Heyyyyy I Need Some Danny References And I Know You Have Them...

Roving Blade

Pirate Captain!Jake X Siren!Reader

Warnings: Slight violence, minor swearing, the usual piratey nonsense, minor sexual implications, will add more tags for future chapters

CHAPTER 2

These pirates were a lot nicer than the ones you had seen and heard of before, you had to admit. They made a large tank for you, big enough for you to fully stretch out in, and made sure to keep you well fed once they realized you could eat meat and fish. Jake kept you in his cabin, away from the prying eyes of any he didn’t trust with the knowledge of your existence.

You still would rather NOT be on this ship at all, but it could’ve been worse, you supposed.

Captain Kiszka, or Jake, as you soon heard him be called, was fascinated with you, even more so than the rest of the crew. He’d spend hours trying to communicate with you, despite the warnings from (who you assumed were) his brothers. Especially the one who shared his face; he seemed especially wary of you.

You weren’t intentionally dangerous, to your defense. It’s just in your nature to go after pirates and sailors, with them being common on the seas and usually causing a ruckus. Again, though, this one was… different. He was still dangerous and proud, as all pirates seemed to be, but he held a certain curiosity and eagerness to learn about the world, not conquer it.

Today was the same as usual, with Jake feeding you and taking notes in his journal about your habits. You’ve grown used to this, having given up on trying to understand his human writing. You may somewhat understand their spoken language, but that didn’t extend to writing.

“Can you eat things other than meat and fish?” Jake asked, tossing another fish into your tank for you to eat. You opened your mouth to show him your teeth, shaking your head. Your teeth were razor sharp, stained pink from years of eating things full of blood and meat. Jake observed your gesture, scribbling furiously in his journal. You had once tried to eat the kelp at the sea floor, curious about it. All it did was make you sick and offer no nutrients to you, so you’ve not tried it again.

“Interesting…” He muttered, tucking the journal away to look at your appearance again. This is also something he does a lot. He’ll simply stare, as if trying to engrave every detail of you into his mind. Part of you was annoyed that he wouldn’t let you go, and that he seemed so obsessed, but the other part of you was glad he seemingly had no interest in selling or killing you.

You finished off the fish, tossing the bones to the bottom of your tank and laid back on the sand that covered the cold glass at the bottom of it. Your tail shimmered in the sunlight that came in from the small porthole windows in Jake’s cabin. He stared at your scales as you eventually drifted off into a short nap.

——

Jake had been doing research any chance he got. Sometimes that meant asking the old sailors and other pirates he was friendly with about the tales of merfolk and sirens, other times it meant stealing books from homes and libraries in port towns. One thing that continually showed up was that the scales of a mermaid held magic in it that protected its holder from harm.

In some old stories, it mentioned lovestruck mermaids offering them to sailors they fancied, other times it told of sailors stealing them from the mermaids and wearing them as a trophy. He considered himself better than a common thief, but knew that there’d be no way he’d get a scale willingly from the one he captured and imprisoned.

When talking about the much more aggressive version of mermaids, aka Sirens, there wasn’t much in the way of positives about them. They were said to be bloodthirsty tricksters, using their voice to lure sailors to jump ship into their waters, where they stood no chance against the razor sharp teeth and quick reflexes of the creature. Some say sirens are the spirits of women thrown overboard, causing them to be vengeful to any sailor man they see. Others claim they’re like animals, seeking out their preferred prey, humans.

He thought back to the night he first heard it sing, remembering how close he was to doing just that. Did this creature simply want to eat him? Did it only see him as food, or a threat that needed to be taken out? Jake shook his head. It didn’t matter; it’s not like it could attack him now, being stuck aboard his ship in a tank. He eyed the scales again before turning away and heading out to the deck of the ship.

He couldn’t think about that now, he had a ship to run and a crew to manage.

