled at that. But should you? What if people see you somewhere because someone posts it and you get the same treatment his cousin got?

”Won’t there be paparazzi?“

”No, at least not that I know of. It’s only an event for included people, it’s not even publicly announced.“

”But still, won’t it be weird?“

”Let’s get to know each other then, I won’t be weird.“

”Are you sure? I‘m just the girl you fucked because you needed it.“

”Y/N, you’re a human, not an object I am using. If you wouldn’t have stuck out to me, I wouldn’t have liked you. I would’ve never texted you.“

You stayed silent, didn’t know what to answer. Only your hand went to his neck and fondled it, wanting to show your affection somehow.

”What’s your favorite color?“

”Really?“, you chuckled.

”Answer it, then we won’t be strangers anymore and you can come tomorrow.“

”I like a light blue, but it changes. You?“

”I like a neon yellow, like the color on my helmet. Favorite ice cream flavor?“

You told him your favorite ice cream flavor and you asked him the same question.

”Vanilla Ice cream, classic.“

”Favorite Holiday?“

”I love Christmas, I get to spend most time with my family, and also presents. Yours?“

”Must be Christmas as well. I love it when everything is gloomy and stuff.“

”You‘ve ever been on a yacht?“

”No, I’d love to, but I‘m not rich.“

”Want to come with me on holiday?“

”Lando.. it’s the same with tomorrow. I can’t just go on your family holiday with you.“

”Why not?“

”Because I‘m not your girlfriend or something.“

”Want to be my girlfriend?“

You scoffed and sat up, ”You need to calm down.“

”I was just kidding. I‘m leaving in a week, but we still have enough time to get to know each other. Consider it. You‘re different, I can feel it.“

”Let me think about it.“

”Take all the time you need, but I before our flight takes off I need to know.“

”I need to buy a plane ticket then.“

”No, we‘re flying with a private jet, we still have a few seats left.“

”Boujee, I see.“

”I am collaborating with a brand, so I don’t have to pay anything.“

”That’s even more Boujee!“, you laughed.

”Well, we could join the mile hig-”

Before Lando could finish the sentence, it knocked on the door. He jumped out of bed and pulled his Boxershorts, which lay somewhere on the floor up to his hips. When he opened the door, a hotel employee stood in front of it, holding a brown bag.

”Sir, you ordered from McDonalds, is that correct?“

”Yes it is.“

”Then here you go, bon appetit!“

”Cheers!“

Lando closed the door and walked back to the bed, where he sat down and opened the back, giving you your food while he laid his‘ down in front of him.

You took the first bite and moaned: ”I needed this.“

Lando looked at you with a crooked eyebrow.

”What?“, you laughed, ”never saw a woman enjoying her food?“

”I‘ve never seen such a gorgeous naked woman in my bed enjoying her food, no.“

”You‘re a flirt, you know that?“

He only smirked at you and took another bite of his chickenburger, while eating a fries right after.“

”Are you more of a McDonald’s or Nando’s type of girl?“

”I enjoy McDonald’s more, to be honest, I feel like it has a bigger variety of things I eat.“

”Same, if I had to choose my last meal, it would probably be McDonald’s.“

He took a sip of his Sprite and thought about more things to ask you. He wanted to get to know you, it felt like you knew each other for years already, yet it only has been a few hours. He felt super close to you, as if you‘ve been best friends, he wanted you to meet everyone, his family, his friends, and even Zak.

”What’s you’re favorite free time activity?“

”I like hanging with friends or family, I love to play golf and I like gaming. A mixture of all of them. I could never choose my favorite, I also like to photograph, but I barely do it anymore. What’s with you?“

”Well, I like reading, watching sports, or just chill at home. Shopping is great too, I always wanted to watch someone golf professionally.“

”Well, I‘m not a professional baby.“

”But probably more than I am.“

”Alright, when you come with me on holiday, we‘ll play a round of golf.“

”Lando..“

”Come on, it’s gonna be fun! Everyone will love you and you‘ll love them.“

”Let me think about it, okay?“

”I can give you a week, we’re flying from Heathrow, so just text me and join us.“

You took the last bite and thought about it, should you go on vacation with him? What would you tell your family? ’Hey mum, I’m going on a holiday with a stranger I met on a dating app, we fucked and he invited me, I’ll come back in a week!‘ Not so much fun.

”What should I tell my family and friends? I can’t just leave with a stranger on a holiday.“

”Why not? It’s not like we‘re strangers. I’ve been in you thirty minutes ago.“

You scoffed, he was right, but you still didn’t know him at all.

”I still don’t know you.“

”Hi, I‘m Lando Norris, born in Bristol, twenty three years old. I have two smaller sisters and one bigger brother, my parents are together, and together with my sisters they still live in Bristol. My mum is from Belgium, which makes me half Belgian but I can barely speak it. I went to school and went karting, had to re-take my theory driving test, and moved to the higher formula classes on my own accord, not because my dad was rich. I currently live in Monaco because I wanted to do something new. That’s basically everything about me. I live and breathe motor sport, that’s all I have in my life. And now it’s your turn.“

So you did the same, repeating everything he just said, talking about your family, about your passions, your job, and yourself.

”You see? Now we know each other and you can join me for the holiday.“

”Take me out on a date and then maybe.“

”Alright, it’s a deal. Tomorrow after tire testing.“

”Okay.“

You smiled shyly at him, you couldn’t believe you actually said yes to tire testing, but in the end, you only live once and who would turn down a free paddock experience with Lando Norris? Even if it’s tire testing.

”So you‘ll come with me to tire testing tomorrow?“

He got really excited and sat up in the bed.

”Yes Lando, I‘ll come with you.“

”You’re the best!“

With that, he laid himself on top of you and kissed you on the lips, which you returned with a moan. You moved your foot to give him more space and heard a crinkling sound.

”Lando wait, the bag is still on the bed.“

You tried to say in between kisses but he only hummed, clearly already in a headspace where he didn’t care. He distracted you with neck kisses and the bag was long forgotten. He wandered lower with his kisses and stopped at your boobs, sucking your right nipple slightly and licking over the left one when he decided the right one has gotten enough love. With each touch, you gasped, grabbed his hair, and pulled at the strands. You could feel him hardening against your lower stomach and you clasped his shoulders, trying to get closer to him.

”Lando, I need more“, you pressed out.

”More already? God, you’re such a needy little baby.“

He grinned and his hand slipped towards your slit, slowly pushing his pointer finger through your lips. He felt your wetness and moaned at the sensation, he couldn’t believe how wet you were already, he barely touched you.

He pressed his thumb to your clit and slowly circled it, you let out different sounds that made Lando shake, in a good way. He couldn’t wait to be in you again. He inserted two fingers and pumped them slowly in and out, getting faster with every thrust.

”You‘re so wet baby, it’s crazy.“

”All for you Lando, it’s all for you.“

He moaned, kissed your neck, and slightly sucked it, leaving a faint purplish mark. He licked over it to claim his territory once more, tonight you belonged to him and only him, maybe for the next weeks as well. He already loved your company, he didn’t need to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. With you, he could just be Lando even if you just met.

His pumps and circles became faster the louder your moans got, the pleasure you felt was almost unbearable, you wanted to cum but you needed a little more.

”I need more, a bit more“, you pressed out and with that, he added a finger, now you were filled with three fingers and that was what you needed, after a few pumps you came around his fingers with a loud moan, clenching.

”Fuck Lando, you‘re so good at this.“

He smirked and pulled his fingers out of your pussy, looking at them, he pulled them apart and your juices created little strings that connected between his fingers. His eyes focused on your face watching you, as he put his fingers into his mouth, sucking the juices off. With your pussy still sensitive, you felt the next wave of arousal rushing towards your lower area, that was the sexiest thing he did and the way he moaned when he tasted you again, made you go wild.

”I need to be in you again, you have no idea how gorgeous you are.“

”I need you too Lando, I need your dick.“

He laid on his back and removed his underwear he was still wearing from getting the McDonald’s bag earlier, and his dick sprung towards the ceiling. You almost started drooling at the sight. He was perfect, not too long but also not too short, thick enough, and little veins covered his length, making him feel amazing inside of you. With a grunt he positioned himself on top of you, pumping his dick with his hand a few times, getting ready for you. He coated his tip with your juices, by moving his length through your slit and slowly pushed it inside of you.

