#not like he could turn daniel without drinking from him either

[natdeviantrat]

we still haven't seen armand drink on screen, right? (aside from that one reciprocal moment with lestat) there was the cheers with louis but then it cut away and his glass still looked full afterwards. what could they be hiding? i mean surely he does need blood and they told us he hunts for it but?

something something armand always offering his blood never taking, a metaphor for his relationships but also something more? (honestly we saw louis drink from him soo many times like between that and his bloodline no wonder that mofo is powerful enough to challenge a hoard of vampires)

[cherry-leclerc]

all it takes ☆ mv1

genre: humor, fluff, angst

word count: 1k

cherry here!... i know it’s been a while - and i’m sorry! - but i hope a small drabble makes up for it! hope you guys like it!

Where Max doesn’t believe love exists for him until he finds his way to you. 

Often, there would be times where Max wondered if there existed the possibility that something was wrong with him. Unlike him, his friends would fall into loving relationships - marriages, even - and he was just sort of…stuck.

At first, he really couldn’t explain it. He wouldn’t really worry, either. Until one day. 

“Max,” he stutters as he gently shakes your hand. You radiate so much happiness and innocence in life that it had him intrigued. 

It was a Friday night and he had agreed for drinks with Daniel and Checo to celebrate…God…he can’t even remember. He had kept to himself, occasionally jumping into the conversation that flowed between the other two RedBull drivers. 

He hadn’t noticed you; the Australian had. 

“Poor girl. She’s just trying to get a glass of water.”

Angling his head to look back towards the bar, he sees you. The way you keep raising your hand as if you were back in elementary school, waiting to be called on. To be noticed. The way your dress keeps rising up in the process. His breath hitches. 

“She’s fine.”

“Oh. You’re hitting on her!”

“That’s a first,” Checo teases as he takes a sip of whiskey. Max blushes.

“I-I’m not! All I said is that she’ll be fine - she’ll get her drink eventually.”

“It could happen a lot faster if you go over and help her out. C’mon.”

It took a bit of convincing, but reluctantly, he agreed. The Dutch tried to hide his nervousness with a smile. As he got closer, he made sure to wipe his sweaty palms against his jeans. 

“Hi.”

The moment you look up at him. He knew he messed up. 

“Listen, man, I’m not looking for a one night stand, so…shoo.”

Suddenly, he’s reminded of why he never bothers to try. Swiftly, you go back to ignoring him as you pick up on your mission. He narrows his eyes, clearing his throat before slamming his hand down against the shiny wood. 

“Can I get a glass of water, please?”

The bartender nods as he fills one up and slides it to the blue eyed boy before turning back to face greedy customers. Without a single smile, Max just hands it to you before waking off. You frown, bringing up the glass against your lips. 

“So much sexual tension. I could tell from all the way here.” Max flips Daniel off.

“Sexual tension my ass. She was a snarky little-”

“Hi.”

-

“Whoopsie! My bad!” Feverishly, you bend down to pick up Crofty’s microphone as you hurry to hand it back before continuing your run towards the podium. Moments like these would always feel surreal and you can’t help but feel fortunate to be a part of all this. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse m-”

“Can’t you see she’s trying to get through?”

As soon as you make eye contact with the man who makes your world flip upside down, a smile slips onto your lips. Crushing him into a tight hug, you bury your face into his race suit. 

“You did it! You did it! Oh my God-”

“I’m used to it by now.”

You narrow your eyes at him as you lightly slap his chest. “Don’t do that, Emilian.” Heat rushes up to the Dutch’s cheeks as he looks around to see if anyone overheard. And there’s just no way the attention wouldn’t be on him. A Championship is all it takes.

“Oke, oke, that’s enough.” He lowers himself to whisper into your ear. “Do I get a prize or something like that?” 

“We’ll see.”

-

“All it took was two years.” Daniel leans back against his chair as he stares back at you and Max with wide eyes. “Two nasty years and suddenly there’s no more stone cold heart.” Making sure to grab your hands across the table, he rubs the diamond in deep thought before looking back at you. “How did you do it?”

“Pussy. That’s how.”A sharp gasp escapes past Kika’s lips as she punches Pierre’s arm. The Frenchman hisses in pain as he scoots away.

And up to this day, it still remains a mystery. As some cruel joke, your fiancé would joke and say that it was some sort of black magic. The joke later had to be retired due to Yuki getting goosebumps after a night of research.

Not funny, you would point out as you console the Japanese boy who sits next to his bright laptop.

It’s not my fault he believes it!

He believes everything, you know that, Emilian!

Stop it with that.

Brushing his long fingers against the nape of your neck, he smiles probably the truest version he was ever capable of showing.

“Her heart is pretty easy to love.”

-

“Pink or blue?” Tossing over to face you and your wedding sketches - that honestly looked like a plot of how to get away with murder - he groans. This isn’t a baby shower, love. Kicking him underneath the covers, you cover your eyes as the stress finally gets to you. “It’s a summer wedding! It would be nice! A pastel perhaps or maybe neon - ew no.” 

He’s about to laugh until he notices droplets sliding down your arms. Almost immediately, he sits up with urgency as he brushes your hair softly. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. Blue. Let’s do blue.” No. It’s stupid. And ugly. He winces as he kisses your shoulder. “It’s not!”

“Yes it is!” Bloodshot orbs stare back at him as you breathe heavily. “Daniel said it, Lando said it, God - even Pierre! Since when does he have better taste than us?” 

“Pierre has the mind of a newborn, how would he know?” As soon as you crack a smile, he eases up. “If you don’t like either, then we could try coming up with something new. How about green?” Your smile drops as you wail against his arms.

“That’s even worse! You’re lucky I love you.”

-

“All it took was a fight for you both to call off the wedding?”

Staring blankly at the wall, Max shrugged. Everything almost seemed to serve no purpose if you weren’t a part of his daily life. He had gotten so used to having you around and bouncing off the walls like a kid who had too much sweets. Where had it all gone wrong? He doesn’t even know.

“Her heart is pretty good at holding a grudge.”

[leclercstars]

i’m craving something super angsty and max. like he and reader got into a fight and she left their apartment and got into an accident (someone hit her car while she was driving or someone ran into her while she was walking) and max doesn’t know that she’s been hurt for a few days until someone on the grid mentioned it to him and he grovels like his life depends on it to try and win her back. can end sad if you want

Woohoo another request fic!! This is a little different than what I usually write but I’m excited! Also I think I’ll turn it into a series. Anyways:

die for you

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: mention of car crash, some cursing.

“This cannot be fucking happening right now,” you were pacing around the kitchen of your and Max’s high-rise, your head buried in your hands as tears of frustration threatened to ruin your makeup. Thunder boomed and rain pounded on the windows.

Max had just gotten home from being out last night. It was 2 p.m.. The next day. You rarely felt this sort of anger towards him- but how could betray your trust like that? He swore up and down that he had accidentally fallen asleep at the after-party Charles had, but how could you be sure?

“Baby please you have to believe me,” his voice getting louder and louder as his frustration grew.

“I can’t! I can’t believe you! You slept at CHARLES? UNTIL TWO? It makes no sense especially since you usually don’t even drink that much.” tears were now spilling out of your eyes and your voice had taken on a tone you hadn’t even heard before.

“I’m sleeping at Isabelle’s tonight.” you said matter of factly.

Max sat on the couch, head in hands, too stunned to even move. What had he done? He knew why she was upset- and didn’t really expect her to believe his story. He hadn’t been answering her texts or calls last night either because his phone died- which certainly didn’t help the situation.

She left without so much as a goodbye. He might’ve just lost the best thing he ever had.

A week had passed now, without so much as a call or text from her. He had never felt so sick in his life, the heartbreak taking a toll on his physical health. Her stuff still lay scattered around the apartment- constant reminders of her presence that haunted him daily.

Max was hanging around the paddock the Thursday before the Monaco Grand Prix, chatting with all of his fellow drivers. He was sure that he was doing a poor job of hiding his down-trodden state.

“Did you hear about that massive wreck that happened the other day?” Daniel posed the question to the group. Everyone gave various sentiments of shock- talking about how the people involved were lucky to get out alive.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Max snapped.

“Dude, your girlfriend was literally involved. How do you not know? Did she not tell you? She’s going to make a full recovery reportedly.” Daniel replied back with genuine confusion.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The entire world started spinning- and he only saw Charles concerned face before his vision went completely black

PART 2???

[natailiatulls07]

You’re mine and only mine

Max Verstappen x female!driver!reader

Summary - Y/n and Max have been dating privately and now Y/n wants to share their relationship to the world

Warning - arguing, alcohol, love bites, idk

Reader drives for Ferrari

-

End of the season, this meant that everyone was celebrating. Either celebrating the world champion title or constructors cup or even just a break. So that meant that everyone was invited to one of the notorious nightclubs in Abu Dhabi.

Everyone dressed in their finest attire, ready to drink the night away with their friends, colleagues and rivals.

Y/n stood in front of the body length mirror, admiring herself in her black satin dress. Behind her on the hotel bed was Max Verstappen, this years world champion.

Despite being on different teams, Max with Redbull and Y/n with Ferrari, they had this growing romantic tension. Which lead them to have many quickies and hidden flings throughout the year.

“Remind me, when will I be able to show you off as mine to the world?” Y/n’s annoyed voice rang through Max ears.

“Just until the time is right.” Max responds. He had this gut feeling every time Y/n brought it up, Max wanted to show her off as his girlfriend but it didn’t feel right just yet.

Slipping into her louboutin heels, Y/n felt this underlying sense of shame. All she wanted was to tell the world that Max was her boyfriend but he always stopped her.

“Then when?! Or why not now?…Are you ashamed of me?” Her voice growing more somber. What if he was just ashamed of her?

“Schat, I’m not ashamed of you. Please I just don’t know how to deal with our relationship being so public” Max never wanted her to feel like that because it wasn’t true, far far from it.

“Are you sure now? Because I feel like you’re lying to me!” By now Y/n had moved from the front of the mirror, collecting her stuff before making her way to the hotel door. “I think I’m going to go…”

Before Max could speak through to her, Y/n had walked out of the hotel room. This leaving Max upset and annoyed at himself for not having any confidence. He was world champion but he felt like he had lost every race of the season.

-

Despite their fight earlier, both had to attend the party of the year. Putting on a brave face, making themselves look like nothing happened. The bright lights and music were wild, the party had definitely started by now.

Making her way to the bar, Y/n ordered herself a drink before going to find her team and teammate, Charles.

Walking into the club, Max’s eyes immediately started to search for her. He wanted to apologise to her, he wanted to kiss her forever in front of everyone.

“Hey! My favourite world champion, Max Verstappen!” Daniel’s voice shouted in excitement when he saw his former RedBull teammate.

“Hey Danny, have you seen Y/n yet?” Max’s comment caught Daniel off guard, they were rivals. Why would Max want to see her?

“No..anyways why do you want to see her? I mean she’s your rival, you hate her” Sighing in defeat, Max nodded his head. He made a mental note to keep and eye out for her.

“Oh nothing don’t worry…I need a drink” With the mention of Max’s need they made to the bar.

Meanwhile Y/n was over at the Ferrari table, talking to Charles about the season and families. “Don’t look now but Verstappen has just walked in” Charles announced to his teammate, this prompting Y/n to turn her head in the RedBull drivers direction.

Once she saw him stood there talking to Daniel, Y/n rolled her eyes still annoyed at him. “You know what mate, I just want a night without a drama so I plan on ignoring him for the rest of the evening” Y/n says to her Monégasque counterpart who, despite not knowing of their recent argument, agreed.

“Well here’s to ending the season, no dramas and having the party of our lives!” Charles raised his glass as to which Y/n soon joined his.

So that’s what they did, they had the best time. Y/n in particular as she felt Max’s sharp eyes on her the entire time. She danced to her heart content, but much to Max’s dismay Y/n had another trick up her sleeve. Of course it was petty but it was fun in her eyes.

“Hey Charles! Let’s dance!” Charles’ eye lit up, he had his own crush on his teammate. There was no surprise that he gladly accepted, taking her into his arms.

That was breaking point for Max, his girlfriend snuggling up to his long time rival since karting days on the dance floor. “Hold my drink.” He stood up, passing his beverage to Daniel who was confused as ever.

Max pushed past people, not caring. It wasn’t long until he arrived at the two Ferrari drivers. He push Charles off of Y/n before grabbing her bicep and walking her to the nearest toilet. Everyone was silent, confused and bewildered by his outburst.

Once they arrive to the toilet, Max pushed her up to the wall. “You’re mine and only mine” His lips were vicious on her neck, creating deep love bites.

Grasping from surprise, Y/n managed to push him off of her neck. “Then why are you still insisting that we keep it a secret? Because I can’t do both Max…please” Looking up at Max with pleading eyes.

It wasn’t long until he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the toilet back towards the crowded club. When they got back to the large nightclub, everyone was staring at the two, mainly in shock.

“Um hi everyone I just want to let you all know that this beautiful girl right here” Max gestured towards Y/n who stood awkwardly at his side “Is my girlfriend and I love her so much even though she drives for Ferrari. And if you have a problem with that, please take it up with my manager” After announcing his relationship with Y/n, they both had proud smiles on their faces whilst Max dragged them out of the nightclub.

That night, Y/n and Max felt that massive anxiety being lifted off their shoulders. They could love each other freely and openly now.

-

F1 News

At the end of season, we thought that the surprises were done that was until Max Verstappen, RedBull driver, and Y/n L/n, Ferrari driver, pull off a Romeo and Juliet love story.

yourusername

I love you, Romeo 🤍

Liked by danielricciardo and 4,476,259 others

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maxverstappen1

Love you more, Juliet 🤍

Liked by landonorris and 3,589,975 others

Comments disabled

-

[oatflatwhite]

lest I go unsheltered

buck & maddie siblingism, post 7.04 | read on ao3

The last time Buck felt this nervous about talking to Maddie, he was fifteen and had scratched the Jeep. It was a real good one too, paint and metal flaked off the driver’s side door, the panelling beneath dented enough to catch when you tried to close it. Maddie and his parents were out for the night, and it hadn’t taken much convincing from his friend Andrew for Buck to lift the keys from the bowl on Maddie’s dresser and take it for a spin. When he’d scraped the door while parking Andrew had climbed out, taken one look at the car and fled. It wasn’t the kind of scratch you could buff out and besides, he and Maddie had promised a long time ago to be honest with each other. They were on the same team, always.

But Maddie had loved that Jeep. Buck remembers feeling sick to his stomach, practicing what he would say to her. He’s pretty sure he threw up over it.

He hopes he’s not gonna throw up now. Maddie’s in the kitchen, pouring enough red into their wine glasses Buck probably shouldn’t drive after drinking his. Chim’s doing something with Albert tonight and Jee is asleep, had been already when Buck got over here. He’d poked his head in to check on her and brushed an air kiss over her soft curls, so as not to wake her, in case she felt a real one. He’d stood from his crouch to find Maddie watching them in the doorway, her head leaned up against the jamb. She was smiling softly. When she saw him looking she lifted her hand, tilted it toward her mouth. Wine?

Jesus, he’d need it. Buck had nodded and followed Maddie from Jee’s room.

She brings the promised glass out, unnervingly full, and sits across from him on the couch with one leg on the floor, the other tucked up beneath her. Buck flicks his fingernail over the thin rim of the glass, listening to the sharp ring of it, until Maddie sighs and reaches over and puts her hand over his to stop it.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, not exactly kindly. Not accusatory either, just—exasperated. Her eyebrows have climbed halfway up her forehead but when Buck doesn’t answer straight away they draw back down, then further still, until she’s frowning. “Evan?”

I scratched the Jeep, Buck had blurted, almost twenty years ago now from the top of the stairs before Maddie had even taken her key out the door. She’d looked at him that same way, eyebrows drawing together, face scrunching into a scowl as the words registered. She’d said, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, and stomped back outside to take a look at the damage. She’d left her keys in the door.

Buck’s pretty sure she’ll have a different answer this time, but the words still stick in his throat. It feels like it did when she told him about Daniel, when everything in his life could be divided neatly down the line of before-I-knew, and after. He’s drawn a second line in his head without even realising it, but which side of it things are sitting on, he’s still figuring out. He’d taken Maddie’s Jeep to impress Andrew, was the thing, who had blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair and was always quick to smile, quicker, even, than Buck, though of course he’d only been Evan back then. C’mon, Ev, he’d pleaded, wide-eyed, glinting with mischief. He’d wound the windows all the way down as they drove, laughing, the sound carrying from the car and turning Hershey into something else entirely, something that clung at Buck’s heart and made him want to stay. At least, until two years later, when Andrew had gotten into Cornell and left Buck there, in Hershey, taking all the good things about it with him.

Should Buck have known, even then?