——

You couldn’t figure out what this pirate wanted with you. A trophy? Research? It’s been three months, and he’s not done anything like selling you or try to even harm you. Neither did the few others he let come in to feed you or talk to him as you watched. He’s stopped scribbling in that journal so much, you noticed. Maybe it was full? Or maybe he couldn’t learn anything else about you?

So then why did he keep you around?

——

The seas were rough one morning as they sailed from the shores out to the wider parts of the sea. They kept watch, knowing these parts held far more enemies for them; other pirates, the navy, large whales and squid, and who knows what else. If Merfolk were real, who knows what else was real?

Jake was itching for something to happen, having gotten too settled down during the three months they stayed close to the shores. They had waited out some of the rougher months, but the seas still had their fair share of rough days. Today was no exception, rain pouring down and a heavy fog settling over the water. Sam was on lookout above, his eyes much better than anyone else’s.

“Captain! There’s a ship out on the starboard side, about 3 knots away I’d say. It’s flying a red flag, so I, uh, don’t think they’re friendly. Should we ready the canons and guns?” Sam shouted down to Jake, looking concerned. They had a formidable crew, but they still preferred not to fight other pirates if they had to.

Jake made a quick decision. “Ready the canons, raise the flag! If they attack, we attack ten-fold! Ready men?” His voice was loud and proud over the sound of the rain and waves, commanding his crew like he had for years.

Jake grinned as he unsheathed his sword and stood on deck, finally seeing the ship appear from the fog. It’s been too long since he’s had a good fight…

——

The sound of fighting soon appeared over the noise of the waves and weather, the booms of the canons and guns alongside the clang of swords and the shouts of both crews. You curled up at the bottom of your tank, frightened of what might happen if the other crew were to find you. You didn’t really care if the one you were on sank; you could get out of the tank rather easily and you’d be home free. But this crew had been nicer to you than most probably would be.

It felt like hours until you heard cheers of success, followed by boots approaching Jake’s cabin. You were sort of relieved it was actually Jake who walked through the door, drenched and spattered with blood, but looking victorious. He held a worn map within his grasp, grinning as he set it on his desk. He tore off his jacket, hanging it over the chair at the desk before stripping his other clothes.

You had to admit, he was handsome for a human. He was soft in some places, and muscled in others. One long scar stretched across his chest, from his shoulder to just below his ribs. You wish you could ask about it, curious of what battle that must have come from. He had a nice amount of body hair, without being too hairy like so many pirates and sailors were. You had seen him use something to trim up the hair on his face, so maybe he did the same for his body? Speaking of his body…

He was strong and sturdy, no doubt about that. But there was some softness to him too. His hips were rounder, along with his chest. Looking lower, his thighs were thick and powerful, and what hung between them seemed the same. You had seen him undress before, but usually in the dim candlelight at night, not midday.

Jake redressed, now wearing dry and (somewhat) cleaner clothes than before. Finally, he sat at his desk, opening the map. He seemed confused after a moment, looking at it from multiple angles. After but a few minutes, he stood and retrieved a book from across the room, setting it down on the desk and flipping through the pages. With each page, Jake looked more and more annoyed, as if he wasn’t finding what he wanted to.

You craned your neck, looking at the map from your tank, and were surprised to recognize the writing on the edge of it as one you could read. It seemed to be written in a language only spoken in Europe, one being forgotten with each day that passes. Despite the distance, you squinted and read the words before tapping on the glass of your tank. Jake whirled around, confused. You never try to communicate with him; it’s always the other way around.

“You… You want to tell me something?” He asks. You nod and gesture over to the map, his eyes following the movement. “The map?”

Slowly, he grabbed it off the desk, eager to be finally having a sort-of conversation with you. You tapped the glass again, asking him to hold it up. He did so, and you finally got a good look at the words. For the first time since you had enchanted him that night months ago, you breached the water of your tank and spoke to him.