”You feel fucking amazing, I hope you know that.“

You moaned and pushed his head to yours, pressing your lips on his‘ and sliding your tongue against his lips. He opened them and you fought for dominance, he won but only because you needed to catch a breath, he stole your breath, that’s it.

He deeply looked into your eyes, feeling more connected with him than ever.

With slow movements he began to move, the room getting filled with the dirtiest slapping sounds you could imagine, his thrusts making you feel on cloud nine again, you were so happy you met him, this was way better than sightseeing in Amsterdam. His hand found its way to your clit, rubbing slight circles to get you to your orgasm faster, which worked. You were stimulated by your many orgasms today, you didn’t need much to cum. Just after a few minutes of him thrusting into you and circulating your clit, you came with a loud cry, no one could make you finish like he did. He pulled out of you, and with a pout, you looked at him, how dare he do that, you now felt empty and missed him already.

”I want to cum in your mouth angel.“

With big eyes, you nodded and he got up and sat at the edge of the bed, you followed him suit and sat on your knees in between his legs. His length hit his stomach and you grabbed his dick with both of your hands, you loved how heavy he laid in your hands. With slow movements you started to satisfy him, pumping up and down while you looked through innocent eyes at him. That made him go even more wild in the head and his eyes rolled back, his hands found their way into your hair and he pulled slightly on your strands. You jerked him off and his tip started to leak pre cum, the slight white drops oozed out of his slit and your mouth watered. You opened your mouth and took him in your mouth, you could still taste yourself on his dick and moaned at the taste, the vibrations made him moan. Your tongue licked off the pre cum, the salty flavor wasn’t your favorite, but now you tried to get every drop. Lando guided your head a bit with the up and down movements, you couldn’t fit his whole length in your mouth but you tried with every stroke to fit more. You almost had it, but when you wanted to take the last bit, his soft tip reached your throat and triggered the gag reflex, you tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t.

With that, you pulled back to give yourself a second to breathe.

”Fuck, look at you. Eyes watery, makeup smudged, spit leaking out of your mouth, you look so fucking sexy.“

You grinned and darted your tongue out, licking a long stripe from bottom to top from his dick and with a swift move, you had him in your mouth again, but now only what fitted in without gagging again, jerking the rest of his dick with your hand.

”Such a good girl, fuck baby.“

His moans got louder and you could feel his member starting to twitch, you removed him out of your mouth and just jerked him on your tongue, and before he could warn you, his cum shot into your mouth, painting your tongue white. You looked up at him and he looked like a Greek god, his muscles prominent, head in his neck, and his eyes rolled back. You stroked him until he came back down and looked at you with a big smile, now you swallowed his cum while letting him watch you.

”You are something else darling, fuck. You look so pretty like this. Fucked out. Come here, I need to feel you close.“

With that he shuffled back and leaned with his back against the headboard of the bed, patting his legs, symbolizing you to sit down in his lap. And you did just that, you swung your leg over his leg and sat down, feeling his now soft dick against your pussy. This time there were no sexy feelings involved, you just went in for a hug, also needing the cuddle session you two had going on.

”Do you want to go and pee real quick? Then we can continue our cuddles, I just don’t want you to get sick.“

With a smile, you nodded and he helped you getting up from the bed, with an extra sway to your hips you went to the en-suite and did your thing, coming cleaned up back to see him looking comfy under the covers. You went to the living room where you first sat on the couch today and saw both of your phones laying on the table, you took them both in your hands and returned to Lando. He opened the blanket he was laying under and you slipped in, immediately you were pulled towards Lando, settling into his body nicely.

”You are really comfy, you know that?“, you said to him, he was the perfect mixture of trained but cuddly.

”You know that you are fucking gorgeous?“

You chuckled and gave him his phone you had in your hand.

”So we can exchange numbers.“

With that you opened yours and clicked onto the contact app, creating a new contact with the name ’Lan <3‘ and giving him your phone, at the same time he gave you his phone to save your number. When you saw the contact name you let out a quiet laugh, he saved you as ’Chicken nugget❤️‘.

”Chicken Nugget? Really?“, you laughed.

”Yes, the way you ate the chicken nugget earlier was super sexy. And also you are a chicken nugget. Small, the outside crunchy and perfect, the inside soft, and the taste perfect in general.“

You shook your head while laughing.

”The inside soft?“

”I could only feel you with my dick but you felt really soft.“

With that, he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked at you. You slapped his chest lightly and smiled, he‘s such a goofball, you were glad you met up with him.

You exchanged phones again after putting in your numbers and put them on the bedside table, wanting to feel close and you didn’t need your phone for that.

”So Y/N, tell me, do you meet up with random guys often?“

”Not really, I went on a couple of dates with guys, but nothing more, one or two led to a one night stand but I left as soon as we were done, no need to stay. They all didn’t treat me right, too much in their own head, only talking about themselves. What about you? Do you hit up girls often?“

”Sometimes, but the most girls only come to get a picture with me or to kiss me, you know, to brag about it on the internet or something. I rarely go on a date with a girl that is not interested in Lando Norris but in Lando. I‘m glad I found you, it feels like we have a different connection.“

”I feel the same, you know. It feels like we‘ve known each other for years already. And by the way, I‘m interested in you. Not Lando Norris the racing driver but the boy Lando, that lives in Monaco and loves spending time with his friend.“

He just smiled at you and kissed your forehead.

”I‘m happy you agreed to meeting me, I just wanted a quick fuck but I’m not gonna let you go now. I want to take you on actual dates and get to know you. I will schedule something for tomorrow night, yeah? After tire testing.“

”I‘d love that Lan.“

With that, he kissed your nose and you closed your eyes, kissing his chest.

”What do you want? Italien or something else?“

”Italien sounds good. Thank you.“

”I‘m gonna make a quick call.“

With that he got up, grabbed his phone, and went to another room to call a restaurant or something, you didn’t know. But with that short time, you grabbed your own phone and looked at the notifications, some from Instagram and other socials, and messages from friends and family. Your best friend's messages stuck out to you.

He returned, still naked and with his phone in his hand.

”We have a reservation at 7:00 pm tomorrow, wear something nice.“

”We have to get my stuff tomorrow before we go. When do we even leave and how? Spa isn’t exactly around the corner.“

”The helicopter takes off tomorrow at 11:00 am. That’s the easiest and fastest way. We can go to your hotel before we leave for the airport and gather your stuff, don’t worry.“

”And it’s really okay I‘m coming with you?“

”Yes baby, don’t worry. I invited you. What do they wanna do? Kick you out? Then I‘m out as well.“

”Okay“, you sweetly smiled at him and opened your arms. ”But now come cuddle again.“

He did just that, falling into your arms, and now he was the one settling on your chest, hugging you and you closed your arms behind his back as well. His arm reached for the nightstand, where he placed his phone and grabbed the remote control for the room. He pressed the button to close the curtain and then he turned on the lights, dimming them to create a nice atmosphere. Lando put the remote back on the table and caressed your side, which tickled slightly.

”What’s your favorite position?“

”Lando!“

”What? I need to know, this won’t be the last time I was in you“, he let out a laugh.

You giggled.

”Well, I like good old missionary. It’s underrated I think. Everybody is always saying that it’s boring, but is it too much to ask for that I want to look my partner in the eye or kiss him? But I also like speed bump, something where you are close to the other. If it’s just a one night stand I wouldn’t mind doggy. What about you?“

”I can only agree with you, I like missionary as well, I want to feel close to my girl or else I don’t need to have sex with her. As you said, a one night stand is a different story. But I also think that I‘m open to new things. I’d rather try out new stuff with my girlfriend rather than a stranger.“

”So I‘m not a one night stand to you? We fucked twice and it was only missionary. Technically I‘m a stranger to you.“

”But it doesn’t feel that way you know? As soon as you stepped through that door it was like meeting an old friend, I felt comfortable. And during sex, I just wanted to be close to you, hold and kiss you“, with that he left a kiss on your chest.

”You’re pretty sweet you know that?“

”How can I not when you’re around?“

You just smiled and combed your hands through his hair, enjoying the silence. After a while of just listening to each other's breaths you wondered what time it was, so you grabbed your phone and it was already 10:42 pm.