Maddie’s still looking at him. Buck wriggles his hand out from under hers and sets his wine on the coffee table. After a moment, she puts hers down too.

“I’m,” Buck says, and the word that should come after sticks in his throat. “Something—happened. I, um, I did something.”

“Oh-kay,” Maddie says slowly, drawing the word out like it’s two: Oh… kay. She brings her other leg up so she’s cross-legged on the couch. “Is it something bad? I don’t need to hide a body for you, do I?”

“What?” Buck laughs, a quick exhale through his nose. It’s enough to ease some of the tension in his shoulders and break Maddie’s face into a small smile. “No, nothing like that. Though I—I’m concerned that’s where your mind went first.”

She shrugs. “Chim and I’ve been marathoning Criminal Minds.”

“Ah.” He rubs at his mouth. “No, um. It’s not, like, a big deal, I guess. I mean—it is, but not—like that.”

“Okay.” She looks at him.

Buck had stayed at the top of the stairs until Maddie had come back inside. She’d taken a deep breath, slid her keys from the door, shut it behind herself and locked it. I’m really mad at you, she’d said, her voice level. And then she’d looked up at him, and sighed—maybe at the way he was clutching his hands round his shoulders. Maybe at the fact he hadn’t moved an inch since she got home. Maddie sighed a lot when she was here. At their parents, when they couldn’t go a single Sunday dinner without arguing. At Buck, when he spilled bright blue nail polish all over the carpet in her room. At Doug, over the phone, when she didn’t know Buck was listening.

She’d walked up the stairs and sat next to him on the landing. Their shoulders bumped together. But I’m really glad you told me, she’d said, then grabbed his head and scuffed her knuckles through his hair. You’re paying for the repairs, stupid. Which had been a lie, anyway.

Buck takes a breath. He lets it out all at once. Maddie’s looking at him steadily. “Tommy kissed me,” he says. “I kissed him back. We’re going on a date on Saturday and I. I think I like guys.” He swallows. “That’s, um, it.”

“Evan,” Maddie says, and then nothing else because she’s in his arms, hugging him. His hands come up to her shoulder blades, the wings of them beneath her sweatshirt, and he’s been bigger and taller than his older sister since his growth spurt when he was fourteen but right now it’s like that doesn’t even matter. She holds him like she won’t let go and that tiny knot of tension, that ugly scrunching of doubt that had been nestled in his chest—it releases. Of course, it seems to say. Of course it’s okay. Like Buck had been an idiot to ever think otherwise. Which—he’s often an idiot. Maddie loves him anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she says thickly, sounding suspiciously snotty where her face is pressed against Buck’s neck. “I don’t really know the right thing to say. I love you, Evan, I’m—so proud of you.”

Buck gives his own sniffle. “That works,” he manages to say, and then Maddie is pulling back, wiping at her eyes and under her nose. There’s a damp patch on the shoulder of Buck’s shirt, that she seems to use as a target when she socks him. “Ow. What was that for?”

“You’re an idiot!” She throws her hands into the air. “You were pulling—fucking—pigtails!” Each word is punctuated by another punch. There’s no weight behind them, and after the third Maddie sits back, takes a deep breath.

“Is this where you tell me that being mean to a boy isn’t the way to tell him I like him?”

“Seems like I don’t have to.” She presses her lips together, like she’s trying to still be mad, but it hardly lasts a second until her face splits into a smile. “Evan,” she says. “Oh my God. Okay.”

She leans over to scoop up their glasses of wine and presses Buck’s into his waiting hand, and they could be fifteen and twenty-three again, shoulder-to-shoulder on the landing of their house in Hershey. Twenty-seven and thirty-five, drinking wine on Abby’s couch. Twenty-nine and thirty-seven, sifting through a baby box of memories, stood just over the line between before and after. Although maybe Buck was wrong. Maybe there is no line—no clean way to divide a life that will always be messy, because that’s what life is, isn’t it?

Windows rolled down—nail polish on the carpet—a kiss you didn’t even know you wanted, until you did.

Maddie takes a big gulp of wine, and her eyes are sparkling, matching a smile that’s almost as wide as her face. “Tell me everything,” she says, and Buck laughs, and does.

[ani-iu]

[𝟑] 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 | angel 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 × female human 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: marriage of convenience; forced proximity; angst; domestic; crack treated seriously; possessive Adam; he falls first and harder; misogyny; Adam being Adam; explicit language; religious imagery & symbolism; sexual tension; eventual smut; happy ending; not canon compliant. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,7k.

// blue-eyed altruist, keep your distance, but not too far

𝐀dam hates coffee.

He doesn’t like the earthy smell, finding it difficult to understand how anyone could derive enjoyment from something so unsavoury. And the bitter taste — it always, without fail, fades into the anticlimactic acidic aftertaste on his tongue, so already having endured a string of disappointments in his life, Adam opts out of drinking caffeine to spare himself from even more misery.

Yet, at this moment, as the black stainless steel exterior of the coffee vending machine swallows up the reflection of Adam’s black mask — only leaving an amber frown and two glaring eyes staring back at him visible — Adam feels like the happiest soul in Heaven. The bliss, however, is bittersweet.

By now, a couple of hours have passed since Adam and Lute split up so he could go to Sera’s office alone. But here he is, standing in the empty lobby, stalling the eventual visit for as long as he possibly can. He wasn’t afraid of the seraph; he was merely not in the mood to receive a stern talking to.

Silence means loneliness, and Adam, unable to tolerate either, as soon as the machine grows quiet, allowing that dreadful interval of quietude to settle in and the pungent aroma of coffee to reach his nose, throws the coffee cup into the trash can and restarts the process. The cacophony of mechanical and liquid sounds makes the otherwise deathly silence at least somewhat bearable to endure, allowing Adam to test Sera’s patience with his absence for longer. 

The high-pitched string of single-tone beeps signals the completion of another order and diverts Adam's attention from his thoughts, but just as he turns to take the steaming cup and throw it away, he sees Sera's horrifying reflection in the sleek exterior.

"Fuck, Sera! You can’t sneak up on a guy like that!"

"Adam, you are testing my patience." As it echoes through the empty foyer, the seraph's mellow tone of voice is both authoritative and commanding, making her presence felt all the way to Adam's very bones. If you were to ask Adam, he would tell you that the calmness was even worse than if she were to scream at him. "I thought I told your lieutenant I wanted to see you immediately."

"Can’t a guy get a drink first? I had a long day—"

Sera, who is quite familiar with Adam's tendency to change the topic he is not particularly eager to discuss, cuts the angel's prattling short by going straight to the matter at hand. "What is a mortal doing in Heaven?"

"Wow, straight to the point, huh? Well, you all are always on my ass about my way of life, so I decided to change that!"

"You married that mortal." Sera grits through her teeth. She foolishly clung to the hope that perhaps Adam had only brought you here as another rendezvous of his, but marriage, especially if it was officiated by an archangel, was a huge deal.

Adam has the nerve to act surprised. "Oh, so Daniel already ratted me out?"

"No, you did that yourself, but now I will be having a word with archangel Daniel as well for officiating this sacrilegious excuse of matrimony, which, may I add, makes it impossible to send the mortal back! Jaw-dropping, truly. Every single time, Adam, you manage to surprise me with your actions. How did you even get a hold of her?"

"Oh, that's actually a funny story. You should have seen the stunt she pulled in Hell!"

"And that’s where you should have left her — in Hell! Be their problem, not ours!" Sera momentarily raises her voice an octave higher before catching herself and attempting to calm down. She takes a deep breath and exhales, brushing her hair back away from her face while doing so. "Why did she even agree to this?"

Confident to a fault, but having every reason to believe his words, Adam puffs his chest out and points his thumb at himself. "Who can say no to this? Every woman out there wants a piece of the original dick! I just need to pick one of many."

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." At that moment, it seemed like a reasonable statement to make in an attempt to silence the first man, but that didn't make it less cruel. In front of Sera’s many eyes — visible and not — Adam’s expressive LED mask effortlessly twists his glowing features into a look of pain, although only for a fleeting moment. As soon as Adam gets ahold of his unspoken feelings, Sera concludes their conversation, her tone staying resolute. "Usually wisdom comes with age, but I see that there are instances where age comes alone. I expect you to deal with this problem you created for yourself appropriately. If you keep her under control, I won't interfere. If you are unable to do so, I will. Just like I did with Eve."

And just like that, Adam is left alone, but this time, he is able to stay in that spot for as long as he wants to.

Glancing at the waiting cup of coffee, still steaming away on the drip tray, Adam chucks it into the trash and is about to snap himself to his destination when his gaze gets stuck on his hand. With a defeated sigh, he turns around and strides towards the left wing of the enormous building where all the archangels reside.

Raphael is the last archangel Adam wants to see — ever — usually avoiding the heavenly being as much as he possibly can, which isn’t that hard when the first man is an immortal being who can’t get hurt. But keeping your bleeding wound at the forefront of his mind, Adam has no choice but to seek out the angel of healing of his own volition.

Adam doesn't knock, pushing the door the same way one rips off a band-aid. But instead of experiencing temporary discomfort, he is met with a slender, pale-faced figure.

The eyes, which usually symbolise these celestial beings' all-seeing and omnipresent nature, are tightly wrapped in a white cloth, but a lack of sight doesn't make Raphael's all-pervasive perception any less so. With such a statement, he blatantly showed that he doesn’t need sight to see through others.

Raphael's pride is just another thing he has in common with his fallen brother, apart from their near-identical appearances.

"Adam."

"You already know why I'm here."

Raphael puts his quill down and tilts his head at Adam. "Yes, Sera can be very loud when she wants to. So you really are here because of the mortal? Finally decided to seek my help?"

"She got burned by hellfire. I need something for the wound."

"I was talking about you."

"I’m not hurt."

"That’s what you seem to be desperately trying to convince me of, or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Raphael’s words are met with petulant silence.

The archangel rests his chin in his palm, lazily drawing the silhouette of a bottle in the air with his finger, while Adam watches how an invisible scribble turns into a tangible object before his eyes. Having grabbed Adam's attention, Raphael uses the opportunity wisely. "Not all wounds are physical, and not all of them can be remedied with divine healing. If you want to open your heart to someone again, first you have to mend it together. It has been bleeding for decades, but love heals. Self-love is also love, Adam. You can’t love someone without loving yourself first." The bottle of dark glass grows heavy and starts to drop down, falling into Raphael’s waiting palm. "The burn of hellfire will be the least of her worries if you don’t take into account what I said, Adam."

Snatching the flask of holy water away from the archangel's grasp, Adam teleports instantly back to his apartment. He planned to fly back, but he couldn’t spend a second longer in the same vicinity as Raphael.

If Adam pretended that nothing happened today, it just might seem that way at first glance. All of the furniture is still in its place, and the dust on it is left undisturbed, yet the man can’t help but notice little details like the coffee table being a bit turned to the side while the room feels warmer somehow — more lively and not as empty. Or was it Adam’s subconscious not allowing him to entertain a thought of you not being in his life?

His legs instinctively lead him toward the bedroom, where a small crack in the door allows him to catch a glimpse of the inside without fully stepping into the room.

The moonlight spilling in through the open windows illuminates the minimalistic space. Its rays are softer than the sun's — not as harsh on the eyes — and bathe your feminine features in cool watercolour shades, making you and your existence feel more and more like a dream than reality to the silent observer that is Adam. Adam doesn't even notice when he steps inside, discarding his mask near the bed and sitting on its edge, your sleeping self right behind him.

In the huge bed, you look so tiny and vulnerable — the bedding looks like puffy clouds swallowing you up in dreamy white. But even in deep sleep, you don’t look at peace.

"Mngh…"

Your breathing is laborious as you toss and turn, so Adam thoughtfully glides his index finger along the curve of your body, sliding the long digit under the tightly wrapped strips of fabric and softly tugging on them to loosen up the dress. Almost instantaneously, your lungs take a greedy gulp of air once the pressure on your chest elevates, so fragile and alive…

Adam's hand goes to hover above your face, not yet daring to touch your pinkened cheeks. Instead, he starts small, carefully bringing his leathery fingers down towards soft, warm skin and brushing away a few hair strands that are obstructing his view. But that is when you unconsciously turn your head and nuzzle your cheek into his hand. Adam holds his breath as he watches you closely. Your lips look as mildly intoxicating as the wine you drank, seducing Adam into pressing his own to get a taste. Staring at you in such a way almost feels gluttonous, as if savouring you without your knowledge or consent is one of the sins God warned humanity about, an ever-tantalising morsel…

But just as Adam lowers his face to be merely a hair's breadth away, a feeling of doubt crosses his mind.

Did you drink the wine so that it would be easier to face him? And instead of kissing your lips, he ends up planting a lingering kiss beneath them — on your chin.

Adam's hand, which supports his weight and lays flat beside your head, grips the sheet in anger at himself. He hates himself for his childish dreams of wanting to be loved in this lifetime, for yearning to have someone breathe life into his mundane days, and for wishing for someone who would occupy his self-loathing mind with meaningless conversations.

"Mmm… Marcel…"

He loosens his grip on the sheet and sits up.

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." Sera's words echo inside Adam's head as if his own inner voice isn't taking enough space in it as it is.

Adam knew a thing or two about forbidden things. He understood how perilous they were and what misery they could bring him if he indulged in them, but there was also the indescribable sweetness that almost made it all better.

He takes your burnt hand into his own — your human skin sharply contrasting with the inky black of his palm — and covers the weeping wound in holy water. With his thumb, he gently moves the liquid back and forth until it all disappears, washing away the blood and pain while only leaving a scar. Hellfire was no joke.

After giving you one last look, Adam gets up from his seat and retreats back to his spot on the couch.

He indulged himself enough for one day.

» » »

It takes you a while to blink your sore eyes open — the room you are in is just too bright.

You toss and turn, pulling the sheets closer to you with involuntary movements. Slightly disoriented, you finally open your eyes, and as your brain connects the dots, the sleepy bliss disappears. You can feel your stomach drop at the realisation that all of it was not a nightmarish hallucination. The room is Adam’s bedroom, as in the first fucking man from the Bible, and you are in Heaven — a place, not a state of bliss.

"God, I’m so fucked." You groan while palming at your eyes. It takes you a few deep breaths in and out to calm yourself down, but once you do and roll to lie on your back, another problem makes itself known.

The wedding dress that had been so tightly wrapped around you yesterday is now just a pile of loose pieces of silk hastily draped over your body, leaving too much skin exposed to the chilly morning air and to anyone’s eyes if they decided to walk in the room. Most importantly, you had your new husband to watch out for, and as that realisation dawns on you, you sit up in the bed while hugging yourself, desperately searching around for something to use as a shield from his perverted gaze. Luckily, it doesn't take you long to spot a neatly folded fabric at the foot of the bed.

Scooting closer, you reach for the garment and unfold it to get a better look. The fabric is so silky smooth that it slides between your fingers like quicksilver. It is cold to the touch, but you have little choice; the other one is to walk naked, so putting on the new dress it is.

You glance at the door before standing up. With the remnants of your previous dress pooled around your legs, you pull the new one over your head. An involuntary shiver shakes your body, but with the help of your body heat, the fabric quickly warms up. If only everything could get better so swiftly. 

The dress is more comfortable, less tight, and has long bell sleeves that leave only the tips of your fingers visible. Still no underwear, but beggars can't be choosers.

All dressed up, you plop back onto the bed, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Deep inside you, a conflict rages between your stubbornness and insatiable curiosity. The wine hangover helps the latter prevail, so you warily walk out of the room.

With your heart pounding, you trail your palm across the walls for support, listening for any noise and searching your mind for the appropriate words. How does one start a conversation in this kind of situation? 

As you reach the corner behind which the living room resides, you stand up straighter, take a deep breath, and step forward with way more confidence than you feel at the moment.

Only to find the space empty. All that pep talk, only for Adam to be nowhere to be seen. Did he even come back home yesterday?

But instead of relief at the angel's absence, a cold, freezing feeling of dread washes over you, to the point it makes your skin prickle. Sure, you would prefer going back to your old life with no Adam in sight, but if you can’t, you are ready to accept your new normal. This is why, without Adam around, you feel the loneliness and emptiness that you felt when you got the news of Marcel’s passing. 

Adam can't die like Marcel did, so his absence is intentional. 

Brushing your hair away from your face, you turn your back towards the living room and face the darkness of the corridor with new resolve. You will do your best to make the most of this situation and use your husband’s absence to look for a way to bring your dead boyfriend back from Hell.

There is one more door further down that was left unexplored yesterday — the one you push open, allowing the morning sun to kiss you all over your face. It warms you up like a mother’s hug, and you feel a bit better until you see what type of room it is.

Jackpot.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause. Given your affinity for reading, you naturally begin by scanning the leathery spines on the bookshelves.