“ ‘Near Santa Cruz, nestled amongst its fellow islands, lies a cavern that leads to a treasure beyond any that’s ever been found. Know that if you wish to find this treasure, you must be willing to take the risk of the curse that lies with it. No other has found this treasure and lived to tell of it besides I, Captain Christopher Turpin. May you be luckier than the others who followed my path.’ That’s what it says,” You say, looking over the edge of your tank into his eyes.

“Treasure? A cave out by Santa Cruz? This is all so much to take in… And you can speak my language? I, well, I had assumed you couldn’t since you hadn’t until now,” Jake paced back and forth, so many questions in his mind. “I’ve heard of Captain Turpin. They said he disappeared somewhere in South America with his fortune and retired years ago. If true, he should still be alive, and not too old to answer my questions…”

Jake suddenly pulled out his own map, charting out a course to South America. You tilted your head to the side, watching him curiously. Maybe if you work with this pirate, you could barter your freedom with him… It was worth a try.

Mornings Like These | Jake Kiszka x GN!Reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff || Words: 716

You and jake share a quiet morning together.

-

You blinked the sleep from your eyes, rolling over to see Jake still bundled up in the covers, his long dark hair askew. You sighed, letting a gentle smile spread across your face. You sat up, peering towards the large window adjacent to your shared bed, the sun streaming in, casting a soft glow against the features of the room.

These were your favorite kinds of mornings, when you wake up before Jake and can watch the way the stress fades from his face as he sleeps. He was always so stressed about the tour, wanting it to be perfect, and you appreciated the moments where he could be calm, quiet, and let the lines relax from his face.

Moments pass, and you relish in the peace of the morning, while Jake starts to shift. Turning over, he gives you a lazy smile, eyes half lidded, feature soft. “G’morning beautiful.” He mumbles before lifting up to place a sweet kiss on your lips. You rest your palm against his cheek, “Morning baby, what do you want to do today?” you ask, keeping your voice soft to break the quiet ambience of the morning. He flops back onto his pillows, letting out a hum, “How about… We stay in bed, and you let me hold you.” He says, before moving to bury his face in your neck, you let out a surprised laugh at the soft kisses he leaves there, loving the way his arms feel around your waist.

"Well, if that’s what you really want,” You giggle out, wrapping your arms around him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. You lay there, holding each other for who knows how long, savoring the feeling of being in each other's arms.

The quiet morning is ruined by a loud grumble from Jake’s stomach, forcing laughter from the both of you. You sit up, pushing your hair into somewhat of a cohesive style, before stretching until you get a satisfying pop from your back. You sigh, casting a glance at Jake, who's buried himself under the covers again. You pat the man-shaped lump in the bed as you stand, “C’mon babe, I’ll make you breakfast,” You say, leaving the room and walking towards the kitchen. Jake followed close behind, not bothering to fix his behead.

He flops down onto a chair at the kitchen table, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You rummage around the kitchen, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet, pouring the cereal and filling the bowl with milk. You cross, placing Jake’s bowl in front of him, “Your favorite, my specialty, Cinnamon toast crunch,” you laugh, sitting down in your own chair across from him. You watch as he loads an obscene amount of cereal onto his spoon, shoveling it into his mouth all at once. “This is great babe,” He says, words garbled from the food, milk dripping down his chin. You scoff at him, wrinkling your nose at his habits, “Ew, Jake.” You laugh, before taking your own bite, he pulls a face at you, making you snort, effectively shooting cereal milk out of your nose.

You laugh, coughing and sputtering on the meal, trying to catch your breath as Jake cackles at you. “You should’ve seen your face!” He squeals between laughs, he slams his hand down on the table as he calms down. “Sorry, that was great, y/n, truly.” He cries, wiping fake tears from his eyes. You shake your head at him, wiping the stray milk from your face.

You grimace, “Cinnamon toast crunch doesn’t taste as good when it’s coming out your nose,” this causes Jake to start laughing all over again, you ignore him and finish your cereal before it kills you.