”Would you mind if I would get ready for bed? I‘m kinda knackered.“

”Go for it, I‘ll join you, I have to brush my teeth as well.“

With that, you both got up and you pulled your stuff out of your bag, putting the charger next to the bed and you took your toothbrush and your makeup remover with you to the bathroom, where you saw a through his phone scrolling Lando. When you walked in, he locked his phone and looked at you, smiling.

”I just asked Zak if it would be okay for you to come and he agreed, so you won’t be a bother tomorrow.“

”That’s nice, I‘ll thank him tomorrow.“

You both stood in front of the sink and you brushed your teeth together.

”It feels like we’re a married couple, brushing our teeth together“, Lando mumbled due to the foam that formed in his mouth.

You just nodded and noticed how true that was, it felt like a routine how you brushed your teeth together. When he spit the foam out and washed his mouth and face, he left with a kiss on the back of your head and the words: ”I‘ll wait for you on the bed.“

You took your makeup remover and removed everything you had applied to your face earlier, you indeed looked fucked out, smudged eyeliner and mascara, concealer that wore off due to you crying when you choked on his dick. You were a mess. So when your face was Makeup free and cleaned up, you returned to Lando in the bedroom, still naked by the way.

”Can I lend a T-shirt? I forgot to pack an extra.“

”Sure, you can grab the one I wore today, I swear I didn’t sweat in it.“

With a smile you looked for it and found it on the floor, you took it in your hands and pulled it over your head, secretly inhaling his scent that lingered on his T-shirt.

”You look cute in my stuff.“

You blushed and laid down next to him, plugging the charger in your phone.

”When is your alarm ringing?“, you asked, needing enough time to gather everything from your hotel room before taking off to spa.

”I think like 8:30 am? It’s pretty early but like that, you have enough time for packing your stuff in your hotel. I think it’s easier if I pack everything here and then we go together to yours. That way we won’t have to drive multiple times to our hotels.“

You nodded and cuddled into his side. He let his fingers slip through your hair, caressing it.

”Can I braid your hair?“

”What?“, you sat up.

”I want to braid your hair, I always saw my sister do it but I never was allowed to try it on their hair, they always said I would tangle it.“

”Do you even know how to braid hair?“

”Kind of? My ex girlfriend always asked me to do it but I never wanted to, but your hair is so gorgeous.“

You blushed at the compliment, he didn’t want to braid his model ex girlfriends hair but yours? Your hair hasn’t been braided in ages, it would be nice to feel that feeling again.

”Sure, it would be fun. I need to get my hairbrush first, they’re kinda tangled.“

You got up and went to your bag, where you kept a small hairbrush for emergencies. You quickly but carefully brushed your hair and sat on the bed, where Lando already waited for you.

”Three strands, and then just put one over the other, right?“

”Yeah, like that. Do you know in which order to put the strands over the other?“

”I think so, I‘ll just try it out.“

With that he combed through your hair with his fingers and created three strands, gently putting the right one over the middle one, repeating it with the left one.

”Can you pull it a bit tighter? That way it won’t be that loose.“

Before you could end your sentence he already pulled it a bit harder, now it looked better, he thought. He kept on braiding your hair until he came to the end.

”Do you have a hair tie?“

You grabbed one that hung around your wrist and gave it to him, feeling how he tightened it around your hair.

This moment felt so intimate, you found it hard to believe, you just met today. This was soulmate behavior, you got along perfectly.

”I think it’s decent.“

With that, you turned around a saw a smiling Lando.

”Wait let me take a picture of you.“

You blushed and mumbled an ’okay‘. He got his fancy photography camera out and instructed you to lie down.

”Lay down on your front, that way your face won’t be visible, just your hair and I can put it up on my jpg side.“

”You want me to be on there?“

”Sure, you’re a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful personality.“

”You’re a simp.“

”That’s not what you called me earlier tho.“

A grin slid across your face, when you thought about that moment. He wasn’t a simp when he was buried deep inside of you, that’s true. But the thought of you being on his jpg side gave you butterflies in your stomach, that meant you were a little special to him, you‘ve never seen a girl on there.

So you did just what he asked you to, laying down on your stomach, he made sure you could see your braid and you heard the camera click, indicating he took a picture. He took a few more pictures and then tapped your shoulder to tell you he was finished.

”Let me see!“

With that, he clicked on a button and the pictures he took appeared, it didn’t even look stupid, like a good Pinterest inspo even.

”You’re actually good at it. The braid looks good too!“

”Thank you love, but how can it be ugly when the muse is perfect?“

You pushed his chest and he fell down on the bed, the camera still in his hand. So before you could react he took a picture of you sitting on the bed on your knees and you let out a scream.

”What are you doing? I don’t look good, I‘m not even wearing makeup.“

”You don’t need makeup, you’re gorgeous without it, and I want to have a beautiful picture of you, is that too much to ask for? Pose for me baby.“

You let out a laugh and you heard the camera click. Next, you squeezed your cheeks with your hands, creating a little pout. Now he got up and put his left hand on your right cheek, cupping it gently, camera now full in your face, click. His thumb on your lips, click. You opened your mouth and sucked on his thumb, click. He put the camera away and removed his thumb from your mouth, pressing his lips on yours, his tongue entered your mouth and you fought for dominance.

”Baby you taste so good“, he whispered in between kisses.

A whimper left your mouth and you kissed him ever more, the more kisses that passed the filthier they got, creating loud smacking noises every time they met.

”I need you“, you moaned.

”You have me.“

You looked into his eyes and they got darker, now a lusty dark green. The excitement was very present in your pussy, due to you not wearing panties, you could feel your wetness forming and slowly dripping down.

”I want you out of my T-shirt and then I want to take a picture. Is that alright with you?“

You moaned at the thought of him taking pictures of you doing the deed. So the only thing you could do was nod your head.

”Words, baby, I need words.“

”Yes, Lando.“

”Good girl.“

With that, he pulled your T-shirt up and tossed it over his shoulder somewhere in the bedroom. He cupped your breast and kissed you. Taking the camera in his hand, while still cupping your boob, you heard the camera doing a click sound. Fuck this is so filthy.

”Look into the camera.“

You did what he asked you to, hearing a moan from him when you did.

”Fuck baby, you’re so hot and sexy, I hope you know it.“

He squeezed your nipple and let go of his camera, fumbling with his underwear, struggling to get it off. When he finally did, his cock sprung towards the ceiling, obviously being turned on by the filthy things you were doing. You laid on your back and spread your legs, he now got a good vision of your glistening pussy. Taking the camera back into his hand, he took a picture of you laying like that, and another of his thumb brushing through your pussy lips, collecting the juices you created again.

The room was filled with click sounds from the camera and your moans or heavy breathing. The sexual tension was almost unbearable in the room.

He now took his cock in his hand and smeared your wetness, that lingered on his thumb, on the tip of his cock, prepping it. Sliding into you, was one of his favorite things already. You could hear the camera click, taking pictures of his dick shoved inside of you, you couldn’t wait to see the pictures. He threw the camera to the side and now concentrated fully on you, moving in and out of you. With each thrust, you both came closer to your orgasm and when he circled your clit with his fingers, you were done for. Quickly he grabbed his camera and could take a picture of your face when you reached your climax. Eyes rolling back, mouth slightly open, and quiet little moans escaped your lips. Shortly after he pulled out and finished on your stomach, he rolled off of you and calmed down next to you. You wanted to clean his cum off of your tummy, when he let out a loud: ”No! I want to take a picture, give me a minute.“

You laughed and waited for him to recover, he snapped the picture and you got up and went into the bathroom, cleaning the mess up with toilet paper. Returning, you pulled the T-shirt from Lando over your head again and laid down, you were tired out from all the sport you did today. Lando also looked like he was tired out, ready to sleep.

”But now, let’s actually go and sleep, it’s late and we have to get up early tomorrow.“

You nodded and turned to lay on your side, facing Lando. He did the same, after turning off the light with the remote that laid on his bedside table and you both looked the other in the eye. Eventually, Lando pulled you close and you cuddled, until you both fell asleep in the other's arms.

—————————————————————————

The next morning you woke up lying on your back, with Lando lying on his side, facing you. The brown haired boy was still fast asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. You took a deep breath, smelling Lando everywhere, it was like taking a bath in his smell, a bath that you never wanted to get out of. Turning around, you looked for your phone, tapping the screen gently it showed 7:49 am, great, you had another fifty minutes of sleep and you weren’t even tired. With that you turned around again, showing your back to Lando and shuffling close to him. When your back met his chest, he laid his arm around you, even in his sleep he wanted to be as close as possible.