Gold decorative elements on the spines give off a sense of elegance and luxury, but they emit any lettering that would hint at or spell out a title. When you hook your finger and drag one out of the row, it's a blind guess.

The book has some weight to it, which only adds to the impression of its value in all aspects, but as you open it, it lacks the one thing that is most precious to you. The high-quality paper is pleasant to the touch yet is worthless without any ink staining it. 

You flip through the rest of the book, but all pages are like that — empty.

All the same, you painstakingly go through every book. You pick each one with the same exact care as the one before it, skimming through pages on the off chance that one of them will contain something, and after sifting through three shelves worth of books, you would choose any language over blank pages. But as you close the last one and put it on top of a pile, the reality sets in.

You believed that nothing could be more disheartening than finding yourself stranded far from home in a loveless marriage. That is, until now, as you sit on the ground, surrounded by nothing but empty leather shells and an emptier mind. 

You stand up and begin putting everything back, and as you reach the last volume, you hug it close to your chest, refusing to accept defeat. Maybe I need some kind of looking glass to be able to read? This is Heaven after all, and naturally, a human couldn’t simply access something that might be deemed sensitive information.

With that, you turn toward the desk.

Come on, Mr. 'I’m so important' should have something useful in his freaking house.

The desk has paperwork in the drawers, but they look like basic forms that probably should have been filled out and signed.

I’m starting to think that either his importance is inflated or he actually doesn’t do anything.

You want to stay confident, but the revelation hits you in the gut. Despair, headache, and hunger unite their forces, and you slump into the armchair by the desk — defeated. It’s difficult to stay optimistic when everything seems to be working against you.

Having nothing else to do, you pick yourself up and give the room one last glance before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

And then your bad mood is only made worse by the unsurprisingly empty kitchen.

You swallow down the taste of nausea at the back of your tongue and turn to face the rest of the living space while leaning your back against the kitchen counter. As you gaze around, you chew at your bottom lip, debating if it’s time for self-cannibalism.

The coffee table is empty of any trash, so Adam must have come back for at least a second. Now the important question is what he did while he was home if he didn’t leave anything for his very alive wife.

Your eyes move to the side of the main area, where you maintain eye contact with another living thing in the apartment — the potted plants. Walking closer towards them, you sink your middle and index fingers into the pot, touching the soil to find it freshly watered.

So, he had half a mind to take care of the plants, but not you? Noted.

Hunger turns into anger as you storm towards the wine cellar to pick up a fresh bottle of poison.

You wonder if this is his tactic to make you succumb to him. Does he think that if he isolates you for a long enough period of time, you would jump in joy to see him, simply because you would crave that human connection? If so, he underestimates you greatly.

You will jump him alright, with a knife at hand.

You get comfortable on the couch, snuggling into the soft blankets. They smell like him, but the scent is surprisingly pleasant, so you don't mind it too much as you nurse a bottle of red wine and patiently wait.

Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t a confrontational person. You wished nothing less than to go back to the bedroom, mind your business, and wait till the next day for Adam to leave. Rinse and repeat. But no, you couldn’t afford that now. Now knowing that there is nothing of value to be found in the house pertaining to your plans, you have no choice but to be confrontational.

When you notice the first signs of the evening in the room, you put the half-empty bottle on the coffee table and begin slowly flipping through the empty pages of the book that you snatched from the decoy study. It's a poor attempt to make yourself get lost in thought, and it gives your fidgeting fingers something to do — not to mention it is more interesting than looking at a plain corner. 

You wonder what time it is in Hell, and where Marcel is right now. Is he lying in bed just like you, thinking of you the way you are thinking of him? You know that he is, and that's what keeps you company. The knowledge that wherever he is now, he is with you in thoughts and memories — happy and sad ones. You now cherish every single one.

And that’s when the front door finally opens.

"Oh, you’re still awake?"

Adam is noticeably a bit surprised to find you sitting comfortably on the couch with a new wine bottle opened and standing tall on the coffee table. There’s a glass beside it, half full.

You glance up from the decoy book. "You hoped I wasn’t, huh?"

"Huh?" He dares to act confused.

"What’s your long-term goal? What’s the gain? You just tore me away from everything I once knew, only to leave me all on my own to navigate the land of the dead!" The sound that is created by you loudly closing the book acts like the exclamation mark to your abridged list of grievances, and when you — not so gently — throw it on the coffee table, it reopens and displays the nothingness you have been looking at this whole time. It's a silent testament — one of many — to just how much effort Adam put into caring for you. So much, in fact, that he couldn't even provide you with something to occupy your time. But that is the least of his offences.

He finally closes the door behind him.

"You bitches are so fucking emotional, fuck. Can’t even step properly inside."

Silence.

You are now looking at Adam through your furrowed eyebrows, chewing on the skin of your lips in deep thought. Thank God you threw the book before he spoke; he can practically see the murder plans brewing inside your pretty little head. 

And then you smile, falling back onto the couch and rolling around like it is the most comfortable thing in the entire world — it isn't, which is why your words sound even more condescending.

"That’s a lovely couch you have there. Is that why you sleep on it instead of the bed?"

"...what?"

"Why don't you sleep in your bed?"

"I— uh, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I may be a dick—"

"No," you shake your head, leaning back against the backrest with your arms crossed. "You didn’t sleep there before me either."

"Pff, and you would know?"

"Why?" You ignore his fake display of cockiness.

"Why what—"

"You know damn well what I’m getting at. Don't act stupid, and do yourself a favour by not openly showing that you are not the brightest star in the sky. What’s wrong with the bed?" You would guess that the mask adorning his face serves a specific purpose. Without a doubt, it serves as an accessory on the battlefield, but its constant use leads you to believe that the man in front of you likes to hide his true feelings behind it. Too bad that his mask is just as expressive as the skin he hides underneath it. "It’s not a weakness to admit pain, you know? Talk to me." Give me something to work with...

"Listen, babe, I think this role of a ‘wife’ is getting into your head, as does the holy wine. I think you had enough of that, don’t you?"

He takes the bottle away from you before you can snatch it.

"Maybe leave me with food next time if you don’t want me drinking! How else am I supposed to sustain myself?!"

"Definitely not with liquid, and for your information, holy wine sustains the soul, not your mortal body, dumbass."

"Keyword — mortal! You want me to die?!"

As you scream at one another with such a hefty distance between you two, the situation kind of seems hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucked up.

"Sorry, I didn’t know that I couldn’t leave you by yourself for five fucking minutes as if you were a child! You know you’re free to roam around, little dove? The cage," he turns around and reopens the front door for effect. "Is unlocked."

"As if I will venture to a place that I know nothing about!"

"That didn’t stop you from going to the fucking Hell! Heaven is where you draw the line?! It’s the safest place there is, for fuck sake!"

In your fury-addled state of mind, you stand up on the couch, your bare feet sinking into the plush cushions.

"Maybe the sound doesn’t travel up to that height or you are just as empty as the books in your study, but all the same, let me rephrase my words. Ever think that it would be just as scary as a human to be around angels as it would be surrounded by demons?"

It turns out that wanting compassion out of the first man is useless.

"If only I knew beforehand that you would nag so much."

And for someone as primordial as the Earth itself, Adam comes across as very callow.

"You call me wanting to understand my husband more nagging? Or is it the part where I ask for basic human necessities?!"

It takes him exactly three steps to stand face to face with you. Your breath is visible on his mask.

"Oh, you want to do your wifely duties so badly?" He coo’s at you patronisingly, his voice so flat it makes you shiver in fear. "How about we start with consummating our marriage, hm?"

The words reach the desired reaction as Adam watches your face grow noticeably pale.

"Nothing to say? Can I speak now, or are you going to scream some more?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, tasting defeat. Once again, you lose the shiny spark of hope in your eyes, and Adam swears that the room grows darker just like the colour of your iris.

"I never thought I would have to fight for a marriage I didn’t even want. Why marry me if you have no need nor time for another person? If I wasn’t in a new environment and actually knew someone else who wasn’t you, believe me, I wouldn’t be begging for your company. You are not the prize you think you are. I’m a fish you plucked out of water and threw in a glass with water because, according to you, that’s everything a fish needs — something to breathe."

Adam doesn't stop you from climbing off the couch, nor does he run after you as you slink towards the bedroom.

After gently closing the door, you press yourself against it and slide down until the dress pools around you. You hide your face in your knees and let out a shaky breath. This is your life now: living in a place that will never be your home, surrounded by creatures who will never understand you. Even if these souls once were humans, they have long forgotten what it feels like — Adam is a wonderful example of that.

You don't know if you slept that night. You only know that your eyes were already open when the first rays of the morning sun started spilling into the bedroom. Everything is foggy in your mind as nightmares mix up with reality, until the line becomes so blurred that you don't know where one ends and where the other begins. 

After stupidly wasting too much time pressed against the door, you finally exit the bedroom when, to your relief and irritation, Adam is nowhere to be heard again. You don’t want to see his face after yesterday, but his absence also means that he didn’t care about anything you said to him — or about you, for that matter.

As you make your way through the empty apartment, the presence of the study behind you is almost palpable — mocking you behind your back for naively believing it would be of any use to you. However, you won't let a small disappointment deter you from seeking a way out of here.

Sure, being able to find everything you need in one place that you have complete access to would be ideal, but life is never this easy, and the afterlife, being an extension of it, is no different. Nonetheless, you already are planning what your next course of action is going to be, and for it to work out, all you need is to find out where Adam works and think of a diversion so he doesn't question you too much. Of course, on top of everything, having bravery would be an advantage, but it's not a requirement.

And just like the sun comes out after every storm, something in your peripheral vision catches your attention, leading to a growling stomach and a spark of sudden inspiration.

Surprisingly, Adam took into consideration your mortality and left you with a plethora of ingredients — killing two birds with one stone by providing you with something to eat and entertainment in the form of cooking. This is also the moment when you decide what you will use as a diversion in your plan.

Maybe you could slowly make Adam trust you over time, or, even better, somehow infiltrate the circle he’s frequenting until you get the useful information. But you are not known for being patient — determined and stubborn is a more correct description. And as you shove a freshly baked muffin into your mouth while putting the rest into one of the containers you've found, you hype yourself to finally leave the comfort of the apartment, despite your stomach churning with anxiety.

He wants you to venture outside on your own? You will… you will…

And you do.

Until now, you didn't have a chance to truly observe Heaven, but one thing is for certain — you look terribly out of place here.

It’s a very surreal experience, as though you've journeyed into the distant future. Perhaps it's because of all the Renaissance paintings you familiarised yourself with during your frequent visits to local museums and art galleries, but you truly believed that Heaven would have more fields filled with freely roaming animals rather than the anthropomorphic ones who are actually not so subtly staring at you as you pass them by.

Their reactions to you kind of explain the reason behind Adam's hideous mask. He did feel quite human looking underneath it, and judging by the looks you're getting, that's not a very common appearance around here.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find the first man?" You turn and direct your question at the first unfortunate winner you encounter, who appears to resemble a lamb. She even bleats like one, noticeably frightened by your presence and straightforwardness.

However, she is in heaven for a reason. The beautiful angel, unable to turn away a person in need, with a soft, high-pitched voice accompanying her hoof points towards one of the glass buildings and says, "You should find him there."

No maybes are muttered, only an assured statement as her white face blushes golden.

"Thank you."

But you don't care for nuances. Ultimately, you are simply content that you now know for certain where to look for Adam — inside of a particularly tall glass building outside which you now stand.

When you push the door open, its surface fogs up from your warm touch, leaving noticeable fingerprints behind. You tug on the sleeve of your dress and attempt to clean the smudging off, but it seems to only make the mess bigger and, in turn, more visible. Your skin prickles with hot embarrassment as you almost drop the box with your baked goods while trying to fix up the mess.

"Oh, sweetheart, where did your halo go?"

Startled, you jump a bit, causing the door to slam shut with a glass-rattling bang. Seeing no one at your eye level, you glance down to look at a small animal-like creature near your feet. The small sheep angel looks like what grape candy tastes like, dressed in various shades of periwinkle from head to hoof.

Before you can answer him, another voice cuts into the conversation.

"Obviously she’s human, Collin!"

You turn your head to see who the second voice belongs to and notice another tiny guy, but this one looks like a chubby human baby and a more familiar version of the small angels you have seen being depicted in paintings before. These small creatures are cherubim.

"H-human? In Heaven?!" The sheep cherub is soft-spoken, his voice remaining on the lower side even as he shouts.

"If I may ask," you clear your throat to catch the attention of the little cherubims. "Where could I find, um, Adam?"

But they just take the information you have given them and ignore your question entirely.

"It's not surprising that the first man allowed a human to roam freely around Heaven." The more human-looking cherub puffs out his tummy and huffs while crossing his tiny hands in front of his chest. 

"Cletus! You shouldn’t speak that way!"

That's when you feel someone tug on your free hand, the one with your wedding ring on.

"So the rumours are true…" the baby cherub whispers underneath his little button nose while the timid sheep jumps into action and finally gives you what you wanted.

"He’s currently at a meeting but should be back soon! You can wait in his office! It’s— actually let me write it down for you!"

With the directions written down in great detail, it doesn't take you long to reach your destination. You give a knock first, in the off chance that Adam got back, and you would have to execute your original plan. You don’t want to — it’s easier if he’s not there — but you will do anything for this to succeed.

The door is unsurprisingly unlocked, and when you step inside and look around, it all suddenly clicks to you. No wonder Adam doesn’t come home.

Adam's workspace looks like what one might expect a person's home to look like. It’s cosy and warm, filled to the brim with character, as each element conveys a deeper meaning without the need for Adam's voice. Now you know where he keeps his guitars or where he writes his music. And the furniture — now you notice that you haven’t seen any wooden furnishings anywhere else apart from Adam’s home and now his office. Everything else around Heaven is cold to the touch and glassy. You can't help but wonder if he builds everything himself. 

You finally snap out when the door, no longer being held by you, snaps close shut with a loud bang.

Right, you should probably get going.

However, there are even fewer things to be found here. It's all the same unfinished paperwork you have seen back in his home study, but this time there's not even a decorative bookcase filled with empty books to at least create an illusion.

You halt in your step when you hear footsteps and the sound of Adam’s voice nearby.

When the doors open, you are like a deer caught in headlights. You find yourself standing in the middle of the office, with no time or opportunity to hide. You guess there is no other choice for you but to go along with the original plan.

Another angel accompanies Adam; she resembles Lute in her attire, yet her complexion is darker and her hair is longer, with curls cascading down to her chest. She is standing flush with the taller angel as if attempting to squeeze through the narrow doorway at the same time as Adam. But although he is guiding her away from him, he’s doing so with softness and a light-hearted laugh while the smaller angel seems to drink up the affection with glowing cheeks.

You know you shouldn’t feel the way you do, but you can’t help but feel your heart squeezing up at the sight. And just as you consider ducking to hide under Adam's desk, he suddenly looks in your direction, and his face falls.

"Oh! Hello?" The female angel looks you up and down, craning her head a little bit to the side. "You must be one of the girls from the temples, right? I can’t believe the outdated dresses they make you wear there."

Somehow that stung, even though you didn’t choose your clothing yourself. You started getting used to them, this particular dress being quite comfortable and pretty in its own way, but now you just felt even more like a fool. It didn’t help that you already felt self-conscious — being a human and not an angel. In their eyes, dying could turn you into a sinner, implying that you didn't belong here. But also being branded as old-fashioned for your clothing was definitely a final nail in your imaginary coffin. 

Was Adam thinking the same way? Sure, he married you, but perhaps the Hell’s lighting played tricks on him, and now he realises after the fact just how unattracted he is to you. In the Archangel’s office, it was dark too. It would only make sense—

Wow, your self-esteem got really hit. That is the only explanation why you would care what he thinks.

You don’t say anything to her, just raise your hand so your palm is hovering above your head and move it back and forth to show the lack of a halo. This finally catches her attention, and with wide eyes and a meek apology, she leaves you and Adam alone in the room.

"How did you get in here?"

Adam doesn't sound frustrated with you, so that’s a relief. You swallow down any unsavoury words you might be tempted to say and grab a box of muffins from his desk.

"I took up your offer and went for a walk, also thought I would bring you this," you present him with the baked goods. "Think of it as a peace treaty."

He still looks sceptical, so you bite your inner cheek, put the box back on the wooden surface, and move toward Adam with slow steps.

"I’m really sorry for how I acted last night." There is only a small gap between you two as you, without looking away from his masked face, drop to your knees and sit down so that your butt rests on the heels of your feet. "What do you say, let's start over?"

Afraid he would start thinking too much when you want him to not do that, you don't wait for his answer and bring your hands to grasp both of his clothed thighs. You gather the fabric of his robe in your fists, pulling the garment up — all the while maintaining eye contact.