As Jake eats, you reach your hand across the table, feeling his hand slide into yours. “I love mornings like these,” you say, looking at him with all the adoration you can muster, hoping your expression get across your true feelings. “I love them, almost as much as I love you,” He says, smile cheesy and full of joy. You purse your lips at him, “you’re such a sap,”

“I guess that's why you stick around, huh?”

You roll your eyes at his dad joke, you’ll never get tired of mornings like these

Petrichor.

The late nights were always your favorite.

Spending your time in the garden, huddled around the firepit, talking about anything and everything.

He had pulled his hair into a low bun as he watched the flames, Rose laying quietly at his feet.

You couldn’t help but to look at him, as the bright orange illuminated his face so beautifully - every freckle, every dimple, dip, and edge, as perfect as could be.

He was composed of stardust, filled with the hope of the world. You had always been told that you’d know when you had found the one, but in this moment, it truly hit you.

His eyes met yours, and he smiled. Damn, that smile.

He glowed as brightly as the sun itself, dimmed only by the moonlight that danced across the sky.

He was a kaleidoscope of wonders, somehow finding a way to chase away each and every one of your fears. You had never felt so exhilarated, yet so safe.

His voice was soft when he finally spoke once more.

“You know I love you, right?” he hummed, leaning forwards ever so slightly.

“Each and every day, my love for you only grows.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face as he patted his hand onto the seat next to him, beckoning for you.

You obliged quickly, seating yourself by his side.

The tour had been long, and strenuous, but he was finally home, and all yours.

The rain that had fallen that day had soaked into the ground, littering the leaves with a soft glow. Each time the flames blew in their direction, they would be illuminated like fireflies, reflections dancing across the grass.

He leaned back in his seat, raising his hands behind his head. You mimicked him, following his eyes threw the stars that adorned the sky.

In this moment, it felt as if nothing mattered, as if the world could end right now, and you wouldn’t even notice.

He had brought an unexpected peace into your life, a softness that you had come to love.

You had never thought that you’d end up here, with him sat by your side.

Growing up had been a long journey - watching him struggle with his ideas of the future, whether he’d follow music, or something else.

You had supported him thoroughly, regardless of what decision he would finally come to.

In all honesty, you were ecstatic when he had chosen to follow his brothers. It was beautiful to watch him play - the way that his hands would move so effortlessly, pulling calculated sounds from the strings that lay in his hands.

He was much more than just a musician - he had a way of commanding an instrument in a way that you had never seen before, a certain mannerism about him that dripped with confidence.

You remembered when he left for the first tour - promising to call each and every night. You would watch his eyes slowly fall closed whenever he would call you after a show, clearly doing his best to remain awake for you.

It was endearing, how hard he had tried to remind you that he was there, that he was thinking about you.

Him finally coming home was your favorite part of it all - being able to wrap your arms around him and keep him there, the two of you in a world of your own.

Turning to face him once more, you noticed that he was once again watching the flames bounce across the coals, as if performing a show, intertwining with each other, before separating once more.

“What’re you thinking about?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.

“The future” he replied, not looking up.

“The future?” you questioned.

“The future. The people of the past built with mud, and straw, and they fell. The Romans built with stone, and gold, and they still fell. What do I build with?” he postulated.

“What do you build with?” you whispered.

“What do I build with?”

You sat back once more, pulling your knees to your chest, as you thought for a moment.

“You build with words. You build with music. You build with a love that can’t be lost. You build with the essence of the summer breeze, and the winter chill. You build with a fervent passion, and an unwavering understanding.

You do not build with mud. You do not build with stone. You build with something that cannot be held. You build with something that cannot be knocked, or trodden on. You build with something that can only remain. You build with hope, and love, and passion.

You build a world that is worth living in - a structure that cannot be destroyed, or broken down. You build with a purpose, that is something that can’t be said for those men of the past.

And you’re not them, Sam. You’re something different altogether. The songbirds sing for you, the fish school together for you, and the breeze pulls the leaves from the trees only for you.”