You did fall asleep eventually, Lando’s scent lulling you back to sleep. But a loud beeping sound woke you up again, after what felt like two minutes of sleep. You groaned and pressed your back more into Lando, who let out the same sound as you did. He turned his body to snooze his alarm and cuddled back into you. With you being pressed tightly against him, you could feel something hard pressing in your lower back, you didn’t need long to figure out what it was. You wanted to tease him a little and wiggled around, acting like you tried to get comfortable.

”If you don’t stop, we‘ll not make it today“, he growled. Letting out a chuckle you stopped and turned to face him. When you looked into his eyes you let out a: ”Good morning.“

”Morning baby. How did you sleep?“

”Very good, thank you.“

”We sadly don’t have all day in bed, we need to get up in like thirty minutes, I need to pack everything, we go to your hotel, pack everything, and then we leave for the airport at 10:30 am, where we take off at 11:00 am.“

”Okay.“

You put your hand on his cheek and stroked it.

”You are very handsome, you know that?“

”Not as gorgeous as you are, tho.“

You smiled and pecked his lips, letting your thumb glide over his eyebrow. You both were startled by the loud ringing of his alarm, he ended it and clicked on a button on his remote control to open the blinds and let more light in. He laid down on his back and opened his arm to come closer to him. And you did just that, cuddling to his side and stroking his bare upper body, slowly but surely your hand wandered lower to where his dick was.

”Baby I swear, if you don’t stop, we‘ll never leave.“

”I can give you a handie or a blowie, I won’t need thirty minutes for that.“

”But it’s only a morning boner, he‘ll go away soon. And I don’t want our relationship to be built on lust you know? I genuinely like you, and not only because you are fricking hot and you give good blowjobs.“

”I really like you too, you know. And I don’t want it either, but a boner is a boner and it would be a shame to waste it.“

You looked up at him and blinked in a flirty way. When he didn’t protest, you positioned yourself on top of him and freed his dick, which sprung towards you when he did. Saliva formed in your mouth at the sight, you didn’t waste any time and got to work, spitting on your hand, wetting it to gently jerk him off. When you touched him he let out a moan, you were some kind of magician, he was sure, a handjob never felt better. After you got him fully hard with your hand, you put your mouth on him, swirling your tongue around the head and helping with your hand on the rest that didn’t fit in your mouth. The louder his moans got, the closer he was to a release, you wanted him to cum, so when you cupped his balls and slightly tickled them he came with a loud moan, painting the insides of your mouth white. You swallowed like the pro you are and came back up to him, laying down on top of him. His arms closed behind your back and he kissed your nose.

”You’re incredible, you know that? Not only a gorgeous soul but also incredibly good at giving blowjobs.“

You both laughed and he gave you another kiss on the forehead.

”We need to get up, or else we will be late. Breakfast is at the circuit, is that okay or do you want to order something from the hotel restaurant?“

”I‘m good, don’t worry.“

With that, you got up and Lando followed you into the bathroom where you brushed your teeth, hair, washed your face, and got dressed in the sweats and T-shirt you had on yesterday. You didn’t bring any makeup with you, so you had to go barefaced for now, but that wasn’t a problem. You packed your stuff in your bag, which you brought and sat back on the bed after asking Lando at least five times if you could help him pack, which was five times denied, Lando scattered his stuff in his suitcase. In between you went, folded the clothes, and packed them back neatly, as well as sorted out everything else so they would fit and it would have a system. After twenty minutes he claimed he had everything and when you reminded him of the bathroom he rushed there and gathered everything. You could only shake your head at the way his brain wasn’t fully working in the morning, but in a cute way.

So when he was finally finished and zipped his suitcase, he said: ”You didn’t need to do that for me you know? I appreciate it anyway, thank you love.“ And he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way to the lobby and then outside, hopping in one of the many taxis that waited outside. Lando named the driver your hotel address and paid him generously after arriving. Both of you went up to your room and you started with doing a light makeup for the day, you didn’t want to look too caked up but a little bit never hurt anyone. You also changed into something fancier and looked not too much. Lando chilled on your bed just like you did in his room minutes prior. When you had everything packed, it was 10:28 am, just like Lando said, you had to leave for the airport at 10:30 am.

”I‘m done!“ and with that he got off the bed and took both of your suitcases in his hand, rolling them behind him.

”You do know that I can take my suitcase as well, you don’t need to.“

”But I want to, I wish I had another hand to hold yours but sadly I don’t.“

You smiled and went to the lobby where you again, hopped in a taxi that brought you to the airport. Due to traffic, you arrived at 10:49 am, giving you only ten minutes until the helicopter was to start.

”Lando, why are you so slow? We need to catch it.“

”Will you calm down? I don’t think the helicopter, that is specifically rented for me, will take off without me“, he laughed and when you thought about it, it did make sense, now you could only laugh after slowing down as well. When you arrived at the VIP check in, you were taken to the place where the helicopters were, one guy loaded both of your stuff in the back and another guy showed you what and what not to do on a helicopter, just a safety check. And when you finally sat in it, with your headphones on, you got butterflies. You were really doing this, going to spa with a boy you met the day before. He could easily kidnap you now, nobody would know, well your best friend would know. You had faith that he wouldn’t do such thing and before you knew it, you took off and flew through the air to another country.

The flight was fun, you and Lando talked without a break and took funny pictures, but only selfies this time. Which reminded you, that you haven’t had a look at the ones you took yesterday evening. So when you landed, a car picked you up and drove you to the circuit, the butterflies only intensifying now. You were about to meet people that were holy to Lando, what would he say? Would he introduce you? And if yes, as what? Girlfriend? No, you guys aren’t together. As a friend? Technically you weren’t even friends. As the girl, he chatted up on Raya and took her to spa because she‘s a good fuck? No, he couldn’t. But you reached the circuit before you could think about it more, the door opened, Lando got out and held his hand out to you to help you get out. You took it gladly and hopped out of the car, you thought he would now release his hand, but no. He kept yours in a tight grip when he started walking toward the entrance. You followed him and smiled. Holding his hand was a good feeling, you felt protected and safe, especially in this new surroundings. Walking towards the McLaren hospitality, you now were shaking with nerves, you didn’t even know why. Meeting new people always made you feel this way.

”Are you okay?“

”Yes, Lan. I‘m just nervous. Meeting your people and all that.“

”Don’t be, they‘ll love you. I spend a lot of time with them and I know how they are, you will love them too, they’re just like me.“

”Just don’t leave me alone for the first ten minutes please.“

”I‘ll never leave you, darling.“

With that, you entered the building and you were met with a lot of people. He immediately greeted everyone that came up to him to say hi, he even took a few minutes to chat with them. So when you made your way to the offices of Zak and Andrea, you were shaking again.

”Relax love, there are barely any people here. It’s not a race weekend, only tire testing with Pirelli.“

”Barely any people? Lando that place was filled with humans!“

”Yeah, but don’t worry, the garage won’t be as filled.“

You reached the offices and Lando knocked on a door, when the door opened you were met with Andrea.

”Morning Andrea! I just wanted to let you know that Y/N will be joining me today, I spoke with Zak and he said it wouldn’t be a problem.“

”Of course not! Welcome Y/N! How are you?“

”Thank you, I‘m good, a bit nervous, it’s a lot to take in.“

”Yeah I get it! Why weren’t you there on the weekend? You missed a good weekend!“

”Well I uhm“, you looked at Lando for help, what should you say?

”She wasn’t free so I took her today, I wanted her to see what I do“, Lando said for you.

”What a shame! Maybe you can come to a race after the summer break, it’s way better than just tire testing.“

”I‘d love to, thank you.“

With that, he said his goodbyes and went back to work, and Lando was already knocking on the other door, which belonged to Zak.

He opened the door and was met with the same smile Andrea had.

”You must be Y/N! It’s nice to meet you.“

”Thank you for letting me come. It’s also nice to meet you!“

”Ah don’t worry, Lando always has free spots for a plus one. What exactly are you to Lando? I’ve never seen or heard about you before, no offense.“

”None taken, uhm I‘m uhm, a friend of Lando’s?“

You wanted to sound confident but it came out more like a question, because you really didn’t know what you were.