You feel Adam's fingers wrap around one of your wrists, which motivates you to now undo his belt. However, before you can do anything, Adam effortlessly pulls you up.

"You think I’m that dumb, wifey?" He tugs you by your arm until you are leaning against his stomach. "Save the last bit of your dignity and go home. You want me to believe, after the blowout of yesterday’s night, that suddenly you’re so head over heels for me while shaking like a leaf? Please."

But that’s what finally does it for you.

You free your wrist from his grasp and make your way towards the door without saying another word. You don't give a damn about where you're going or where you should go. At this moment, all you want is to reach the end of Heaven and jump off it. You didn't want to see Adam or the judgemental glances of angels and winners as you passed them by.

But just as you are about to reach for a handle, Adam — not wanting this to happen in a place that everyone can see — opens a portal where the door is, and that makes you fall through it straight onto the couch in the living room of your shared apartment.

"Are you really that upset about me not wanting to take advantage of you?" Adam yells as he steps through the portal himself.

"You are quite comfortable taking everything else from me, so I don’t see the problem with that, but no, for your information, that is the least I’m upset about." You sneer back at him. "Did my presence in Hell truly offend you this much that you decided to curse me for a life of misery?"

"Life of misery? Is that what you call a marriage you consented to?!" Adam instantly regrets his outburst. It was always so easy to cast the blame away from himself. Usually, he wasn't at fault, but your solemn face tells a different story. He made a huge mistake.

"I did, huh." With that, you push yourself up from the couch and turn to leave.

That’s when Adam grows desperate, scrambling to get you closer. He quickly gets back into your line of sight in an attempt to grab your hand.

"What do you want me to say?! That I didn’t think it through when I married you?? Bitches fall on their knees for me! They love me! What makes you so different? For your information, I take wedding wows extremely seriously, and I’m not some kind of monster to touch you when you don’t want me to. I–I didn’t want to come onto you and make you uncomfortable." Adam can't even bear to look you into your eyes. "I wanted your loyalty, that unrelenting devotion for myself. I didn’t think it through. I thought, at that moment, that I could take it, but it was never mine to take. But here you are, bending over backwards, trying to prove something! Is he really worth all of this? Do you think you are so brave for doing something like this? Sacrificing yourself for nothing?"

"For nothing?! I'm doing this for love! Love IS a sacrifice, and I sacrificed being with Marcel because I love him enough to give my life and future for him when I don’t even know if he’s alive. That’s how much I love him." You scream at Adam as if your loud voice would finally get through him, but he doesn't even look in your direction. He leaves you to stare at your own reflection in his dark, shiny cheek. "Everyone deserves love, but you devoid yourself of it on your own. I accepted my fate! I really wanted to know you more, see from your perspective, and what did I get in return?! You treated me like a joke!"

"I don’t want this to just be bearable for you! I don’t want to see you because I can’t bear looking at someone who is just okay to be here!"

"What’s even the point of wearing that mask if you can’t even look me in the eyes while saying that I’m just a mistake you made?"

"I know that you hate me. It would be so unbelievably stupid of you if you didn't, and that’s why it’s easier if you direct all of your hate towards this," he points to his masked face. "Than the real thing."

You two stand so close to one another — too close — but neither of you moves away for a while. Adam can hear your breathing, but that's it. 

And that's when one of you makes a move — you walk around him. Adam tries to grab you again, but you yank your arm away.

"At least hate me like you did before. I need you to feel some type of way, anything but indifferent… please. Scream and shout, but don’t stay silent."

He hates the silence.

You stop, but don't turn around to face him.

"All I can do is pity you. You are your worst enemy, Adam."

Back in the bedroom, you tear the dress off your body and fall onto the bed. You curl in on yourself and burry your face into the fluffy sheets, soaking them in your fury-fuelled tears while screaming all of the frustration away. Your head is a mess, and your heart is too.

Helpless — you feel so helpless.

[uknowmesblog]

How many things can you do in a few hours? Well, with some help from your friends, you managed to decorate your room without catching too much attention. You need to thank your father for helping you evolve your sneak-around-the-base ability since you bring inside lots of toiletries, blankets, pillows, and so on. 

Now your room is the epitome of a pink princess with all the posters decorating your walls and the covers for the bed. Plushies spread around it, even a small TV that you could connect with a laptop so you can watch your romantic series without too much effort.  

“Unbelievable we managed to do that!” Daniele chuckled, sipping from her vodka disguised in a red berry soda can. 

She was on the other side of the wall, sitting on her car hood with Mikael. His hand wrapped lazily around her shoulder, drinking plain soda. Driving safe y’know? 

“Me neither, I think I will get in trouble for that” You laughed, sitting on top of the wall. One knee up, resting your forearm against it. Was this an act of rebellion? Of course, did you see your room? Tragic! Those bastards need to let you leave, either your way or the highway. 

“You sure will” Dani laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe they won’t just let you leave this fucking prison.’ 

“Well, their funeral, not mine” You shrugged a shoulder, smirking. 

“Cheers to that” Mikael laughs, throwing a pack of cigarettes in your direction. Barely catching them with both hands, your brow raised questioning him with interest. “You have more in that pink box we gave it to you, take it as a gift to calm your nerves.” 

“What the hell is going on?” Ghost’s voice made you drop your drink, big eyes widening even more. 

“Shit, go!” You whispered, jumping in front of him as soon as they took their escape. “Hi, Ghost,” you said, straight back, eyelash fluttering innocently. 

“Who you were talkin’ to?”  

“No one?” You looked around confused (someone should give you an Oscar). “Are you okay, do you need to see the nurse?’ 

His hand moved so fast, gloved fingers wrapping around your chin holding you under his scorching gaze. Craning your head back until you could hold eye contact, pain already flaring at the back of your neck. He is tall, broad, and now holding you with his strong hand. 

“I don’ know what’s your plan” His fingers tightened, making you whine “But you better start acting accordingly, otherwise I won't hesitate to put you on your knees.” He growled, making you squirm. A small hand wrapped around his wrist, trying to push him away. 

“Let me go” You squeaked, but he only tightened his hold. 

“You reek of vodka, go take a shower, dress properly. You have 30 minutes on the clock starting now.’ He let you go, stepping back and looking at you darkly. His baklava made him look even more serious, that skull making you shiver. 

“30 minutes? I need one hour at best!” You exclaimed annoyed, but he only narrowed his gaze, giving you shivers along your spine.  

“I won’t be shy to drag your naked ass out of the shower and around the base, if you want to learn to discipline the hard way be my guest.” 

Your thighs clenched together for a second, your mind conjuring some freak images in your head. Ghost with his stoic facade didn’t seem to observe, but oh boy! He did, he inhaled deeply behind his baklava, hoping you would provoke him further.  

He is craving to punish you, to make you surrender and be a good girl. 

But since you are a stubborn girl, you turned around and walked toward your room ready to show him that 30 minutes are more than enough. 

═════ ◈ ═════ 

When Ghost knocked, you were already dressed in a pair of cargo pants and a black t-shirt, pulling your hair in a ponytail.  

“Wait!’’ You managed to say with a bow stuck between puffy lips. 

He didn’t wait, entering the room and looking for the first time since you two met, shocked. His eyes took in the whole room, even the bow now secured around your hair. 

“Bloody hell” He exhaled, lookin’ ready to sprint out like your room was about to suck out his masculinity. 

“What? Afraid of a little pink?” You mocked him, chuckling. 

“I cannot believe you did this so fast.” You smirked, following him outside. 

“I can do way worse, all you can do to avoid this is to dismiss me.” He ignored you, walking fast trying to avoid you. You continue to try and assault his mind with endless questions, only to stop mid track when a whistle erupts around you.  

Didn't even paying attention when you followed him inside the debriefing room, a guy watching you hungrily. His mohawk, his beautiful intense and blue eyes, his muscular body, his smirk.. Everything was screaming ‘proceed with caution’, but you watched like he was some kind of prize, mouth opened and eyes wide. 

"You're such a bonnie girl, I'd love to have a wee bit of fun wi' ye." His accent almost made you drop right there, ready to spread your legs and let him whatever he tried to say. 

“Not now Soap, let the doll at least meet you before you slobber all over her” Another rich voice coming from one of the prettiest man you had ever seen. Dark like chocolate skin, short dark hair and shinning eyes. “Come on, we don’t bite” he nodded towards an empty spot between him and the Mohawk guy, your eyes widening. 

"Ah dinnae want tae scare her, jist want tae gie her a warm welcome." Soap grumbled, and you moved before thinking, making yourself comfortable and stiff simultaneously. 

“Just so you know, Price is a reasonable guy” He whispered in your ear. “I’m Kyle, but you can call me Gaz” His finger wrapped around your tail, swirling a few strands softly. “The meathead next to you it’s Johnny, but you can call him Soap.”  

Soap’s fingers wrapped around your knee, tightening so slightly you barely felt it. 

"Be a good lass and we'll take care o' ye." He whispered and you tried to break the spell these two put on you. But it was like a wave pulling and pulling, chocking you with all the pressure. 

“Aight, let the girl breath” Price’s voice saved you, both of them sitting straighter and giving him their full attention. You blew a breath, not observing Ghost who’s already imagining you trapped between you and his good Johnny, or Price’s smirk when he seen Gaz wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder. Your cheeks flaming as he whispered something, making you whine and hide behind your hands. 

Your plan needs a new idea, since you stumbled on two powerful men ready to stop you from leaving. You’ll be their doll; you just don’t have an idea yet. 

If Soap's words are a bit off, Google is the one to blame.

Also! Thanks to everyone who read this, I m a happy girlie now hehe.

@brxghtlxghtz

@niresenrab

@nes-kopi

[theemporium]

Being besties with lando and Danny and kinda a love rival situ but also ur all friends and how that would play out between the dynamic

idk what this is but thank you for requesting!🖤

.

The worst part was that you were all friends. 

Despite the weird lingering tension that suffocated the three of you, you were all friends and at the end of the day, you just wanted what was best for each other. 

The guilt of his feelings left a bad taste in his mouth. Daniel saw Lando as a younger brother, as a younger version of himself even. He saw the same spark in his eyes that he had when he joined Formula One at a young age. And he knew that you and Lando would be more well-fitted, closer in age and less likely to spark controversy amongst the media. He may had cared about you in a way he shouldn’t, but he cared about Lando too and he didn’t want the younger boy to get hurt. 

Lando clung onto his underlying insecurities like a secret he would take to the grave. The boy had spent his childhood idolising Daniel, watching him and cheering him on. Getting to work with him was one of the biggest achievements in his life, and if Lando idolised Daniel this much, why wouldn’t you too? Why wouldn’t you prefer Daniel over him? Why wouldn’t you choose him? 

And for you—well, you felt like your head was constantly spinning. 

The feelings you had for the Aussie driver were undeniable. He made you feel safe and comfortable whenever you were around him. It was hard not to smile whenever you spoke to him, and the charming remarks he made would make your stomach explode with butterflies and your cheeks flush under his attention.

But with the Brit, it was no different. Lando understood you in a way other people didn’t. You had never laughed as hard as you did when you were with him, nor had you ever felt out of place with him. There was an understanding there that bonded you, that made you seek him out in a crowded room because you wanted to know he was there.

You cared about them both, maybe even more than that. But as much as you loved them, you also loved the bond they shared. You loved their friendship and you never wanted to be the person to get in between them, despite your own feelings.

But sometimes your feelings were hard to ignore. 

The summer break had arrived, the first batch of races done and, like most of the grid, you had found yourself in a club, dressed up and a few drinks deep knowing that you didn’t have to worry about work tomorrow. 

You hadn’t seen either of your boys all night and maybe that’s what set it off. Maybe that’s why the second Daniel was near you, you were grabbing him towards you. The Aussie only laughed, tugging you towards him and spinning you until you were laughing with him. 

The crowd pushed you closer until you were pressed up against him, your arms around his neck and his head dipping down. It would have been so easy to just lean down and kiss you, to finally have you after months of wanting you. But something was holding him back.

And then you felt a body push up against you from behind.

The Brit himself was a few drinks deep, his inebriations loose and his body wanted nothing more than to touch you. His hands felt like a heavy comfort on your waist, his chest pressed against your back and your head lying on his shoulder. 

You looked up at him, unspoken words passing between you as you pressed your lips against his. And unlike Daniel, he kissed you back without a moment of hesitance. Your lips moved against his, his tongue teasing yours and you leaned into his touch.

You felt Daniel moving to step away, to give you the space you needed but your hand darted out to grip his shirt, holding him in place. You turned your head to look at him, Lando’s head dropping to press sloppy kisses along your neck and you could feel something in your stomach dip.

“Please,” you murmured to him, the music pounding in the club but he heard you well enough. 

Without a second thought, Daniel was threading his fingers through your hair and tugging your head back before he leaned down to kiss you. 

It was far too much. To be squashed between them, their hands on you and their lips against you but, fuck, you never wanted them to stop. There was a passing, fleeting thought that anyone could see you and snap a picture, could shatter all three of your reputations in seconds but you didn’t care. And neither did your boys.

You didn’t want to choose, you didn’t want to break them. And they were more than happy to share.

.

[kimis-gloves]

Runnin' Home To You - read on ao3

The winter break. The time of year that either leaves people longing for more, or an appreciated break from the world of cars and speed. For Charles leclerc it's a different situation. During this time of year, he's apart from everything he loves, everyone he loves. The way he grabs onto charles when they share a podium, the looks they share while they achieve one of their few moments alone. Charles can't see his life in racing without Max Verstappen being there with him. From the early years of karting, Charles knew he loved max. His entire mind and way of thinking revolves around max. The way he races, the way he does not find any genuine attraction to anyone other than max. It's almost as if he's been poisoned and rotted by his fellow dutchman. 

After Abu Dhabi, Charles found himself not wanting to leave Max's side because he knew that once he did, it would be one of if not the last time he saw Max before the next season's testing. His heart ached everytime he had to spend time away from max. He wondered if Max ever felt the same way, he doubted that as he watched Max walk over to his new girlfriend, one that came upon somewhat suddenly. He watched as they hugged each other tightly, embracing the other's presence as Max exclaimed with joy after winning his fourth world drivers championship. When Max leans in to kiss her, Charles can't bear to watch as it just hurts too much to see the man he's loved for his entire life, act so affectionately to someone that isn't him. 

That was what Charles thought would be the last time he saw Max that year. He spent most of his winter break attempting to take his mind off of the fact that he is so in love with the boy who was sent from the stars. He spent nights laying in bed, deeply wishing Max was there with him. To laugh with and to hold, to stare into his oceans of eyes and tell him how right from the start, he was the light in the dark. 

But alas he can't. He lay there in his cold, empty bed and continued to wish. It's a colder & rainy night, not cold enough to snow. He listens to the droplets of rain rattle against his windows, as he turns over to face the moonlit & rain scattered window, he hears a loud, but stern knock at his apartment door. 

“What the-”

knock, knock, knock

2:37AM

After quickly checking his phone, Charles drags himsout of his bed, throwing on the nearest joggers and whatever loose tee he can get his hands on. As he's making his way towards his front door, hes wondering who on earth could be at his door at this hour, surely nobody import-

“Max?!”

“Charles.. May I please come in?”

“Oh, of course here..”

As Charles is making wax for Max, he's left utterly speechless as to why Max Verstappen is at his door, dripping wet with monacan rain, asking to be let in. surely there's no logical reason for this. 

“Max.. why are you here”

“Shit- charles im sorry, i knew it would be a mistake coming here.”

“No, talk to me.”

Charles brings them both over to the sofa, he offers max a drink but he abruptly declines

“So max, are you going to tell me why you've shown up at my doorstep, at 3 in the morning and soaking wet?”

“She left me, charles.”

‘Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, but it doesn't really explain why you're here like this.”

“Something in me just really needed to see you, I tried calling Daniel for a word of advice but nothing and nobody is helping. I guess I just- really needed to be with you for this. You understand, right?”

Charles is at a loss for words. THE max verstappen.. needed him?? He didn't know how to respond or how to feel about this information, all he could do was sit there and stare at his beloved, not noticing his gaze moving to the freckle on Max’s light pink lip. 

“Charles?”

“Uh- yes max. I get how you feel. Sometimes you just can't help but only want one specific person at times.”

“Yeah”

The two men sit there in silence, thoughts racing through minds. Max worries that he's making Charles uncomfortable so he's urged by his mind to get up and leave. He really doesn't want to, but he doesn't want to make his situation worse by ruining things with the person he genuinely loved. The person that was the root of his breakup with his now ex girlfriend.  

 - 40 minutes before -

“You only talk about charles!! Charles did this, Charles said that. Charles talked about these things and that person charles charles charles!! I’M supposed to be your girlfriend, not charles. I've had enough of being put second to somebody you're supposed to be rivals with. It's going to be either me or Charles, Max.”