As you finished your thoughts, he finally turned to look at you, standing up from his seat. Before you had the chance to speak once more, you felt him pressed against the back of your seat, his knees placed gently into the dirt, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You could feel the smile on his face as he pressed his lips to your cheek, before burying his face into your shoulder.

“How do you always know what to say?” he asked, his voice muffled as Rose stood up, jumping into your lap without a care in the world.

“I blame you - you have brought me more joy than I could possibly express, all that I can ask for is that I can give you back even half of that back”

“I love you more than words can say” he finally replied after a moment of silence.

You hummed in response, turning to plant a soft kiss on his head.

Bring a Friend

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~6800

Warnings: it's a threeway with HEAVY slash. Don't like it, don't read it. (voyeurism; oral sex w/ M & F receiving; dirty talking; bottom!Sam; Danny is a bit of a dom; fingering all around; protected anal & vaginal sex) 18+ only!

@mackalah sent a call to the universe asking for a Sanny x Reader fic inspired by the song Lost in the Fire by The Weeknd. I've been writing Sanny fics for a long time and I never get tired of doing it. I think I was one of the first, if not the first, writers in the fandom to write a Sanny threeway, actually...and I never thought I'd write more of those but I felt very inspired by this song and the idea...even if it doesn't fit your specific image, I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it ;)

---

Sure, you had reconciled with the fact that Sam would never love you as much as he loved Danny. At first, their overwhelming affection and adoration for one another was kind of cute to you. Seeing Sam so enamored with a boy was adorable–quite special, really. You loved that he could love a best friend so fiercely, so passionately. But then it had become clearer and clearer throughout your relationship that you would never be even close to a priority no matter how long you were with Sam or how close you two became–Danny would always be closer, and Danny would always be number one. 

So things ended. Amicably enough, thankfully, and you still saw Sam–and by default, Danny–all the time. You were friends. But you weren’t sure how to respond when Sam started sending you pictures that showcased more of their friendship than you’d ever imagined. Well, not seriously imagined, anyway.

The first one was almost passable as innocent–a picture of Sam and Danny’s arms slung across one another’s shoulders, Danny leaning in and pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek. 

Cute, you texted back. 

Jealous? Sam replied.

You balked at your phone. Sam was ridiculous. Of you or of him?

Either

Nope

Hmm… 

After that text, he sent you a picture of them actually kissing–Danny was planting a big one right on Sam’s mouth and Sam was smiling into it, arm outstretched to capture the moment on his phone.

What about now?

You stared at the picture, flabbergasted. It was kind of hot, you had to admit, but you also felt your chest tighten with bitterness–you’d really tried with Sam. You’d been patient and forgiving, welcoming of how close Danny was to him, but it just never felt like you were enough. Not the perfect fit. And that wore you down more and more until it just all had to end. But here Sam was showing off his perfect match, apparently really trying to make you jealous when you thought all those feelings of jealousy had been buried and forgotten.

You left Sam on read, ignoring his attempt to antagonize you, but later, when you’d nearly forgotten about the pictures, Danny texted you:

Did Sam send pics of us together to you?

You sighed. You weren’t really in the mood to get more, but maybe Danny would spare you. 

Yes. Did you guys take those just to send to me and make me “jealous?”

Actually no. I didn’t even know he sent them until now. I’m really sorry if it upset you 

Another sigh. Danny was a sweetheart. Surely he really didn’t want to rile you up or hurt your feelings. 

It's okay. You guys are good together

Thanks. You and Sam were good together too

You left that alone. As much as you could appreciate the sentiment, you weren’t in the mood to travel further down memory lane. But later, when you were lying in bed, you found yourself opening up your texts to look at those pictures again, especially lingering on the snapshot of Sam and Danny kissing. Finally, with a huff you locked your phone and tossed it aside before you tossed yourself into a fitful sleep.