”Yeah exactly, she‘s a good friend and we met in Amsterdam, I figured why not bring her you know.“

”I get it, I get it, well have fun Y/N. Maybe we‘ll see each other again.“

”Thank you, I hope so too.“

You squeezed Lando’s hand and he said his goodbyes as well and pulled you to his drivers' room.

”Wasn’t that bad, was it?“

”It was fine, yes.“

”Come on, meeting the guys will be easier.“

Due to the rain, he pulled a rain jacket over his hoodie and gave you one as well. You pulled it over and it was too big on you, but you loved an oversized look. So you went to the garage where people stood and worked a little on the car, just cleaning the remainders from the weekend.

”Guys this is Y/N, my uhm friend.“

Lando did the rounds with you and introduced you to everyone. They were lovely, they all welcomed you with open arms and made you feel comfortable. When it was time for Lando to make his way around the track, you had no trouble with staying with the crew and chatting.

It did get uncomfortable when one of his mechanics asked how the two of you met, but you said online, and judging by their looks, they understood what you meant.

After two hours Lando was done, he had already done his meetings and now was fully released for his summer break. He, again, took your hand and held it until you walked to the car, picking you up to drive to a hotel. You thought he would let go of your hand once you were in the car, but you were wrong. He held it even when you sat next to each other, talking and getting to know each other.

When you arrived at the hotel, Lando checked you in and you both went up to the room. It was a rather small room, but enough for one night. It now was 4:00 pm and you still had three hours until the date with Lando. Lando removed his shoes and jumped onto the bed.

”It’s bouncy, the last bed was hard, what do you think is better?“

”I think hard, when you fuck me, the whole bed will shake.“

He smirked and patted the space next to him, on which you laid down. When you cuddled into his side you noticed you tired you actually were, you didn’t catch much sleep during the week due to you working late and having to get up early, and last night, Lando kept you up for most of it. You needed a nap, and when you looked Lando into his eyes, you noticed that he felt the same.

”Should we take a nap? I‘m fucking tired.“

You nodded with your head, ”I was about to say the same actually.“

You both removed the denim you had on and now laid down on the bed again, cuddling under the blanket. You were glad he texted you, it felt like he was the best company ever and you only met him a day ago.

Two hours later you woke up, feeling completely out of this world, you needed a few minutes to figure out who and where you were. When you saw Lando being asleep, you thought about waking him up. After all the date would start in an hour but did he need that much time for getting ready? You doubt it.

So with that you got up and started to do a little heavier makeup look, nothing bad, just a touch up and the eyeshadow got a shade darker. You picked out the clothing for later and after thirty minutes it was time to wake Lando. With your hand on his shoulder, you started to quietly shake him.

”Lando, baby, wake up. It’s almost time for us to leave.“

You felt him stir and look at you with the same expression you had earlier, he clearly was somewhere else, so you laid down next to him and let him wake up in peace. After five more minutes, he finally came back and started getting ready as well. When he saw you in your outfit, you just put on, he couldn’t help himself but stare. He‘d never seen such a beautiful girl.

”You look fantastic baby.“

You could only blush.

The restaurant he chose was only a five minute walk, so you didn’t need to catch a taxi.

At 6:50 pm you left the hotel and made your way to the restaurant, Lando held your hand and you couldn’t feel more safe than now. It didn’t even bother you, when you passed a group of young men, which normally would have freaked you out.

When you arrived, the nice lady showed you to your table, it was in a more secluded area, where you two could have some privacy. Sitting down, the waiter came and took your drink order, after a few seconds you both settled for a fruity cocktail. The pizzeria wasn’t as filled with people as you had thought and you were thankful for it. You skipped through the menu while talking with Lando, he couldn’t choose either, too many yummy things were listed, and you eventually both settled on pizza. You could never go wrong with a pizza, could you?

You liked how easy things were with Lando, you never had a silent minute, and you were always talking about something. Learning new things from the other with every word. He was such a goofball, always making you laugh and giggle, as well as he was a gentleman, paying for the meal and helping you with your chair. He complimented you with everything you did.

When the pizzas arrived you only stopped talking, when the mouth was full, otherwise, you talked about your future plans, family, your jobs, hobbies, and whatnot. You couldn’t remember anymore, it was so natural at this point, that it felt like your hundreds date.

Lando ordered the bill and paid the meal, not listening to your protests of wanting to help him with that, he only gave you a stern look, but in a funny way. When you made your way out of the restaurant and into a park that was nearby, Lando wanted to ask you a question, he had on his mind the whole day.

”So will you come with me and my family on holiday?“

part three

[taintandviolent]

Devil's Favours - James March x Reader

summary & wordcount: 4.9K! originally chosen as the party favour for James' Devil's Night celebration, reader is quickly snatched away by James March, who would rather have his own fun with her than let the others kill her.

w a r n i n g s: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! dark fic, dub-con, slight non-con, conflicted reader, sexual confusion, mild gore & blood, graphic descriptions, violence, aggression, bodily fluids, mentions of other real serial killers, smut, rough sex,overstimulation, body worship (reader with greek goddess body type), murder, reader death.

a/n: sorry for this, I'm mentally unwell. not beta read, so if it's horrid and clunky, I'm sorry!!! also, I think this is the last taglist I'll be doing, RIP. It's just such a pain in the rear end, and half the time, it doesn't even work.

full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /

After a long day of travelling, sleep was the only thing on your mind. That said, you were in desperate need of a bath, something relaxing. This was, afterall, a vacation. You twisted the ceramic knob on the hot water, and stuck your hand under it. With a hiss, you withdrew your hand – usually, water took a minute to reach temperature. This one? Scalding hot within a few seconds. Dangerously so. You twisted the knob on the cold side, evening them out until they’d reached a less skin-melting combination, and shed your clothes. You’d only been in there for thirty minutes or so before someone began rapping their knuckles against your door. Persistently. Very persistently.

“Just a minute!” you called from the bathroom, hoping your voice travelled. You reached for one of the towels – meticulously embroidered with the hotel’s logo – and wrapped it hurriedly around your torso. “Hang on!” 

Quickly rummaging around in your suitcase and swearing under your breath that you had packed more, you searched for something to wear. Feeling pressured and running out of time, you settled on a cream coloured silk slip. Hardly modest with your plenteous figure, but the knocking continued and that seemed more important than decency. You hurried to the door, yanking it open with an air of annoyance. The vexation melted away when you were met with a man who looked more like he belonged on a silver screen than he did standing in front of you.

“Good evening.” He said, dipping his head down in a courteous display.

“…Can I help you?”

His lips stayed together, but curved into a subtle smirk. Though it was an unintentional pick; he’d chosen well; your delectable form was as if it was carved by Gods themselves. The look in your eyes told him that you were so alive, so vivacious that any bloodshed that would happen would be akin to art. His eyes were immediately lost on you, exploring your body and face with a fervid fascination. Feeling exposed, you pulled at the silken straps, bringing the neckline of the nightgown higher up on your body. Your cleavage protested, the fabric puckering across the voluminosity of your breasts. 

All this time, he’d been silent, and you arched an expectant brow, wondering just what it was that you were to help him with. This man was… peculiar. From his fancy dressage to the articulate, over-pronounced way he spoke, his idiosyncrasies both alarmed and fascinated you. 

“Indeed,” he affirmed. He’d made his decision; you were the one for the night. And he’d have you, whether you came willingly or not.

“My name is James March — I’m the owner of this impressive hotel in which you now stand.” He paused, expectantly as if that was enough for you to throw your arms up and consent to whatever he was asking. When you didn’t, he added: “I need you to come with me. Urgently.”

You squinted, scanning his motivations. A warm, gentle smile stretched across his lips, framed by his pencil thin mustache. His hand rose, fingers uncurling in front of you. There was something unnervingly come-hither about his gaze. Would he have introduced himself with malicious intentions? Surely not — that could lead to identifying him later on. But he could’ve given you a fake name, perhaps…

Unable to resist his passé seduction and against (likely) better judgement, your hand floated up into his, resting delicately against his palm. His fingers closed around yours, lingering a moment before guiding you out of your room, allowing the heavy door to swing shut behind you. He began leading you briskly down the hallway.

“I forgot my key, wait I –” 

“Worry not, my dear. We’ll have another made for you, should you need it.” 

Should I need it? You thought. Why wouldn’t I need it? Of course I’ll need my key, I’m walking down the hallway in nothing but a nightgown. 