Max did not respond to her, instead he walked out the door and walked straight to charles apartment where he knew charles would lie awake at that hour. 

Ever since Max was a young boy, he knew he had some types of feelings for charles. He didn't care about winning against the other racers, he only enjoyed racing against charles. Seeing the way Charles would be left frustrated after knowing Max is the only one he couldn't take on. He enjoyed the rush he got from teasing Charles of the win, knowing he would come out on top every single time. 

When Max met Kelly, he thought he had found it all, but soon he started to feel as if there was something missing. He felt empty. When he realized it was because of these feelings for Charles, he tried so desperately to ignore them but the more he tried the more he couldn't keep his mind, or his eyes off of charles. He thought Charles was the most beautiful thing to have ever existed. Charles was everything to max and max was everything to charles, but neither of the which knew of the others “secret”

—

“I think i should leave, im sorry charles”

“What? Why?’

“This was wrong. Enjoy your night.”

“Max”

Max turns towards the door aiming to leave but charles quickly follows and grabs max by the back of his shoulder

“Max.”

Brushing off Charles's hand, he stands there, slightly hovering over charles.

“Please stay” he says, looking up into the madness of max's eyes.

And that was all max needed to feel sure that coming here was, in fact, not a mistake. 

[glorious-spoon]

The kiss prompt had me feeling too much like a kid in a candy store, and I couldn't pick. I managed to narrow it down to three, hopefully one of them sparks joy?

…as a suggestion.

…after a small rejection.

…because they’re running out of time.

for buddie please 🩶

:D thank you! i went for 'a kiss after a small rejection', hope you enjoy!

-

Buck has been extremely supportive of Eddie's dating woes, in his opinion. He has been a good friend about it, listening sympathetically to the post-game of every date that fizzled out and every connection that failed to manifest. After Marisol, there was Raquel, and then Marta, and María, and Janelle. Then, maybe less shocking than it would have been a couple of years ago, there was Daniel, and Liam, and Álvaro. Eddie told him about the first of those dates with a glint in his eye that dared Buck to comment, so Buck didn't.

But it means that they're currently in this weird holding pattern where Buck knows that Eddie likes men, and—maybe more relevantly—is willing to consider dating a man, and they still haven't actually talked about it.

That's a conversation that should probably happen. Buck just doesn't know how to bring it up without immediately blurting everything out, without begging Eddie to consider him as an option. And if he does that, there's no coming back from it. If he does that, and Eddie says no, he doesn't know what'll happen. The world will end, or he'll die of mortification and disappointment, or something else unspeakably awful will occur. Maddie keeps telling him that he's catastrophizing, and he knows she's probably right, but that doesn't mean he can just make himself stop.

He's working on it.

Right now, Eddie is flopped across Buck's new couch—brown leather, wide and squashy and comfortable. Natalia helped him pick it out, and he feels a little weird about keeping it now, but the truth is that the couch turned out to be a better fit than the relationship. It's big enough for the two of them to sprawl on while they drink their beers and Eddie grumbles about his most recent date.

"I mean, you know, it was fine. Whatever," he says, with a huffy little shrug. Buck loves Eddie in every mood, but there's something especially charming about him when he's being petulant like this. Maybe because it's such a contrast to the calm, in-control face he presents to the rest of the world. Buck's not the only person who gets to have this part of Eddie, but he is a member of a select group.

"So no second date?" he asks, trying not to sound hopeful.

"He said I was 'a nice guy, but he didn't feel a connection'," Eddie says, with sarcastic one-handed finger-quotes. He takes another sullen pull on his beer.

"That's not so bad," Buck offers. Eddie's dates don't usually crash and burn the way Buck's have a tendency to, or did back when he was actually trying to date. People like Eddie. He's polite and kind and thoughtful, and reserved in a way that comes across as mysterious and fascinating instead of aloof. And that's without even getting into the fact that he looks like a fucking model, but most people know that part before they go out with him. Buck has no idea how anybody could go on a date with Eddie and not immediately fall head over heels in love with him, but he is admittedly a little biased.

"Yeah, I know," Eddie sighs. He pushes himself upright and tilts his head back against the couch, cradling his beer between his palms. "I know, it's not like I really wanted a second date either. It's just…"

"Rejection sucks?" Buck offers.

"That too. Mostly I'm just wondering how long I'm going to have to keep doing this before I find somebody I can have a connection with? Like, with Shannon, it was—"

"—bolt of lightning out of the blue?" Buck asks, because that was how it felt for him, with Eddie. That moment outside the ambulance, Eddie's blinding smile and warm handshake and the way something in him cracked wide open then and never really went away.

Eddie huffs. "Kind of. But—we were friends first. We already had that connection. You know? And then one day I looked at her and I felt like—"

He stops abruptly. If Buck wasn't already watching him, he'd probably miss the way Eddie's eyes flick toward him, and then away.

His stomach feels suddenly like he's on a rollercoaster, in giddy freefall.

"Like you were seeing something completely new?" he asks. He folds his hand tight around his beer, but he can feel it trembling.

Eddie takes a deep, visible breath, then nods and leans forward to set his beer down before turning back toward Buck.

"Yeah," he says quietly, and Buck is almost completely sure that they're not just talking about Shannon anymore. Eddie's face is open, his gaze clear, but Buck knows him well enough to detect the faint hint of nerves there.

That's the thing that finally gives him the courage to do what maybe he should have a long time ago.

"Can you just, uh." He clears his throat, then sets his beer down too. "Tell me if I'm totally misreading this?"

"Yeah, okay," Eddie whispers, but he doesn't pull back. Not when Buck shifts closer on the couch; not when he reaches out to settle a hand on Eddie's cheek, and not when he leans in to press a chaste, careful kiss to Eddie's lips.

It lingers softly for a moment, and then he pulls back and opens his eyes. Eddie blinks a couple of times, then smiles, sudden and bright.

"You're not misreading it," he says, and leans in to kiss Buck again.

(for these kiss prompts)

[ofthecaravel]

Brandy

Chapter Four

Summary: A port on a western bay serves a hundred ships a day, and the lonely sailors flock to the Caravel Cantina, run by the Kiszka brothers (minus one). But when their brother returns with a handsome sailor in tow, the youngest Kiszka brother finds his perspective about his family and himself turned upside down.