But the next day, the pictures commenced. The first one was sent in the middle of the night and was a perplexing awakening–a picture clearly taken from Sam’s POV. You’d recognize that torso anywhere and there it was in clear digital–Sam flat on his back, a string of bright pink bite marks down his stomach and Danny’s wild dark curls pressed against his belly. You couldn’t see his face, but you also knew that hair anywhere. You sat up in bed rubbing your eyes and once your brain made full sense of the image, you wanted to be mad. You were mad–you could feel the heat rising in your body, the tension growing in your mind, but you also felt a tingle of betrayal shudder through you all the same. 

No text accompanied the photo. It was bait and you weren’t going for it. If Sam wanted you to be jealous, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction; if he just wanted you to have the pictures for whatever demented reason, you’d accept. But when the pictures kept coming and got progressively more raunchy, you thought the picture of Sam kissing Danny’s neck, his hand shoved down Danny’s pants, had to be the last one. There was no way it would escalate. But it did–later that night Sam sent you a picture of Danny straight up sucking his dick.

That made you gasp and, without even thinking about it, press the call button.

“Sam!” you shouted when he answered. “What the fuck are you doing? Does Danny know you’re sending me all these?”

Sam laughed. Such a bastard. “He didn’t at first. But now he does. He’s been encouraging me.”

You held your face in your free hand, sighing. “Sam. What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve really worked hard to move past our breakup and I–”

“Y/N, I know. That’s not what this is.” Sam paused for a second and you sensed he wasn’t alone on the other end. “This is an invitation.”

You couldn’t lie to yourself–you’d thought about it. How could you not after receiving all those pictures? But still the words from Sam didn’t make sense in your mind. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I said. We’re inviting you to join us.” When you didn’t respond, Sam continued: “Just for a night, you know? Test it out?”

The words were still bouncing around. Your heart sped up with curiosity. “Let me talk to Danny,” you ordered. “I’m sure he’s with you right now. Right?” Danny would make it make sense. 

Another laugh from Sam. “Yeah, he’s here. Hang on.” There was a vague shuffle and then Danny’s voice was in your ear.

“Danny, please explain this to me,” you demanded, growing even more flustered and impatient. “What’s Sam talking about?”

“Well, um, I think he kind of said it all.”

You let out an exasperated huff. “He did not say it all, Danny. Clearly I need you to spell it out for me.”

“We both like you and we want to have a threesome,” Danny explained and you could hear Sam laugh in the background. “That’s it. If you don’t want to, it’s totally cool. And I’ll tell him to stop sending the pictures.”

Maybe it was strange, but when you’d looked at all the photos, you’d never pictured yourself being part of the action. Sam and Danny came as a pair–clearly. Your relationship had ended because of that–and were truly, as far as you were concerned, meant for one another. To get between that seemed strange, not to mention held incredible risk to damage the friendship you were still clinging to with both of them. 

You thought about the pictures some more though and felt you landed on some middle ground, unorthodox as it was. But all of this was entirely unorthodox. “What if I watched?” you proposed.

“What? You want to?” Danny asked, the surprise in his voice ridiculous to you given what he and Sam had already proposed themselves. 

“Sure. Clearly, Sam’s into that.”

There was a slight pause, then Danny said, “Okay. Yeah, sure. We’re into that too.”

It was probably one of the worst decisions of your life. But when you hung up, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited about it.

-

You were surprised at how Sam and Danny didn’t seem to care at all that you were watching, sitting in the oversized, plush lounge chair that had been hauled from the living room to the bedroom for the big show. You were also surprised at how, as the action progressed and you were seemingly forgotten, sinking back into the walls like you were invisible, you cared less and less as well. Sam and Danny were completely enthralling to watch–Sam was lying half on top of Danny, kissing him like his best friend was made of pure magic, and Danny was cradling the back of Sam’s head like he was a precious piece of art. Both things were true in your mind–Danny was like a magical, mystical storm enveloping Sam, who was indeed a rare and beautiful work of art that needed to be treasured.