You trodded barefoot down the halls, listening to the sounds as you passed them. The hotel, you noticed, creaked and breathed with a life of its own. Whether the rooms were occupied wasn’t known, but they sounded as if they were.  

As soon as you two got to a door, only a few down from your own, he reached for the handle and instantly, as soon as he did; something felt wrong. Something felt… sinister and the feeling took over like a gelatinous sludge. You tried to yank your hand away but James sternly jerked you the opposite way — back towards him. With a throaty growl, he wrapped both arms around your torso, holding you fast in a steel grip so that try as you might, you couldn’t dislodge yourself from his grasp. His strength proved too much for your feeble, sleepy muscles.

After shouldering the door open, James carried you inside. In a moment of panicked clarity, you tried to peek around and identify anything you could. The stern way that his hand was plastered on your forehead, holding it against his shoulder, you could really only see the ornate ceiling above you.

You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that burned at the corners of your eyes. This was it. You’d gone this far in life without being mugged, raped, or killed… today was the day it would change. Your track record would end. Abruptly. Terrifyingly. Your chest shuddered with an uneven, hysterical breath. At least he was handsome. No, shut up. That’s not the kind of thought you want to be thinking. 

Suddenly, your body dropped forward and you were spun around harshly, his grip still tight on the fleshy meat of your arms. Then, as though he was a lover and not your soon-to-be-murderer, he eased your back against a wooden chair with one hand, delicately, suddenly concerned with hurting you, like you were some kind of easily-bruised fruit.

“Good girl, sit there.”

At his praising words, your core twinged, tightening. No, no. Stop it. Clenching your teeth, you quashed the thought before it went any further.

His right hand snatched something from a nearby table before holding it proudly, stretching it out for you to see; rope. Unconsciously, your head began shaking back and forth. As the realisation sunk in, your heart rate picked up, thudding against your ribcage.

“N-no, no… no please.”

With the rope still in hand, James got to one knee in a familiar pose. His lightless eyes floated up to yours, staring into them deeply. Now in front of you, his cock twitched within his trousers, a carnal instinct tugging like an incessant child. He brushed the pads of his fingers along the smooth curves of your knees, your calves, your ankles… 

Damn. You – obviously – were a woman with needs, so his feather-light touch awoke something deep within your core again. This time though, it didn’t take you reversing the arousal. The shiny tip of his shoe knocked your feet apart, lining them up with the legs of the chair. She clenched harder.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tensely. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He paused to answer, straightening up. “Securing you, my dear. A struggle is inevitable.”

“What!? Inevitable for what?!”

He didn’t answer. Hastily working, his large but nimble hands wrapped the rope around the smallest part of your ankles, knotting the rope against the chair. Your wrists came next, and those were tied much tighter; the fibres of the rope ground against your soft skin, already causing a burning friction.

With a sudden, powerful pull at the bindings, testing their security, James was finished. He was confident in his knotting, you wouldn’t get away. Humming to himself, he dragged the chair through an archway, into another, much larger room. You were facing a table – it was ornately set with a large contraption in the middle. You recognised it as an absinthe fountain, the bright green liquid in the container seemed to glow. You didn’t want to be a part of whatever this was, even as attractive as that man was.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, I just… I want to go back to my room. Let me go.”

“Let you go?” James echoed in a mockingly high tone. He seemed offended that you’d even desire such a thing. It was a pleasure — a privilege — to be invited to his dinners. “No…. You’re staying with me. Right here.”

He pat your thigh  before moving to the head of the table. For the first time since you’d been brought in, you took a moment to look around, to take in your surroundings instead of him. Immediately, you whimpered in disbelief — met with such a visual that you almost immediately thought you were hallucinating. You blinked away the tears and sniffed, pressing your lips tightly together. 

It was truly bone-chilling to see all of the worst eyes on you. The eyes that had seen the most foul crimes and atrocities in human history were now looking at you; the bound beauty with her sweat-soaked strands of hair stuck to your forehead and fear in your eyes. John Wayne Gacy, Richard Ramirez, Jeffrey Dahmer….

“She’s shakin’ like a god damn leaf!” Aileen Wuornos howled, before finishing off the rest of her beer. She slammed it on the table, the clatter made you jump. She doesn’t want me, you thought. I’m not her enemy. Still, you knew that you’d been sat at a table full of people — true monsters — who even if they didn’t want to kill you, they’d take great pleasure in watching you writhe in agony as the others stole your last breath from your lungs.

Though they were all equally terrifying, you were most horrified by Richard. He sat directly next to James, picking absently at his nails. His sunken, snake eyes followed every move you made; watching you with a hunger that made your skin crawl. Considering the circumstances, it was laughable to say that one made you feel unsafer than the others — but he did. Logically, how he preyed upon women must’ve played into your distaste for him. He held your gaze, peering into your thoughts with a vicious lack of consent, as he behaved with every woman he came in contact with. Finally, he spoke.

“I’ve waited long enough, Jimmy — can we kill her?” He said, sucking something out of his rotting teeth. He made a move as though he was going to get up.

You snapped your head to James, brows knit together in pleading. The visual surprised you. He, like the rest of the dinner party, had been staring at you, but instead of the feral, blood hungry gaze you expected, his eyes had gone glassy. He sucked his cheeks in, deep in thought. Beneath the dark fabric of his dress pants, heat blanketed his groin. You captivated him; the way your precious little eyes flitted back and forth in terror like a deer, the way your pulse thrummed in your neck, beating like a drum. He wanted you for his own — and only his own. Keeping his motives hidden, James stood up, smoothing out the fabric of his suit jacket. 

“No,” he crooned. “No, we can’t. I’m afraid I’ve had a change of heart… this one… belongs to me.”

You jerked your head in confusion, while grumbles of disappointment bounced off the walls. Ramirez said something sickening and Gacy let out a horrible, guttural chuckle. You strained against the rope, somehow trying to put more distance between you and them. James sliced his hand through the air to silence them both.

“Miss Wuornos,” he abruptly purred. “Go find us a dashing young man keen to join our party!”

“Ohohoh…. Lil’ ol’ me? Find a man? I’m gonna’ be frolickin’ in the fuckin’ daisy fields with this one. Be back!”

“Pl-please.” You begged. Your lips parted, allowing desperate promises to fall from between them. You wouldn’t tell anyone, you’d never come back here, you wouldn’t remember anything, you promised, you would never speak a word of this to anyone… You looked to James, who regarded you affectionately, but patronisingly, his lower lip jutted out in a faux-pout. He’d heard all this before, and it was of no concern to him. He’d made up his mind. It was his god damned birthday and he was going to have you all to himself.

Your begging fell on seemingly deaf ears, nobody bothered to entertain you. Your teary, burning eyes flitted to Ramirez, who was smiling his ugly, decaying smile at you, leaning forward in his seat. “I dunno’, she promises, Jimmy… maybe we should let her go.”

You shivered, grinding your wrists against the rope. Anger blanketed you. “Fuck off, weirdo.”

“Who you callin’ weirdo, bitch?”

“YOU!” You barked, straining. “I can smell your rancid breath from here. Had to kill all those women just because none of them would ever come within ten fucking feet of you!”

“Now, now… manners. She’s a lively one, isn’t she?” His mouth bent in a proud smirk, James looked to Richard, who was still bristling from the comment. He really wanted to kill you. Delighted at the fact that James had seemingly given you immunity, you wiggled happily in your chair, fighting the urge to stick your tongue out. You didn’t want to test him, though, and so you remained silent, watching instead. 

Silence was broken as the door opened. With a little thrashing, almost as desperate as your own had been, Aileen shoved a man — couldn’t have been more than 30 — inside. It didn’t take her long to find someone. In fact, it was like she opened the door, spotted him meandering by and dragged him back inside.

The guy noticed you first. Second, he noticed that you were tied to the chair so tightly that red marks on your wrists and ankles had begun to develop. Thirdly, he noticed the others, his eyes drifting slowly and visibly disturbed by who sat at the table. 

“Woah… what the fuck is this?” He asked.

“A good fuckin’ time is what it is.” One of them said. You didn’t care which. Blisteringly hot tears streamed down your face, stinging your cheeks. What were the stages of grief? You felt like you were cycling through them in rapid succession.

“Fucking let me go!” You howled, thrashing your torso back and forth, which did little to relieve anything. With a distressed expression plastered upon his face, the guy looked from you to the other guests and back, before nervously putting his hands up, taking one step back towards the door. “Hey, is she okay?”