Tags: Nothing but good vibes tbh

Words: 5.4k

A/N: This is my apology for the last chapter. My bad! Enjoy.

~~~

After two hours, the sun had finally started to peek through the heavy clouds. Though it had continued to drizzle, Sam and Daniel had decided to brave the weather and grab a quick lunch at the pub attached to the inn. Due to the weather and it being the middle of the work day, there weren't many patrons, and Sam picked a corner booth for them to eat quickly where nobody would bother them. Now that he knew why Daniel wasn't keen on public places during the day, Sam felt the inherent need to help blanket his presence with the antisocial cues he'd picked up over the years that he used to go unbothered in public. At lunch, Daniel spoke in hushed tones as he regaled Sam with his sailor's stories, and with each tale, Sam swore he could see the ocean fall and rise in his eyes. As Daniel got lost in the details of near death encounters and simple fishing trips, Sam could see the sea and all her raging glory. 

Sam had a few drinks with his meal, and when they'd returned to Daniel's room, he felt the liquor sitting warmly in his stomach and smiled at the calm it spread through his body. He'd been so wound up the whole day that it felt good to finally feel present in his body. Sam sat on the chair set up next to the record player and tucked his legs to his chest, resting his cheek on his knee with a dopey smile as Daniel locked the door behind them and tossed the keys onto the dresser. When he saw Sam curled up on the chair, he gave him a crooked smile and a questioning eyebrow raise.

"What?" Daniel laughed.

"Nothing," Sam chirped. "Wow, did they really provide a record player without any vinyl to play on it? What a scam."

"It came with one on it but I haven't played it yet," Daniel answered, lifting the glass lid and gently moving the record already on the platter. 

"Play it," Sam said, his demand coming out more like a gentle request. Daniel nodded without a word and turned it on, lifting and then dropping the needle as the record began to spin gently. A burst of soft crackles faded into a quiet orchestral suite, and Sam nodded along to it as Daniel sat on the edge of the bed closest to him. He began tapping the percussion onto his knee as they listened in rapt silence and Sam found himself tracking and humming the low notes as the music swelled.

"Before you ask," Sam blurted suddenly, startling Daniel but not interrupting his rhythmic tapping. "I don't dance."

"I wasn't going to ask," Daniel assured him with a grin, his eyes darting around the wall in front of him like it was plastered in sheet music he was following. "I don't dance either."

"It's just, I wouldn't put it past you to ask," Sam continued. "So I figured I'd clear it up."

"Fair enough," Daniel chuckled, and they settled into another spell of quiet as the record moved onto the next track, a romantic woodwind heavy song that furled and flirted. For some reason he couldn't put words to, it made Sam's cheeks burn in embarrassment, and he opted to avert his eyes from Daniel as he lolled his head against the back of the chair. His braids, now frizzy from the rain and humidity, pressed uncomfortably into his skull and he leaned forward again to pull loose their ribbons. Sam worked his fingers against the tight ribs of the plaits and loosened them, pulling free two curtains of waves that he finger combed together. When he looked up, Daniel was watching him with an odd glint in his eye. His pupils were wide but his lids were low as Sam shook his hair back and shot Daniel a grimace.

"What?"

"You're pretty."

Sam thought back to that first conversation at the jukebox only a few days ago when Daniel had said the same thing. He recognized the look in his eye now. He had seen it then, too. Sam didn't say anything but held his gaze, resting his head on his knee again and allowing himself to really look at Daniel. He mentally traced the shadow of his collarbones pressing against his shirt and the moisture still clinging to his curls as they framed his sharp face. 

"Like a mermaid," Daniel went on in a way that Sam expected to lilt upwards into a joke, but instead Daniel swallowed nervously and let his eyes flit to Sam's mouth for a moment as Sam's lips parted.

"I'm no mermaid," Sam insisted, his voice soft and gravelly.  

"You're as pretty as one," Daniel insisted. 

"You said that already," Sam pointed out with a coy smile. "Uh, so are you."

Daniel blinked in surprise at Sam's admission, leaning back but never tearing his eyes from Sam's.

"Complimenting me twice in one day?" Daniel mused. "Should we call someone about making it a national holiday? I mean, this is unheard of."

"Oh, shut up, I'm trying," Sam sputtered, pushing his hair out of his face anxiously. "We can't all be smooth talkers like you."

"I triple dog dare you to compliment me one more time before the day is done. Three is a holy number, you know."

"Are you a pious man, Daniel?"

Daniel grinned wickedly at that.

"I'm a fucking angel," Daniel said, and the grit in his tone sent a flash of heat through Sam.  

"As if," Sam challenged, giving Daniel an unimpressed look. Daniel shot it right back to him. 

"I thought I asked you to compliment me, not insult me," Daniel remarked. "You've done enough of that."

"Alright," Sam huffed, sitting up straight and taking advantage of the courage his adrenaline was supplying him with. "Just because you have an angel face doesn't mean you're an angel. There's a compliment and an insult to balance it out. Happy?"

"Yes," Daniel beamed. "You think I have an angel face."

"Shut up," Sam repeated dumbly, his nerves short circuiting his brain once again. 

"What should we do instead, then?"

Daniel wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at Sam to let him know that his words had no real bite to them if Sam didn't want them to. 

This made it all the more satisfying for Sam to watch his eyes widen in surprise when Sam abruptly stood up, straddled Daniel, cupped his cheeks and connected their lips all in one flurry of motion. 

Daniel gasped against his mouth and grabbed frantically at Sam, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of Sam's waist and pulling him into his chest, causing them to tip backwards and land with Daniel flat on his back and Sam hovering over him. They both laughed against each other's lips, knowing there were plenty of jokes to be made in this situation, but neither making any move to separate. Sam dove his hand into the pool of Daniel's waves and grasped them at the root, holding his head in place while he rained down a barrage of feverish, open mouthed kisses that Daniel received with smiling lips and panting breath. Sam hadn't kissed anyone since he was a kid, but with Daniel, it was like this was all they knew how to do together. It was a natural rhythm they moved to, with Daniel pressing their bodies together as Sam held them steady. Finally, Sam came up for air, his hair wild and his mouth pink and wet with spit as he struggled to breathe. Daniel stared up at him unblinking, his face painted with pure bliss and his hair fanned out around him like a painting.

"You were never going to kiss me first," Sam gasped between breaths. "Were you?"

"No," Daniel breathed raggedly, his hands smoothing up and down Sam's sides, eventually pushing up the thin fabric of his shirt to do so without a barrier. "Never."

"You're so..." Sam shook his head, not sure where that sentence was supposed to go. 

"Yeah, same to you," Daniel agreed, knowing in the way that he always did.

Sam was lost for a moment, staring into the depths of Daniel's face, only snapping out of it when Daniel pitifully knit his brows and tightened his grip on Sam's skin.

"Sam," he pleaded simply, and Sam couldn't help but indulge him, dipping down again and giving Daniel a much softer, lighter kiss. They both sighed into it, moving slowly and intentionally as Daniel licked over the dip in Sam's bottom lip and gently slid his tongue into Sam's mouth, who accepted it with a quiet whine. If he hadn't been so caught up in the moment, Sam would've found this involuntary noise completely humiliating, but Daniel rewarded him with a muffled groan of his own. Sam tested this, allowing another whimper to escape when Daniel squeezed his hips. Daniel proved his hypothesis with the manic way he sat up and suddenly flipped Sam, who landed on his back with a squeal and giggled into Daniel's mouth. His giggle was cut short and morphed into his loudest whine yet when Daniel's mouth left his own and traveled down Sam's neck, leaving behind a trail of feather light kisses that sent shockwaves through Sam's entire body. He'd thought the strain in his pants was the most sensitive spot on his body right then, but he decided it was definitely his neck, unable to keep himself from whispering a stream of praises as Daniel nipped at the base of his neck and kissed his way back up to tender spots at the corners of his jaw.

"I bet," Sam started, struggling to form words as Daniel pushed his shirt up further and ghosted his fingertips over Sam's smooth skin. "That move must drive your girls in other ports crazy."

"What?" Daniel asked absently as he kissed along Sam's collarbone.

"You know what they say, that a sailor has a girl in every port," Sam joked breathlessly.

Daniel moved away from Sam's skin, giving Sam a shockingly serious and earnest expression as he looked down at Sam. His hand moved up and brushed Sam's hair off his forehead, twisting his wrist to graze his knuckles along the outline of Sam's cheek and jawline.

"I don't have girls in other ports," Danny rasped sincerely, his eyes dancing over Sam's features. "I have you. In this port. If, uh, you'll have me."

Sam's face heated up and he linked his arms around Danny's neck, unabashedly shining his full, unrestrained smile up at him. 

"Yeah," Sam hummed softly. "Sure. I'll have you."

"Good," Daniel responded. "I mean, you know I can't stay."

"I know," Sam whispered, his stomach sinking a little at the thought that Daniel would be gone in only a few days. He recalled something Daniel had said at lunch and repeated it. "No harbor is your home."

"Nope," Daniel agreed, his mind drifting as he skimmed Sam's bottom lip with his thumb. "But, I mean, you know I've been sailing this whole time for you, right?"

"Fuckin' liar," Sam insisted, kissing the tip of Daniel's thumb. "You just met me."

"But I was waiting for a while before that. I knew there was something out there worth risking a life at sea for and here you are. I just have this feeling you're that 'something', Sam."

"Daniel," Sam protested, overwhelmed and flustered at Daniel's words. 

"I'm serious!" Daniel laughed, rolling off of Sam and laying next to him, propping himself up on an elbow. "You feel it, too. Admit it. You like me. You really, actually like me."

"Danny," Sam whined, covering his face with his hands. 

"Danny?" Daniel echoed with amusement. "You know, I've always hated that nickname. It feels so childish. But I actually like it when you say it."

"Yeah?"

Sam turned onto his side and put a hand on Daniel's cheek, tipping his chin down to look straight into his eyes.

"Danny," Sam breathed teasingly, drawing out every syllable in a sing-song melody. Daniel's eyes fluttered and Sam felt the skin under his fingers grow warm. 

"Sammy," Daniel breathed back in the same cadence, letting Sam drag him down into another long, spit slicked kiss that left Sam unconsciously arching up off the blankets and into Daniel's needy touch. 

"Stay," Daniel murmured against Sam's lips, lifting his own shirt up to press their bare chests together as Daniel leaned against him again. Sam shuddered at the welcome sensation of Daniel's chest hair tickling his own smooth chest, snaking his arm around Daniel's torso and tracing shapes around the muscles on the toned expanse of his back. 

"You stay," Sam countered, pouting.

"I want to," Danny muttered longingly, giving Sam a few more kisses before speaking again. "I do. But I have a job. That ship would fall apart without me."

"You're a model pirate," Sam teased, and laughed when Daniel rolled his eyes. "I'm serious! You're an inspiration. You should write a book."

"Ssh," Daniel shushed, his arm wrapping around Sam as he started planting a score of soft kisses on Sam's cheek and jaw. His voice was strained and quiet in Sam's ear, sending a plume of warm breath across Sam's skin that made him shiver and rake his nails against Daniel's back. "I don't know how long I get to have you like this."

"You dog," Sam accused with a giggle, his laugh cutting off into a shaking gasp as Daniel's tongue darted out against the hollow of his throat.

"Oh, please," Daniel hummed gruffly against his skin. "I bought your lunch. I'll even cover your shift for you tonight."

"Ssh," Sam mocked, cupping Daniel's face. "Kiss me."

"As you wish," Daniel smiled, doing just that and a little (a lot) more.

 -

Once the sky was brushed in mauve tones of the setting sun, Daniel walked Sam home, looking both ways down the road before giving Sam another kiss.

"You ready to handle this?" Daniel asked quietly, sensing Sam's apprehension at walking back into the fray of his family. Sam nodded in affirmation, but his heart was fluttering in his chest as he speculated about what exactly he was about to walk into. Had Josh calmed down at all? Was Jake even still there? 

"Hey, it'll be alright," Daniel purred, tucking one of Sam's wild waves behind his ear. "And if it's not, you know you have somewhere calm to sleep tonight if you need it. I'll wait up for you."

"You don't need to do that," Sam insisted. 

"I'll do it anyways," Daniel answered with a smile, and Sam's heart ached longingly. 

"You sap," Sam teased, patting Daniel on the shoulder before turning his body towards the door. "Thank you. For that, but also for today. You're sweet."

"And you're getting sweeter by the minute," Daniel fawned, gently tapping Sam's chin with his finger as Sam groaned and stuck his key in the lock.

"Oh, please, don't gi-" Sam was cut off by the resistance in the door when he attempted to swing it open, looking down curiously as he tried to push the door again. It felt like something was blocking it, and Daniel followed Sam's gaze as he jiggled the doorknob. 

"What the fuck?" Sam whispered, knocking against the door in annoyance and jumping when he was met with the loud crow of a chicken peppered with loud shuffling and muffled cursing. The door swung open from the other side, held open by a ruffled looking Josh and Clarice the chicken curled up in the crook of his arm. 

"Sam!" Josh cried, rushing forward and giving Sam a side hug with his free arm, effectively pulling him into the house. "Oh, my god, come in, where have you been? I was worried fucking sick! I've been sitting in front of the door for, what, 3 hours now just waiting for you to get home."

"I went to the inn and got lunch with Daniel," Sam paused nervously. "And, uh, dinner, too."

"Hi," Daniel piped up sheepishly, still waiting awkwardly in the doorway outside. Josh looked at him past Sam's shoulder, looked back up at Sam, looked back at Daniel and then smiled smugly up at Sam.

"Something tells me you had dessert, too, huh?" Josh whispered, leaning his head so that Daniel couldn't see his toothy grin when he said it. Sam glared at his brother, his face flushing with heat. 

"Shut up," Sam hissed through his teeth, turning towards Daniel as Josh tried and failed miserably to wipe the cheeky smile off his face. "Thanks for walking me home, Danny. I'll see you in a few hours, yeah?"

"Yeah," Daniel confirmed, waving to Josh again. "Good to see you! Give Jake my best!"

"Mmhm!" Josh hummed through closed lips, waving enthusiastically as Daniel strolled away. Josh reached his arm past Sam and closed the door loudly, giving Sam another amused look as Sam looked over his head in an attempt to stave off the inevitable questioning and teasing he knew was coming. 

"What was that about?" Josh squealed in a failed attempt at a hushed tone. Clarice ruffled in his arms as he followed Sam from the door to the couch, sitting down harshly and sending a few stray feathers from Clarice cartoonishly up into the air. 

“What was what about?" Sam asked innocently, unlacing his shoes and kicking them off. He refused to meet Josh's eye as he shrugged off his coat and hung it up, keeping his eyes on the wall while he felt Josh's eyes burning a hole through his back.

"That tension!" Josh hissed, mock gasping and clutching a hand to his heart. "I mean, my god, the way that kid just looked at you. He looked like he wanted to take a bite out of you. It was disgustingly cute. Mostly disgusting, though."

"Oh my god, nothing happened!" Sam scoffed unconvincingly. "I can't have a friend?"

"Who are you fooling with that? 'Friend'...oh, please," Josh chuckled, shaking his head in dismissal. "I know you, dumbass. I know when you're sweet on someone."

"I'm never 'sweet' on anyone," Sam countered. 

"Exactly!"

Sam groaned and sat next to Josh on the couch, startling Clarice again and sending her scrambling out of Josh's arms and half running-half flying to the kitchen. The brothers watched her in quiet entertainment before Sam sighed and rubbed his neck.

"Hey, uh, before anything else," Sam started hesitantly. "Is everything okay here?"

It was Josh's turn to sigh, tucking his knee to his chest as he thought.

"Jake's been locked up in his room for the time I was out here waiting for you," Josh said calmly, shrugging. "I still don't know what I'm going to say to him."

"Me neither," Sam answered quietly, pausing before he spoke again. "We were pretty hard on him, huh?"

"I guess," Josh agreed begrudgingly. "It's just such an extreme situation I figured it warranted that same extremity back. But, I mean, fuck, man. It's Jake. I can't stay mad at him. And if he says he's being safe, then he's probably being safe. You know I worry about him more than I should."

"I do, too," Sam assured him. "And we can be mad about it, too. But he's here right now and I think we should spend time with him while we know for sure that he's safe."

"You're right." Josh smiled at Sam, crinkling his eyebrows thoughtfully. "How did you turn out so smart?"

"I guess I was raised by smart people," Sam replied with a shy smile in return.

"Aww," Josh cooed, leaning his head against Sam's shoulder. "Shucks."

"Come on, let's go get our questionably smart brother," Sam announced, standing up and leaving Josh to lean over and fall on his side on the cushions. He sighed in agreement and rolled dramatically onto the floor before getting to his feet and following Sam to Jake's door. They gave each other a nervous look before Sam rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Jake?" Sam called. There was no response, so he opened the door and found Jake face down on his bed, one of his legs hanging off the edge and his arms buried under his pillow.

"Come on, Jake, up and at 'em," Josh urged, sitting on the mattress with a cheerful bounce.

Jake gave a muffled grunt in response, snuffling wetly and not moving an inch. 

"We're not mad anymore," Sam insisted, sitting cross legged on the floor by the head of the bed. 

"Concerned, yes, but not mad," Josh added, and Jake groaned. "Oh, for Christ's sake, Jake, we don't think you're some evil pirate villain."

"We do think you're stupid, though."

"A little, yes."

"But that's only 'cause we love you!"

"So much!"

Jake finally lifted his head from his pillow, and his brothers physically recoiled when they saw Jake's pink face puffy from tears, lined with wrinkles from the pillow and sweaty hair glued to his forehead. He looked absolutely pathetic and worn down and Sam immediately burst into raucous laughter. Josh's laughter escaped as a loud stream of air whistled its way out from between his clamped lips and Jake scoffed loudly at their reactions as he sat up.

"Some family you are!" Jake cried and Sam launched into another round of hysterics, falling back onto the rug as Josh clamped a supportive hand on Jake's shoulder but failed to let out any coherent words of affirmation, giggling whenever he tried to speak.  

"You look like Rip Van Winkle after his 20 year slumber," Sam wheezed. 

"Yeah, I was weeping because my family was furious with me," Jake explained slowly, sitting up while Sam and Josh attempted to contain their laughs. "And now said family is laughing at my sorrows."

"I'm sorry, Jake," Josh lamented, wrapping his arms around Jake's shoulders and nuzzling his curls against Jake's ear. "Your sorrows are just really funny looking."

"You're funny looking."

"No, you're funny looking."

"We're all funny looking," Sam said, leaning forward and joining in the brotherly embrace by resting his chin on Jake's knee. "Sorry, Jake."

"No, no, I'm sorry," Jake sighed, combing his damp hair with his fingers. "I shouldn't have lied to you guys, and I'm really sorry about that. I don't like lying, I just knew you'd get upset."

"And we did," Josh agreed, Sam nodding along with him. "You know it's because we care. Just...next time you become a swashbuckling pirate captain, please tell us."

"I will, I will," Jake finally laughed. "I love you idiots a lot, you know that?"

"We love you too," Sam hummed, and Jake patted his head. Josh crushed Jake in a hug until Jake started to wheeze for breath and haphazardly slapped his twin off of him, who kept his arms locked around him as they began to tussle. 

"Avast, ye scurvy dog!" Josh crowed in a stereotypical pirate voice as Jake pushed back against him, sending Sam into another laughing fit. He leaned back and watched his older brothers bicker and eventually roll off the bed onto the carpet as Josh chuckled and Jake clawed out of his embrace. 

"We don't even talk like that," Jake protested, chuckling breathlessly. "You'd be surprised."

"Do you have a skull and crossbones flag?" Sam asked, sitting cross legged attentively. 

"No," Jake answered patiently. Sam frowned. 

"Lame," Sam said in disappointment. "Daniel said you did."

"Daniel is a damn dirty liar, then. When did he say that?"

"Over lunch."

Jake's eyes widened and Josh's impish grin returned as Sam realized what he had done.

"Over lunch?" Jake parroted, his voice lilting in shock. "When did you have lunch?"

"Today," Sam answered coolly, ignoring Josh's silent kissy faces. "We hung out while I was mad."

"Wait, you were out that entire time?" Jake gasped, Josh's glee visibly heightening as Sam shrank back. "So, what, 9am to 6pm?"

"So?" Sam squeaked out, already breaking out in sweats from this interrogation. Whenever the twins cornered him, they always got the information that they wanted. Sam didn't even know how they did it. Together, they could weave together the perfect trap that Sam fell into every single time. 

"And you were getting lunch?" Jake continued.

"He also mentioned dinner," Josh chimed in. "So, lunch and dinner."

"Okay, lunch and dinner," Jake confirmed as they leaned back against the side of the bed in perfect sync. "My, my. That's a lot of time between those two meals. What did you two get up to?"

"We got rained in," Sam answered truthfully, keeping his face as neutral as he could, shrugging casually as he spoke. "Listened to a record, talked about pirate shit."

"He's telling the truth," Jake mumbled, narrowing his eyes to analyze Sam. Sam smiled innocently, wondering if this would be the first time he could actually get away with a secret that was all his own. 

"Hm," Josh grumbled, raising an eyebrow at Sam as a smile crept back onto his face. "So nothing else happened?"

Sam floundered for a moment too long, and he immediately knew he was screwed. Instantly, the twins descended on him in a flurry of triumphant yells and questions.

"I knew it! I knew it! Tell me everything!" Jake hollered, shaking Sam's knee. Sam kicked at them and backed up until he was flush with the wall. 

"There's nothing to tell!" Sam insisted, his voice hitting a shrill range that made him sound even guiltier. Jake and Josh's eyes were flaring brightly and Sam knew that it was going to take a lot more than that to get them to back down. 

"You lie!" Josh argued. "Spill. Did you hold hands?"

"No." Sam spat. 

"Did you kiss?" Jake asked.

Sam clammed up.

"You did!" Josh cheered, smacking Sam on the shoulder and then retracting it just as fast. "Aw, but also ew!"

"No details, have mercy," Jake pleaded, yet continued on his rampage. "But, like, was it good?"

"Ew!" Sam shrieked. "Why do you want to know, you perv?"

"Because I'm nosy!"

"I am also nosy," Josh added with an affirming head shake. 

"I'm well aware, thank you," Sam snapped, cheeks flushing hotly as he feigned supreme annoyance. 

"So?" Jake prodded, both in questioning and with a physical poking of Sam's arm. "Good? Bad? Yes? No?"

"It..." Sam trailed off, mortified beyond words. "It, well, okay, listen-"

"It couldn't have been bad," Josh decided, exchanging a nod with Jake. "You can tell Daniel knows what he's doing. I mean, and excuse me for this, Sam, but awooga." 

"Yeah, no, you need to lock that down, Sammy," Jake agreed sagely. "What if we meet some mermaids? You don't want them stealing your man away from you."

"I'm not worried about that," Sam noted mysteriously, a touch of pride in his voice as he recalled Daniel's mermaid comparison from earlier. 

"Awful confident, aren't we?" Jake teased.

"And yet, you won't tell us anything to give us motivation to back up this confidence," Josh sighed dramatically, side eyeing Sam pitifully in an attempt to pry out more information.

"I thought mum was the word on details, you freaks," Sam said haughtily. 

"We'll start worrying about details when you tell us one singular thing," Jake retorted impatiently. "So far that has not happened. Spill."

"Spill," Josh repeated. Sam let out a deep, deep sigh and rolled his eyes petulantly.

"Well..." Sam started, looking up at the ceiling as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. "I'll have you know I made the first move."

"Now that's a plot twist," Jake laughed as Josh let out a long, low whistle. "Nice to hear you have some guts. I mean, it's news to me, but, wow."

"Do you want me to tell you my salacious escapades or would you prefer to keep teasing me?" Sam snipped, crossing his arms. Jake and Josh exchanged a genuine look of consideration.

"Is 'both' an option?" Jake asked.

"I'd love to do both," Josh agreed. 

"Fuck off, the 'both' of you," Sam whined, weakly kicking at them again. "Now you get nothing."

"Noo," Josh booed. "Come on, one more thing. Then we'll leave you alone."

"Swear to God," Jake promised, and both he and Josh covered their hearts with very serious expressions. Sam sighed again and opted to hide his face behind his hand as he spoke.

"He, uh," Sam went on, hiding his face further in his hand as he powered through. "We kissed. I don't know how long but it was, you know, it was fine. It was...good."

Instantly, the twins recoiled and launched into a loud, theatrical cacophony of overlapping cries and gags. Josh fell backwards, slowly sliding down the side of the bed with a faux death rattle in his throat as Jake shook his head and repeated pleas for Sam to 'spare him'.

"You asked!" Sam shrieked, his body burning from head to toe with flames of embarrassment as his brothers writhed and moaned. They only broke their façade for a moment so they could indulge in the joy of seeing Sam crumple up and scowl at them.

"It was just so graphic," Josh insisted, a smile breaking through his howls of agony. "I mean, the thought of you kissing anybody is foul."

"Kissing is a sacred act," Jake explained, feigning grief as he rubbed his temples. "Now it's forever tainted in my brain."

"YOU told ME to go out with him!" Sam squealed, kicking Jake on the shoulder. "YOU asked to hear about it!"

"Did not!"

Sam let out a wordless howl of frustration and the twins bubbled over with satisfied cackles as Sam struggled to get to his feet, their laughs rising an octave as his socks slipped against the hardwood and he struggled to get the traction he needed. 

"I," Sam snapped, throwing open Jake's door. "Am going to get ready for work. Because I am a responsible adult."

"Okay, okay, but remember," Josh said, wagging a finger at Sam. "I expect you and that pirate boy to keep your hands off each other at work."

“Fuck off!”

Sam listened to his brothers continue to giggle and talk quietly as he stalked off towards his room and rolled his eyes. However, the second his door was shut, he couldn’t help but let his face split into a huge smile as he fell face first onto the bed. With a moment of quiet to himself for the first time all day, Sam let his brain replay every precious moment from his afternoon with Daniel that he could possibly remember. He wondered absently if he should write it all down, just so that he could keep the imagery of every glossy curl that swung in his face and the cadence of every breathy word from Daniel fresh in his mind. Sam’s face burned as he stayed buried in his pillow, trying desperately to keep a little exclamation of excitement from erupting as he thought of Daniel waiting for him at work. God, how was he supposed to focus during his shift? Having done what he’d done and not being able to dive deeper like he wanted to? It was going to be torture. Delicious, delicious torture. 

-

The night had passed slowly, and despite being distinctly aware that Josh and Jake were constantly on the verge of throwing a glass at his head, Sam had been absolutely unbearable and proud of it. Daniel had kept his promise and tried to cover as much of Sam’s tables as possible, but every spare moment was spent tossing glances back and forth and flirting unabashedly. After a particularly ridiculous giggle from Sam at something Daniel had whispered in his ear, Sam had heard Jake mutter something to Josh about a suicide pact, which Josh had accompanied with a gagging noise. 

But Sam didn’t care. He couldn’t care. He was fully aware of how unlike himself he was behaving, but he felt loyal to the compulsion to sink completely into the feeling that Daniel gave him. When walking home, Daniel and Sam strode far ahead of the twins, lost in their own little world. When Daniel talked with Jake for an extra 10 minutes about a Friday night dinner plan, Sam had clung to Daniel’s arm, listening quietly for maybe the first time in his life with his cheek pressed to Daniel’s bicep. When the twins were inside, Sam felt the world melt away into irrelevance when Daniel gave him a goodnight kiss on the front step that turned into two or twenty. And when Sam’s head hit the pillow, he felt every muscle in his body finally relax and his mind let him sleep. A deep sleep at that, one that dreams didn’t even touch, and even in this sleep Sam wished that it would last forever.