“N—!“ James was suddenly behind you, cupping his hand over your mouth, pressing the tips of his fingers hard into your cheek flesh. His lips moved quickly, whispering hotly into your ear. “Hush now, don’t spoil the surprise for him. Let him find out on his own.”

“She’s fine, the hors d’oeuvres didn’t agree with her.” Aileen barked, towing the guy towards the table. She shoved him down into the only unoccupied seat.

“Dinner… is served.” James said. 

In unison, they all stood up. The sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in your head. Like syncronised swimmers, they all descended upon him, armed with whatever weapon they’d chosen. You hadn’t known the guy, but he had enough sympathy for you to make you cry at what was happening to him. He’d had a life, family… feelings. None of which mattered to him anymore, or perhaps that’s exactly what he was thinking about. Perhaps your entire life really did flash before your eyes before you died. 

You let out a scream that burned on its way out. It ached and tore and ripped its way up your windpipe as the shrill, bloodcurdling sound filled the room. It was louder than his, and louder than the sounds that were currently coming from the gaping, gargling hole in his throat.

Gacy moved from his side, allowing you a brief glimpse. Torn flesh hung from his shoulders and blood had almost completely covered the front of his body. You closed your eyes and turned your head away, rolling your lips inward and biting down. It was fucked up, and you weren't going to absorb any more of it.

“Sweet dreams, my little pet.” James said, in front of you. You turned your head towards the sound, but were met with blackness. 

A dull throbbing on the side of your head was what eventually pulled you awake, forcing your cinder-block weighted lids to peel apart. You looked around; an odd, minimally decorated room. Dark. Your head wobbled as you turned it left, then right, met with the same visual — your arms suspended high above your head, and rope again, at your wrists. You licked your lips and tasted metal. In your blurred vision, you noticed red flecked along your breasts. The ache on the side of your head was more than just an ache, it seemed.

Your consciousness ebbed, fading in and out. Sleep was comforting, the idea of it cradling you in its arms like a baby. You wanted so badly to sleep… just for a moment. Somewhere inside, you heard authoritative voices, advising against sleep. Concussions… sleep… sleep is bad… keep the individual conscious. And so you fought against the cool, towering shadow, turning your head away from nothing in particular. You couldn’t hear anything outside of your own laboured breathing, and the creak of the rope every time you decided to move. Nothing. Not even the muted voices of the monsters. 

Time meant nothing, you lost track of how long you’d been hanging there when you’d finally heard the creak of a heavy door. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly before wrenching them open. You weren’t sure if the crushing weight you felt was the looming weight of death as it shrouded you, or merely the physical strain of your body being suspended for hours. You knew people could eventually die from suspension. Their lungs caved in or something. The tips of your toes barely touched the floor, your big toe grazing the cold, concrete floor every time your body swayed softly.

With your head hanging between your shoulders, your muscles quivered as you lifted it, just in time to see the door in front of you shut. James, standing in front of it, reached for a black leather apron that hung on a hook. Before slipping it over his head, he flashed you a charming smile, pleased to see that you hadn’t expired yet. Reaching behind him to tie it around his waist, he approached you. The light from the wall sconces reflected against the fabric dully.

“Ah, there you are.” He crooned. 

You intended a scream, but could do nothing but whimper. You swallowed repeatedly, a feeble attempt to wet your dried out throat. James drug a single finger along your soft jawline, trailing it down your neck, and along your collarbone. You were drenched in sweat, streaks of it descending your face and neck.

The sudden ferocity in which he gripped your face made it sting, his thumb and forefinger digging into the bone of your jaw. He quirked a brow. You opened your mouth and although your throat was already raw, you finally screamed. You screamed again, angrily, and held his cold, black gaze. Your ragged shrieks filled the room over and over again as you tried, desperately, to wrench your hands free from the ropes.

Regrettable, James thought as his soulless eyes hungrily took in your form as it quivered and thrashed around. You were built like a Greek goddess, soft curves in all the right places, begging to be touched, worshipped.

“Aaaah,” He exhaled, frustratedly.  “You’re almost too pretty to kill.”

“Then — DON’T! Fucking let me GO! AaaarhhhH!” You yanked at the ropes again, thrashing around until a deep pain in your shoulder began to burn. You cried out, letting your body go slack. 

With a deep breath, you mustered up all your strength again, finding every drop of it within your tired body, and leaned forward to scream directly in his face. The result? He was wholly unphased by your screams. If anything, it seemed like he enjoyed them. Each one sounded a little more desperate than the last, and it only fuelled him further.

You decide to try a new, last-ditch tactic. Sore mouth contorting into a scowl, you gathered a mouthful of saliva and blood, hot and irony on your tongue and lunged forward, spitting it at him. The glob hit him square in the face, dripping slowly down towards his jaw.

“What, is it hard to focus?” You croaked. Your words were slurred, messy with the pain of the head wound.  “Didn’t think you’d want to fuck me as bad as you do, huh?”

James’ dark eyes narrowed, the muscles underneath twitching faintly. He had in fact picked you, and therefore had to accept all of your fiery little quips as they came – but that one… that one had caught him off guard. 

“You…” You narrowed your eyes, the fibres of the rope squeaking as you leaned towards him, your lips inches from his face. “…want to fuck me so bad, you can’t think. Look at you. You think your apron hides it?”

With brows raised, James glanced at his groin. Had he really been betrayed by his own body, so early on? Though he felt the warmth and stiffness increasing between his legs, there was no visual indication. James calmly brought his hand to his face, collecting the bloodied spit on his fingertips. With a reticent gaze, he brought them down between your legs, harshly knuckling the nightgown out of the way.

He smeared them roughly on your cunt. Your own fluids. The ones that you had just spit at him. Not only that, but he proceeded to tease your sensitive nerves with his fingers, pulling a confused gasp from your throat. Part of you had been bluffing, you weren’t entirely sure that he had wanted you —

James pulled back an inch to look at you again. Aside from your luscious body, your complexion was mottled with exhaustion, lips dry with fear, hair frazzled and bloody on one side. To him, it was a horrific sculpture of divinity. One that he had created in such little time with such little effort. The perfect, ample curves of your breasts were dotted with crimson, having dripped from the gash on your head. They jiggled delicately with each desolate shake you gave.

With his free hand, he took hold of your round, plush hips, his thumb working the softness like dough. He swung you towards him, pressing the pillowy tops of your thighs to his groin. Quickly, he identified a growing obsession with your body.

He loved it. All of it. In fact, he hadn’t seen a body as marvellously breathtaking as yours since his wife’s. Of course, it had been many years since he’d seen hers in any such manner, so the flames that licked at his desire were deprived, hungry ones. His mouth found yours, lips crushing against yours. His tongue, hot and strong, slipped in and beckoned yours to engage in an erotic dance.

He pulled your body closer, pressing it tightly against his. Though constricted by his trousers, you felt the bulging heat beneath his apron, and rubbed your thigh against it, teasing him. He groaned deeply in response, bucking his hips against you to force friction. After a few moments, James broke the kiss, panting heavily over your tender, swollen lips.

“Pl-please… don’t kill me… please…”

The back of his hand whipped across your mouth, hitting you so hard that the world sparkled when you opened your eyes again. Your face burned with the contact.

“Enough of that now! Say it again, and I’ll do just that!”

The harshness in his voice stunned you. Up until that point, he’d been using his syrupy, serenading voice — the one he had used to charm you into coming with him. Now, he bellowed, an unexpected violence. Silence hung heavy between you as he waited, baited you to beg for life once more. You didn’t speak again, but your sobs continued. 

Finally, his hand dropped between your legs again. Your clit ached, burned with the way his fingers fondled it, but he didn’t stop. Your poor, exhausted body trembled beneath his touch, doing all it could to express arousal. Salty droplets streamed from your hairline into your eyes, stinging as they absorbed.

“Would you rather die?” he asked, suddenly. 

“Wh-what? N-no… I d-don’t want to die…”

“That’s not what I meant, my little ember. I meant… would you rather die than be pleasured? I, of course, can arrange that.”  

You hesitated a moment, but finally, shook your head. 

At this thoughtful confession, James angled forward, plunging a single finger inside of you, past the knuckle. The digit wiggled inside of you briefly, before sliding back out slowly. He held it up for you both to see. “Oh,” he growled.  