~~~

[desertfangs]

Armand and Daniel’s sexual journey is definitely fascinating (I don’t think we have as much info on another mlm couple in VC except maybe for Armand and Marius?), and something that should be explored more in fic! During the first years of the chase they merely talked about sex during their night sessions right? With Armand mentioning he had more than enough experience when it came to the “pleasure of the flesh”, but that eventually turned into a shared physical experience aka the threesomes with Daniel sleeping with the people Armand chose for him while he watched, and there was a “dual pleasure” in that, and then at some point they went from that to Daniel being an “expert” in Armand’s body and them being openly sexual with one another without the need of a third. Clearly stuff happened there. So many gaps to fill!

Anon! This is a great ask! Devil's Minion is a conundrum because it gives us so much and yet so little at the same time.

It's heavily implied that Armand doesn't bite him or drink his blood until Pompeii four years on, which I can believe. But for a long time, I also assumed they didn't get physical before then in any way. I don't know why I assumed this. It just felt like "Okay, Pompeii is where they come together" and I can be pretty literal, but at that point it strikes Daniel that they're "secret lovers" and have been for a while. He realizes Armand won't turn him but won't kill him either and Armand tells him he's grown to love him, of course.

This can totally mean they didn't really get physical until then, but it doesn't mean they didn't either. Like four years is a long time. Even if you think the first year was a wash of him freaking Daniel out and the second was them growing to have actual conversations, that's a long time to spend in each other's company with nothing ever happening. Especially when they're having deep, long conversations and Daniel is... well... Daniel. He's clearly captivated by Armand, who is coming into his hotel rooms and waking him up and jumping on his bed to talk about sex, war, and what he thinks happens after death. There's so much intimacy there! And no, you don't need sex for things to get deep and intimate, but there is definitely room for things to have happened.

(In fact, @apoptoses explores this beautifully in her Come Pull My Strings series which you've probably read but if not, uh... yeah... That was what made me really sit up and go 'You know, I think they probably did do these kinds of things, like why didn't I ever think they had before?? It makes so much sense???' I'd imagined Daniel maybe drunkenly going for a kiss or something but oof. That rocked my fandom world.)

And then yes, after they're together, they do have threesomes to explore intimacy:

Men and women fell in love with Armand, of course, "so innocent, so passionate, so brilliant!" You don't say. In fact, Armand's power to seduce was almost beyond his control. And it was Daniel who must bed these unfortunates, if Armand could possibly arrange it, while he watched from a chair nearby, a dark-eyed Cupid with a tender approving smile. Hot, nerve-searing, this witnessed passion, Daniel working the other body with ever greater abandon, aroused by the dual purpose of every intimate gesture. Yet he lay empty afterwards, staring at Armand, resentful, cold.

So it seems like in most cases, people were horny AF for Armand and Armand was like "Yeah, let's go back to our place" and he'd watch Daniel sleep with them instead. We don't know if that's the only way they arranged these things or if Daniel ever picked anyone out himself. I do think Daniel was down for it, especially at first, because I think he and Armand share a lot of kinks, including voyeurism, and the thing about him being aroused by the dual purpose of it really gets me. Like there's the physical pleasure, but there's also the fact that Armand is watching and possibly looking into his mind and maybe experiencing some of it too and that's clearly a huge turn on for Daniel. Also I jut want to mention that a lot is made in fandom of that last line about resentment, so I won't get off topic but I do want to say I think his resentment there is that he's sleeping with other people when he wants to sleep with Armand. It's Armand's hand/mouth/body he wants around him, you know? Not some rando's. And also possibly that he wants immortality and to be a vampire like Armand, rather than the mortal who's getting his rocks off this way because Armand cannot or won't. Probably both, to be honest. But I could write a whole essay on that!

Anyhow, at some point this shifts and Daniel gets what he wants because we do learn that "But he was an expert on Armand, wasn't he, he had studied every detail of Armand's youthful body and face."

I mean, again, there's a lot of room for interpretation and reading between the lines but every detail seems to point to like... every detail.

Which is a long way of saying yes!! You're right! So. Many. Gaps. To Fill. And so much space for how you read things or want to read them or want to imagine them. Which is why it's so nice to get a variety of fic and stuff from this era, because there's so much space to play!

[jennay]

Tension

Request:

misc 4 with enemies to lovers reader and jamie when they're at the same party at jamie's friend place and they're arguing about something or just can't stand each other lol and then somehow they end up smoking together outside or whatever you come up with!! and they also end up kissing because that's all they really want<3 you can change whatever you don't like or if you have something different in mind of course!<33

Master List

word count: 1540

Hope you enjoy :)

House parties haven't been your scene in years. The last one you went to, you were twenty-five, ending in chaos you will never forget. You showed up because Amanda, your cousin, and her boyfriend Daniel invited you and threatened to bring the party to your house if you didn't.

Arriving, you searched high and low for Amanda but didn't find her. The blond was highly social and could be anywhere in the crowd. You weren't willing to weave in and out of the sea of people to find her.

Instead, you find yourself walking to the fridge and grabbing a beer. You lean against the counter, now scrolling through your phone, hoping that Daniel or Amanda will eventually spot you.

"Well, well, well...You made it." You hear an all too familiar voice say. "I wondered if you'd show."

Your eyes drift from your phone screen and land on the man in front of you. Smirking, you say, "Wouldn't miss a chance to see my favorite Bower." You open your arms and give Sam a tight hug.

Sam releases you from his tight squeeze and adjusts his beanie. "Have you seen him yet?" His sneaky smile makes you roll your eyes.

Of course, Jamie is here. Daniel promised you he wouldn't invite him, but you should've known he would invite his best friend. Your lips and nose scrunch together like the idea of being in the same room as Jamie makes you sick. "Nah!" You yell over the loud music. "I don't plan on looking for him either."

Sam nods, "That's fair." He leans forward, his lips close to your ear, "You want to go sit on the deck? It's not as loud out there, and I think the last I saw Amanda was in the hot tub taking shots with a few stragglers." He laughs.

You follow closely behind Sam; him being taller than you makes it easier to push through the crowd. When you see Amanda, she is drunk in the hot tub, taking a shot with Daniel and another friend you haven't met.

Amanda's gaze rises to yours, and she brightly smiles. "Get in the hot tub!" She stands up, waving you over with her hands. "No, thanks. I'm fully dressed." You say, pointing to your clothes. "I'm not drunk enough to get naked. Besides, I'm hanging out with Sam."

"That would be a sight to see..."

You swiftly turn around, already annoyed by the voice behind you. "Not a sight you'll ever see." You take a swig of your drink and walk by Jamie without another word.

"Darling, most of us have already seen the view. You're not special." He chides.

You briefly stop turning your head and look back at him. A laugh of disbelief escaped your lips, "You should watch it. Don't forget I know about your LITTLE secret." Your eyes drop to his pants, and you sarcastically smile. "I'm probably not the last woman you disappointed, but I guess I was the first." You open the sliding glass door, and instantly the music pours into your ears. You feel Jamie following you, but you don't give a shit. When he catches up to you, he grabs you by your wrist and drags you to the staircase.

"What's your problem?" He asks, getting close to your face. "You disappeared from my life! I should be the one mad at you!"

You sit down on the stairs, knowing he wouldn't let this go. How he didn't remember one of your life's most heartbreaking days was unbearable.

You remember it clearly, and till this day, when you think about it, it still stung.

Jamie invited you to his band practice knowing that you would go. You were a supportive friend, and you were always there for Jamie, just as he was for you.

You excused yourself from the room to take an important phone call when he decided to announce to his bandmates that you were his little puppy and would follow him where ever he asked you to go and do whatever he wanted. He told them you were practically glued to his side since he took your virginity. He failed to mention that you also took his, but in his bandmate's eyes, Jamie talked about his sexual encounters so often; it never occurred to them he could be lying.

Jamie wasn't a player; as a matter of fact, he was incredibly loyal to you. He wanted to be your boyfriend, but you told him you wanted time to think about it and that you’d give him an answer that night. You knew you would say yes, but after hearing what he said, you couldn't stand the idea of him being your boyfriend, let alone your best friend. You left without saying anything to him and tried your best to push memories of him out of your mind.

You pitied him when he’d show up at your house, and you'd ignore him. You blocked him from your social media and did not once reach out to him. You had a hard time trusting anyone after that. If your best friend could hurt you that bad, then what could an actual lover do to you? What could another friend do? You locked your heart away and threw away the key, not wanting to feel that pain ever again.

"You're an idiot." You stand up and head to the front floor, and Jamie still follows you, feeling that he needs more from you. When you open the front door, you don't bother closing it, knowing he's still trailing behind you. It takes everything in you not to turn around and scream for him to leave you the fuck alone.

"Can you just tell me what I did?" He stops your car door from opening by leaning against it.

His eyes sadly search yours seeking something that you don't want to give. He looks like you hurt him; how it switches to making you feel guilty.

"I fell in love with you, Jamie, and you treated me like a pet." You tilt your head to the sky; you can't believe you're explaining this. "I fell for you all because you weren't like every other guy, and in the end, you turned out to be just like every other guy I knew. You wanted to have sex with me, brag about it to all your friends, and tell everyone I was a dog and I would do anything and everything you wanted." Your eyes water from remembering how shitty you felt that day. “You were everything to me, Jamie!”

“I never meant to hurt you." He runs his fingers through his hair; closing his eyes, he says, "I loved you then, and I love you now.” His eyes softly open, “I didn’t mean it. If I knew I would lose you for the rest of my adult life. I wouldn't have said a damn thing. It was shitty and disrespectful. I don't know; back then, I thought they would think it was cool or funny."

You light a cigarette, offering Jamie one in the process. You stand next to him and lean against your car, also. You can feel him staring at you even though your eyes are on the ground. When he doesn't stop, you finally meet his gaze. He's intently watching your every movement. You can see love in his eyes, a softness that only happens with you. His eyes wander to your lips watching ever word you say.

You smirk at him, "You wanna kiss me so badly, it makes you look stupid."

Jamie, caught off guard, chuckles, "Well, you're going to look really stupid when you like it."

You exhale the smoke from your lungs, "Who says I'll like it? It's been nearly seven years.”

Jamie puts his cigarette out and sets it to the side. “I've grown and matured, love. I'm not that shy insecure boy anymore.” He brings his hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His free hand travels up your shoulder, landing behind your neck and caressing your head. He leans down, and you tilt your head back, waiting for him to make his move. His nose touches yours, and he smiles with amusement. His lips press firmly against yours, and your body relaxes under his touch. Your arms travel up his sides, and your hands tighten around Jamie's biceps. He pushes you against the car, continuing to kiss up and down your neck.

"Really, (Y/N)?" Sam's voice calls from the porch.

Jamie pulls away from you, letting you regain your balance; you share laughter briefly. Jamie rests his hands on your cheeks and roughly presses his lips to yours again. "So, you don't look stupid. You actually look incredibly adorable."

Sam has now made his way to the two of you. "I'm not your favorite Bower anymore, am I?"

Jamie laughs, gently pushing his hand to Sam's shoulder, "You were never the favorite; you were only keeping my spot warm."

Giggling, you say, “You’re not off the hook yet, Jamie. You've got a lot of making up to do, smartass... Until then, Sam will be the only Bower in this heart.”

[saturrnss]

—-HOBIE’S CANON EVENT (headcanon)—-

Warnings: violent death, daddy issues, mentions of police brutality and underaged drinking, mentions of police corruption

A/n: I’m pulling this straight out of my ass cheeks so do with that what you will. And also I know London banned guns but I’m the writer so I can do anything

😁

.hobie never likes to talk about his canon event, only Miguel and Gwen know about it, and he will literally kill anyone who tries to bring it up.

•••

Lieutenant James Campbell was the worst cop on the London police force.

He was mean, cruel and nasty.

So many innocent people went to jail for a long time because of him and so many abusers and Murderers got out because their lawyers paid him.

He didn’t care for any of the citizens, he was so bad that it was the start of hobie’s long term hatred for cops

But some how, someway. His father- Officer Daniel brown was friends with him.

“I’ve known him since kindergarten, he's not be that bad”

His father used to say whenever hobie tried to bring his cruelty up or make side eye him when he was around.

Hobie never understood it. “How could you let that pig around here!?” “Not even turn ‘em in?!” He thought to himself.

One day, a couple of months after he got bit, he got into an argument which he started after he cussed James out which made him storm off.

“I can believe you defend that fucking clown!!” He yelled. “Clam down“ his father softly but sternly replied with. “I’m not gonna calm down! You willingly jerk those guys off like they’re gonna see you any differently!’’

“I don’t know those people that you hang out with, but I can see the number they did on you” Daniel says, fixing his tie at the kitchen counter and putting his police hat on.

“Don’t bring them into this!’’ He said being even more enraged at the fact that he was basically being ignored.

His father stepped away from the counter and went toward the door of the apartment, but hobie still wasn’t gonna let it go.

“No wonder mom left you, I wouldn’t wanna be with such a cunt either.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“….what did you say?” Daniel said without moving a muscle.

And before hobie could repeat it again his father jumped at him from across the room, forcing him against the wall by his shirt.

“Speak on her again in that way! Speak!!!” He yelled right in his face, spit getting all over.

And for the first time, he didn’t comply.

He would never admit it, but that was the first time, in years, that he felt like he pushed-too far.

His father dropped him and walked away from him, sucking his anger back into him and straightening himself up.

The sheer fear, that hobie felt a few moments ago is a feeling that he would never feel again in his lifetime.

He dad takes a deep breath. “I never wanted to be a cop.” Hobie looks up, confused as to what his father was saying.

“When I was younger me and my mates used to get into a lot of trouble with them,” he says. "but as I grew up, I realized that making a difference isn't just running around, high and confused, it’s about working inside the system. It might not look like it but I have to be very, careful with the power I have now."

He gets his jacket. "One less racist cop at a time." he stops again. "I'm not mad at you, Hobart. You're a young black trying to figure it all out," "but there's just some ways you go about it."

He opens the door and looks back one final time.

"I love you."

Hobie doesn't say anything.

He tries to wait for a couple of seconds, hobie usually breaks the silence with a response but this time he doesn't.

".....I just hope you know that."

He leaves.

And hobie is left there, silent.

•••

Later that night, he got shit-faced with his mates Pic and Scabs at this random punk bar they found. The screeching sound of guitars and the audience screaming was so loud that you could barely hear yourself think.

The smell was awful too but you got used to it after a while.

He stumbled out of the place after a couple of hours and puked into the nearest trash can he could find. Everything was so fuzzy, the longest he could go walking in a straight line was a few seconds at most.

But then, while he was trying to find some essence of soberness, blinking red and blue emergency trucks dart passed him on the street- police cars follow.

He usually wouldn't care about things like that but something in his mind was telling him.

"Follow''

So he did.

Part of him still wishes he never listened.

He didn’t really need to run that far since the scene was happening a couple feet away from him. When he got there it was so many people in front of him but it didn’t bother him that much since he was tall as hell.

The body was already covered so he only saw the blood continuing to leak out of it but it was already enough to make his stomach drop.

Something about it was -off- to him, so he pushed through the crowd, and lifted the cover.

And there it was.

His dad laying face first on the ground, multiple stab wounds to his head, brain matter splattered. Hobie was frozen, his face was like stone, he tried to hold back his tears but before he knew it they were filling his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, making his vision blurry even more-so.

“Sir.” A random policeman says, he doesn’t hear. “Sir,” he snaps his fingers in hobie’s face, this time the punk notices him but he just doesn’t care.

“Sir I’m gonna have to ask you to leav-“ the officer says and starts to put his hand on hobie’s shoulder but he instinctively pushes him away. Sooner or later more cops circle around him as he refuses to move away from the body. But before a fight could break out, voice comes out from behind them.

“He’s with me.” The officers stop and stand up straight to hobie’s confusion. He turned around to see the devil himself- lieutenant James, in all his prick-ish glory.

“I think you all should leave.” He says, forcing the officers to leave you alone, still side eyeing the punk while walking away.

For a short while there was silence, just a moment of taking in what was now reality, then James decided to break the ice. “..Sorry..son” he puts his hand on his back which makes both of them cringe to the heaviest degree.

They watch the paramedics put his body on a stretcher and lift him up onto the back of the ambulance but even that wasn’t an emotional moment due to thick air of tension created.

He runs off to get inside the vehicle before they close the door, escaping the awkwardness and into an equally dreadful but weirdly calming environment.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity, all he could do was hold his dad’s hand, watching the paramedics trying to save a lost cause.

They got to the Emergency room and rolled the officer away, leaving hobie there, alone, with only himself to comfort.

Later, while hobie was sitting in a waiting chair, trying to distract himself with whatever crappy American sitcom they aired on late night television, a doctor in a long white coat and round glasses approached him.

“You must be Officer Brown’s son.” The doctor says “what of it?” Hobie tries to say in his usual dismissive tone but this time, he can’t bring himself to commit fully.

“…..he was too far gone.” Hobie closes his eyes and sighs, he thought he mentally prepared for it but hearing someone say it was like it cemented itself into reality.

“If you would like,” the doctor said with pity in their voice. “You could come to the room to have one last moment with him.” He hesitated at first but then picked himself up walked to the room with the doctor.

When he entered the room it was a cold and sterile atmosphere, felt like one of those liminal spaces. The colors of the room were almost sickly, everything about it wasn’t right, the only thing that grounded it in reality was the body laying flat in the middle of the room.

The doctor quietly excused themself out of the room and shut the door. Hobie walked to the side of the body and practically just dropped on his father- and cried.

Cried hard. It almost felt like he was a 5 year old again, sitting on his dad’s lap wailing because he broke his arm, but this time he doesn’t feel a warm embrace, the reassurance and comfort of a parental figure.

All he feels is just a cold hand. Lifelessness.

No one to tell him it was gonna be all okay.

Nothing was there anymore.

He barley even remembers the funeral, all he can recount is James, his supposed “best friend” looking bored and laughing up a storm with people.

The case for his dad closed after about 3 months no matter how hard Hobie fought for it to say open.

He couldn’t keep up with rent so he got evicted.

The only option was to stay with his absent mom or James, and no way in hell was that happening.

He found an abandoned warehouse and decorated it to his liking. It’s not like he was depressed or anything but everything just went- numb for a little while.

On rare occasions he felt emotion, but it went away after a few seconds.

Life felt more like a really bad fever dream now.

If you could even call it a dream.

•••

Months after that, he was sleeping on a friend’s couch when the friend, Rob frantically woke him.

“Wake the fuck up Hobbs!!” Rob quietly yells in a panic. “What?!” He says, sitting up dazed. Rob paces back and forth.

"Scabs got merked!!" hobie's mind didn't register it at first. “…huh?" “Scab’s is dead mate!” It still doesn’t compute. “….what?” He says in an uncharacteristically dumbfounded tone. “Do I have to spell it out for you dumbass he is not with us anymore!!”

Then when it finally clicks, the only words he can muster out is

“....who killed him?" he asks but Rob didn't hear it, still pacing and talking to himself. It took hobie to get up and grab Rob by his jacket for him to finally get a straight answer."

"Who. Killed. Him?" He says slowly. "That cunt lieutenant said he had drugs on him when he doesn't even drink. One thing lead to another and he got shot."

His face drops.

At first, he was even more lost, and confused. He sat back down and put his hand into his palms. Then, it was like someone poured boiling water one him to wake up.

For the first time, in a long time, an emotion finally stuck with him.

Rage.

Blind. Rage.

He quickly went to get his guitar and his suit and quickly went toward the door. “Where yo-” hobie had already shut the door before his friend could finish the question.

He changed on the rooftop of the building and swung into the night.

He didn’t even know where that cunt was, all he knew was that he had to do something. Something that would make him feel the pain and numbness that he felt.

And the only way he knew how to do that was by Revenge.

He finally got to the lieutenant’s house- a modest, 2-bedroom house. He didn't have any children, he got divorced rather quickly before he could.

He got in through the window. It was pitch black and he couldn't feel anyone in the house so he walked up to the front door and waited.

He saw certificates and police gear all over the wall along with pictures of him on duty and all he could feel was disgust.

He could feel the sweat dripping down his face in his mask, palms sore from holding the guitar. His suit only made him feel claustrophobic but he didn’t care.

He heard a car pull up. His eyes immediately shot to the window, seeing a black Volkswagen Beetle parked in the driveway. He looks straight at the door, feeling him get out of the car and inch closer and closer to the door.

His heart was beating through his chest and was mentally psyching himself up. The sound of keys jingling just outside the door made him close his eyes.

“Once I deal with him,” he thought. “It will be all over with.”

The doorknob turned and he saw him. From that point on, It was like an out-of-body experience. He didn’t feel like himself- Something came over him.

Maybe it was a greater force than himself, maybe it was all the grief he somehow suppressed it was a mystery.

He doesn’t remember much of the fight, only the fact that James had a broken nose and was losing severely. But when he “got back” to his body, the scene was a horror show.

Blood was all over him, his guitar was broken and James' head looked like it had been split in two. It didn’t take him long to put two and two together.

It was so bad that two teeth were stuck in the bottom of his guitar. He quickly left the scene after he heard a car coming. He got on the roof of Rob’s flat and hid his blood soaked suit and guitar.

He knew he couldn’t leave it there for long or else it would stain. He opened the door to the apartment and immediately went to take a shower, and to be honest, he felt immensely better.

He was mostly glad that nobody would be bothered by him anymore, that there was one less burden on earth, but he couldn’t brush off the fact that something was watching him- Something familiar.

It was the most publicized murder case in the city. The brutality of it all intrigued people the most. “What could have the heroic police officer James Campbell, done to have deserved this fate?”

It made him sick, the blatant rewriting of history. Especially the fact that the authority force had so much more emotion for him than his dad.

That’s when he got his blue latter laces. His friends and the rest of the scene noticed but didn’t say anything nor cared. He got investigated for a bit but due to lack of evidence he was let go.

He took a break from being spider-man for a while, opting to spend time with his friends and to sort of heal. He cleaned his suit and fixed his guitar, trying to live a normal life after what he did.

He still gets night terrors once in a while, it gets mixed in with dreams of his dad. He makes jokes about his laces, smiling at Miles’s dad when he catches him staring at his shoes.

Definitely doesn't feel bad about that son of a bitches death, doesn't have a reason to care anyway. But there's still a pinch of- guilt in the back of his mind.

Festering. If he didn't say what he said, if he just caved in and told him that he loved him. Then he would still be alive.

.

A/N: idk y'all I'm not feeling this one 😔 also hey y'all

Wattpad: sevenstarcigs

Tiktok: sevenstarwp

[apoptoses]

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in Blood Sanation what would it be?

29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for Come Pull My Strings in general? Explain your choices if you want!

Bonus if you want/have time: 50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

I'm going to disappoint the hell out of you and admit that I can't hear lyrics 90% of the time, so it's hard for to me to pick songs to relate to fic. I have severe audio processing issues, it takes me like twenty repetitions of a song to even realize the singer is saying words most of the time. And even then I don't understand correctly lol

To make up for that! I have a missing scene from Blood Sanation that I'll give you right now. It's Armand and Daniel returning home to NYC. It just didn't fit in the narrative so I cut it, but it's not a bad scene I think:

Armand rested heavy against Daniel’s shoulder, eyes on the screen embedded in the back of the seat in front of them. Daniel kept scrolling through the movies again and again in wonder. Beside them passengers pushed their way toward the back of the place, bags thudding into their overhead compartments. The flight attendant reached over Armand and slammed shut the compartment above them.

“The seats suck compare to the flights we used to take, but the little tvs are an improvement I guess,” Daniel said as he pushed a button on the menu and found the games.

“Have you not been on a plane since I last saw you?”

Daniel shrugged. “Yeah but I wasn’t really in the mood to play games. I think I stared out the window the whole time.” He put his arm around Armand’s shoulders and squeezed. “I didn’t have you there to hassle me and keep me entertained.”

Armand smiled. Funny how they could make light of that time now, if only to keep from dulling their mood.

Flying home commercial had been his idea.

Skipping the private jet and going to the airport like normal travelers had only seemed natural after reliving the early days of their relationship. True, the airplanes were different now. The seats even in first class were more narrow, and the lounges upstairs were gone. But now Armand could curl up against Daniel’s side freely and not worry about what anyone thought. He could nap against his chest the whole way home if he wanted.

“I’m kind of nervous about going back, to tell you the truth,” Daniel said suddenly.

The plane pulled back from the jetway. It shuddered as the pilot took it out of reverse, changed gears, and turned toward the runway for takeoff.

“What about?” Armand asked.

Surprising for Daniel to say this now, when he hadn’t seemed to worry the entire trip. Armand sat up, craned his neck awkwardly to look at his face without removing Daniel’s arm from his shoulders.

“It’ll just be different, not having you all to myself,” Daniel said. “And I’m not against you having your own relationships outside of what you have with me. But I can’t say I’m not nervous about how it’ll all work out.”

“I don’t think either of us can say how it’ll work out,” Armand said slowly. “We can only try our best. Especially if you’ll be living outside of Trinity Gate.”

“Right.”

The plane rumbled as the engines turned, gaining speed. It rolled forward slowly and then, with a great leap that jerked them back into their seats, roared down the runway and into the sky. Daniel always used to sweat at this part. He’d drink a glass of whiskey before boarding and then request another the moment they’d sat down to get him through the anxiety of take off. As an immortal all Armand could offer him was his hand.

Outside the window the lights of the city grew smaller and smaller. Daniel closed his eyes and laced their fingers, holding his hand tight.

“But just think, the nights I come to visit you we’ll be all alone together. I can get in bed with and sleep away the day, and when I go back home you can text me as much as you like,” Armand said to distract him. “I can send you all sorts of things now when we’re apart.”

Armand shifted closer. He leaned across the armrest to whisper into Daniel’s ear above the roar of the plane.

“I can send you photos. Videos. Louis loves to go to the symphony. I could slip away to the bathroom and send you all sorts of things and he would hardly be the wiser. Or would you like him to know?”

Daniel’s adam’s apple worked in his throat. Armand grinned.

“You want him to know. You like nice, proper Louis knowing that I’ve left my seat to send you photos of my cock.”

Daniel glanced over. “Jesus, Armand, we’re in public.”

“That’s never stopped you before. I remember what I used to do to you under the blankets on these planes when the lights were out. If I could still get in your mind I’d put the image there but- then again, I don’t have to, do I? You can imagine it quite well.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember,” Daniel said, voice low and rough.

While no one seemed to be paying attention Armand dropped his hand. Reached over and gave his groin a quick squeeze.

Daniel made a sound as if the breath had been punched out of him. The plane evened out and hit cruising altitude.

“Nice to know I still have such an effect on you,” Armand said and snuggled back up against his side. “Really though, Daniel, Louis will understand.”

Daniel dragged his hand over his face. He was so red under the harsh fluorescent lights in the plane. “I just don’t want anyone jealous or putting you in the middle and making you feel like you have to choose. Or making you feel like your whole job is running back and forth between guys and you never get time for yourself.”

“But I like spending time with each of you. And we can all spend time together, can’t we? Surely you and Louis can survive watching a movie in the same room with me.”

“Yeah, I mean more like- if you spend a couple nights with him and I’m missing you. Or the other way around. Does that sound silly and insecure?” Daniel asked.

Armand nestled into the warm space of Daniel’s underarm and bit back a smile. When Daniel glanced out the window he saw the reflection of his face in the plastic. His hand went still on his shoulder.

“What’s so funny? It is silly and insecure, isn’t it?” he asked.

Armand shook his head. “No. I was only thinking I haven’t had men openly jealous over me since I was a boy. The idea of you and Louis arguing over me is entertaining, that’s all,” he said. “It’ll be fine, really. If you need me all you ever have to do is ask. And besides, Louis may return to Auvergne with Lestat.”

Daniel’s hand resumed rubbing its slow circles into his arm. Armand closed his eyes. They were high enough in the sky there were no lights to look at now, only clouds and endless dark sky.

“And are you worried about that?” Daniel asked.

“Of course. But there’s nothing I can do about it, is there?”

The idea made his chest go tight, caused the lump to try to creep up and constrict his throat. But Daniel’s big hand on his arm helped to push it back down. Over the hum of the engines he could hear the slow beat of his heart and the rasp of his lungs. Armand tried to breathe with him, to exhale whenever Daniel did and keep his airway open.

Louis might leave. But Louis might also stay. Louis and Daniel might one day live with him, all three of them together with whoever else chose to remain at Trinity Gate.

Or perhaps he’d live with Daniel again, just the two of them. There was no way to know. But they were going home now, back to New York, where they could begin again and find out.

Daniel touched the computer screen again. He scrolled through the movies until he found a film with Meg Ryan, one they’d seen together shortly before they’d split. When Harry Met Sally. He felt for his headphones in his pocket and plugged them in, giving one of the earbuds to Armand.

Armand placed the thing in his ear, curled up at Daniel’s side and watched the opening credits roll.

“Daniel?”

“Yeah?”

Armand smirked. “Do you think if I ask the flight attendant for a blanket she’ll bring one?”

Daniel rolled his eyes. Reached up and pressed the call button. It lit up with a soft ding.

“I’m never flying commercial with you again.”

[heldentenxr]

Within a whisper

Part one (Part two) (ao3 link)

The day was just like any other day.

Any other work travel day, to be more specific. They got checked into the hotel (they could even afford three separate rooms), took a little tour around the city of Chicago, and then had a few drinks at the hotel’s bar. The paramedics conference was tomorrow, so Steve tried not to go too heavy on his beer. Unusually so, the always quite casual bar was now full of metalheads: as he heard, a rock band stopped at the hotel to have a concert tomorrow, and some of their fans were there in hope to catch the musicians. Steve just hoped they wouldn’t perform live tonight: he wanted to catch some sleep.

After a few hours he said goodbyes to his colleagues and went up to his room to relax. His head was spinning slightly: he tried not to go too heavy on his beer, but the last glass might have been one too much. When he entered his room and locked the door, he just fell on his bed without bothering to undress – his yellow sweater and gray pants were still on him. He would get there eventually, he just needed to lie down a bit.

Infused with alcohol, his body felt so relaxed, so at ease, and his mind so blissfully dull he startled to drift off, until suddenly a wave of arousal hit him in his abdomen. It swirled all his insides, ignited them, and it seemingly came out of nowhere. He didn’t have any sexual thoughts to precede such a strong reaction, and it even scared him that his mind was now mysteriously occupied with want want want. He didn’t even know who he wanted, or what was happening to him, but he could swear it felt like someone’s tongue on his neck that blocked out all the thoughts. Apparently he hadn't had sex in such a long time, his brain must’ve taken a pity on him and hallucinated the pleasant sensations.

It was as usual: hit up on a guy, buy him a drink, ask him to dance, and then get in his pants. Nothing he hadn’t done a million times before. Eddie decided to take the dude to his hotel room, since it was closer from the bar they met in. He looked nice, with his dark skin and coiled hair, and if Eddie remembered correctly, his name was Daniel. He wouldn’t care either way, as tomorrow he wouldn’t even be here. But for tonight, Daniel was his.

They slammed into the room, too busy with each other, and suddenly Eddie felt… uncomfortable. Questioning. Scared, even. It quickly backed down as he felt Daniel’s tongue on his neck, the thrill of screwing the stranger too strong to care about anything else. Daniel was good with his tongue, but Eddie still felt too flustered, too wanting, too eager, as if all the sensations somehow doubled.

He paid it no mind until they got onto the bed, and Daniel, drunk and high on something Eddie preferred not to know, got under his T-shirt and placed a hickey there. Eddie heard a moan, no, the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard. Inside his head. But it wasn’t his own.

And it wasn’t Daniel’s, either, as the man was too busy with his tongue trying to make a heart out of hickeys on Eddie’s abdomen. It was silly, and Eddie would simply laugh if he didn’t feel something else in his head. Or rather, someone else.

How stupid. It can’t be. Seriously. Here? Of all places? Eddie thought it was nothing but a joke. He didn’t believe in soulmates; but people were talking that when you’re close to each other, you can feel what your soulmate feels. Could it be that somehow his soulmate was at this dirty, Godforsaken hotel, in the neighboring room, feeling Daniel’s mouth on him the way Eddie felt it, and moaning so majestically to the sensation?

The moaning persisted as Daniel unzipped his pants and went down on him; Eddie could swear the sounds in his head turned him on more than anything his one night partner did at the moment. Whoever made them sounded angelic, and Eddie really wanted to see what they looked like. He thought, if this bullshit about soulmates were true, he could try it. And if it weren’t, well, it was only a matter of time before he started losing his mind.

“Where are you, love?” he thought acutely in his head as he concentrated on the sensation of his cock in Daniel’s mouth. “You sound so pretty when you moan, you know that? I know it feels good, but if you want me to do the same for you, just tell me where you are.”