His finger was generously coated in clear slick. Your body had betrayed you. 

Wordlessly, he untied the apron, tossing it carelessly to the side – it hit the floor with a heavy flop. Then, those same nimble fingers began unbuttoning and unzipping, until they gripped his rigidness, pumping it slowly for further stimulation. His chest heaved with wanton, desiring breaths as he stared at you, hanging there, with your warm, ample body for his taking. James lined his dick up with your leaking slit, and pulled you harshly onto his cock, showing no mercy for how exhausted your body was. 

Your cunt swallowed his cock whole, hungrily and desperately. His head fell back between his shoulders, a throaty groan coming from his open mouth. He began thrusting, slow at first. The ease of thrusting fascinated him; your body hung limp on the ropes and all James had to do was tug you forward, tug you in the direction he wanted you to go. 

“You know, I’ve never taken a woman like this before - suspended in the air,” he said, breathily. “Exquisite.” 

You mewled in response, snot dripping from your nose. 

Soon, the room was filled with wet, slick thrusting and the thudding sound of his torso as it met yours. You came repeatedly, coating his thick, pale cock in fluids you didn’t even know your body could make. At one point, during a particularly vicious thrusting, a warm, watery liquid splashed down over your thighs. You screamed like he was killing you, though he felt better than any man you’d ever been with, pleasuring you in ways that left you feeling breathless.

Still, your body persisted with its aches. So far, you’d been successful in appealing to his sexual nature, and decided to try again.

“….please…. Let me down… I’ll… d-do anything you wa—

Suddenly, he backed up, pulling the head from your cunt with a slick pop. You panted; fragile, pitiful breaths, barely enough energy to lift your gaze. With his rigid cock bouncing in front of him, James untied your hands, allowing your heavy, enervated body to fall into his arms. You couldn’t help but cry into his shoulder as he carried you to some sort of surface, laying you carefully down atop it. Some streak of mercy had captured him, and you mouthed words of gratitude. Your entire body buzzed with relief, your muscles aching in a funny, tingling way.

James wasted no time in fucking you again; the tip was nearly scarlet, hungry for release. His hand compressed on your soft stomach, pressing down into it to increase the pressure of his cock as it drove deeper and deeper inside of you.

“You know how this ends, my dear.” When he spoke, it sounded far away. But you did. You knew. There was never any end to this besides the one that you’d envisioned fearfully. He leaned to the side, retrieving a small, but very, very sharp blade from a nearby metal table. You watched numbly as James lifted the knife above your neck.

His hips pumped rhythmically, bringing you both closer to the fiery edge of ecstasy. Pulsing veins massaging your silklike insides, and another orgasm galloped towards you. Your body quivered, cold sweats taking over. 

James whipped the knife across your perfectly warm neck, and instinctively, your hands went to the laceration. Bright crimson gushed out from the spaces between your fingers, and you felt a gushy warmth press against your digits. The inner workings of your throat, you realized. The gore of your own body, pressing back against you in its heat. James laid one hand over yours, seemingly just to feel the blood as it spurted. With a deep, guttural moan, his cock twitched inside you just before it released, coating your insides.

She gasped, a wet gurgle. The light left her eyes, gradually, but beautifully. The pulses of blood eventually ebbed to a dull trickle. As his thrusts slowed, he expelled a long sigh – killing both excited him and depressed him. On one hand; it brought exhilaration, delight and sheer unadulterated arousal. On the other however, you only truly got to do it once. Certainly, you could kill a ghost a million times over, but the effect wasn’t the same.

For a moment, James’ expression contorted into one of regret; when you returned in your new spectral form, you’d likely not want to spend time with him. Yet another woman who loathed his presence roaming the hallways, avoiding him. But perhaps, he still wouldn’t mind having you stuck with him for all eternity, if only to gaze upon your perfect form whenever you’d let him. With matching wounds, at that. A true romantic.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @garykingz / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @babygorewhore / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randominstake / @throwinginmythai / @slvt4jamesmarch / @poltoreveur / @feefymo / @evpeters87 / @lacucarachapisser / @stveharringtn / @fear-is-truth

[r0-boat]

Hi, have you done Bimet's NSFW Alphabet? If not can you make one please 🙏

Heheh Yes I will gladly make a alphabet headcannon post about one of my favorite characters in the game

Bimet NSFW ALPHABET

Cw: NSFW

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You would be surprised that he is very good at aftercare, He will make you feel so loved and cared for when he's done. I'm talking small kisses all over your body, rubbing sore spots on your body; anything you want, he will gladly give you. A soft side of him that he shows to only two people in his entire lifetime.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He will never admit it, But his favorite part about you is your smile. Not one of those fake smiles either, a genuine smile never fails to brighten his otherwise shit tastic day. As much as he doesn't agree the little things that make you smile. As much as he thinks something so ignificant like a bug or a leaf could make you so happy. He can't help but find that a little endearing please never change.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

All demons in Tartaros are pretty possessive, it's part of their greedy nature. Even though he knows and gets off to the fact that you own everything, he can't help but have the urge to mark his territory with his seed. And you are on you he just has this hunger to claim and make sure you stay claimed that must be quelled.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's got pet fantasies, He wants to be your pet, your concubine anything. Desperately willing to worship you. happily wear a nice little collar around his neck. As much as he likes to argue and poke fun at you as soon as those He's alone with you He's on his knees.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he knows what he's doing. He takes great pride in pleasuring you And he strives to be the best fuck you'll ever have anything for you. He'll make you feel like a god, a princess, the most important thing in the world.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that's yours, But if you really have to pick He likes looking at his caught going inside you so as long as he can see His cock disappearing inside You're warm walls He's okay

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is more serious, if you try to be goofy he will just start fucking you harder.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This man probably has a 13 steps skin and hair care so of course he's groomed. He prefers to shave and prepare before having sex with you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

One of the rare times he shows his love and affection for you. He genuinely loves spoiling and taking care of you if only you will allow him to do it. Stop Fighting him and accept his pampering broke dumb bitch!!!

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Never masturbated in his life and never needed to. But that was before you. Now he's... Addicted...You've turned him on so much, who knew sex could be so good! He's supposed to be a demon but you corrupted him now he can't get off without you, almost as good as money... Almost.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Roleplay, of any kind in absolute slut for praise kink and degrading.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere luxurious. My guy will Will make reservations for fancy rooms all across hell just to fuck you in them.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Money and you. Wealthy locations, fancy hotels fancy resorts anything. Especially if you're in nice expensive clothing If he tells you he reserved a night out somewhere he's going to fuck you stupid.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anywhere in bathrooms, in the street, definitely not outside, also don't wear anything stupid that's a turn off as well, )no the Bluey socks will not stay on during sex take them the fuck off...)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Giving and receiving! Perhaps even a little bit of a fixation He will taste you all day if you don't stop him. Your cunt/dick tastes so good! And of course he will be watching every little move you make if you bob your head up and down on his cock. Try not to make you choke on it

Fast rough and wild, fucks you like an animal. Fucks you like This is the first time he has sex because in a way this is the first time he enjoyed sex. He knows he fucks you good no matter how much he pisses you off.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Master at quickies he could make you come so hard so fast. Though he rather have you all to himself instead of resort due quickly hiking your leg up to have you, He's greedy like that.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes he experiments, This is the first time he actually enjoyed sex He is going to make the most of it He's going to get freaky Don't judge him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Pent up demons are not something you want to toy with. He lasts for a fucking long time even by demon standards, And he has a quick recovery too. After 5 rounds he will want more.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, both him and you. He got some expensive ass toys in his collection somewhere. Some he hasn't even used on you yet some you've never even seen. Started buying them after the first time you had sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

That fucker likes to tease like it's his full-time job He wants to hear you beg and sob and squirm. He'll make you say embarrassing things. And record you doing it just for a keepsake. He knows how to get what he wants and he knows just what strings to pull. He knows how to touch you He knows your body and he will play you like an instrument

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The man is loud, growling grunting whimpering moaning you name it talking degrading praising and whimpering your name..

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Threesomes with You and Mammon had happened before They actually happened more often than you think.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Beautiful big thick and long cut cock. Swollen balls

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fucking ridiculous. He just had a taste of you and he is not willing to let you go.

Wraps in armorandy to pull you closer before cuddling up to you giving your forehead a few kisses before drifting off.