When Sam smiled into the next kiss, a lightning bolt of jealousy pierced your chest. They looked at one another like they were completely in love, probably because they were. Sam had never looked at you like that. But it made sense. You were just the last in a string of failed girlfriends before Sam finally realized who his true partner was. You could imagine that Danny had been silently waiting and beckoning Sam to come to him for good. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t deny that what you were privileged to witness was also painfully hot, even hotter when they both took their shirts off; Sam dipped his head down to begin kissing Danny’s neck and Danny’s hands roamed Sam’s shoulders and back, then up to toy with his hair. 

For the first time since they’d begun, Sam addressed you. “Isn’t he so hot?” he asked, glancing at you while he ran his fingers over Danny’s ribs. 

“Very hot,” you agreed; Danny blushed in response.

“Did you ever think about fucking him?” Sam continued. The question didn’t catch you off-guard, having expected to be a little scrutinized with all the build-up to this event. If nothing else, the conversation probably just made Sam even more turned on.

“Who hasn’t?” you replied. You had, not that you’d ever told Sam that. Not that Danny ever showed any interest. And not that Sam would have cared, you realized; on the contrary, you now knew he would have jumped at this opportunity much earlier. 

“I know, right?” Sam resumed pressing kisses to Danny’ neck, holding the side of his face; Danny nuzzled against his palm and that image made your heart swell. They adored each other so vividly and so overtly. 

“I’m surprised you’re okay with being watched, Danny,” you noted, feeling a little more apt to talking now that Sam had extended that olive branch. 

“I said I’d try it. For Sam,” Danny told you. Sam smirked against his skin and wiggled down to mouth against his chest. “I don’t mind, really. It’s just you.” 

“You like watching?” Sam inquired, peeking at you with his face still pressed against Danny’s chest, his cheek resting against his sternum.

“Yeah, it’s hot,” you said. You could feel your own body literally growing hotter by the second just watching, even more so when Sam finally brought one hand down to Danny’s crotch. Your breath hitched as Danny’s did too, and he arched up into Sam’s touch. 

“Just wait ‘til you see his dick,” Sam said, stroking Danny over his sweatpants. You could see the faint outline, impressively sized, not to your surprise. Sam brought himself to his knees and moved lower, bringing his fingers to the waistband of Danny’s pants. “It’s so big I can hardly take it.”

Your cheeks suddenly burned. “Jesus, Sam.”

Sam laughed. “What? It’s true!” 

“It is true,” Danny affirmed, putting both his hands on Sam’s head. “But you’re gonna take it tonight, right? Show Y/N how good you can be for me?”

You hadn’t, however, expected Danny to chime into the dirty talking. It seemed so out of character but it worked, and it had you rubbing your thighs together, starting to feel tortured. But you were going to try to keep up. “You let him fuck you, Sam?”

“Sure do. He’s fucking good at it too,” Sam said with a rough, low laugh. He pulled down Danny’s pants and that impressive dick was free, rock hard and looking heavy against Danny’s abdomen. You watched Danny close his eyes as Sam licked straight up his length, cradling his balls in one hand while the other was clenching tight around his hip. 

“Is Sam good at sucking dick?” you asked. Danny seemed to be enjoying it already, even with Sam just licking and jerking him off slowly.

Danny nodded, humming, and laced his fingers through Sam’s hair. “He’s so good at it. He knows just what I like. Why don’t you show her, Sammy?”

And Sam did, gripping the base of Danny’s cock to prop him up before he went down. Danny was big–the fact that Sam could take half in one go was impressive and you squeezed your thighs together harder, struggling more and more to figure out what to do with your own hands. Meanwhile, Sam knew what to do with his hands. He started to stroke Danny while he sucked and his other hand trailed up Danny’s body, palming at his chest before he slipped his fingers into Danny’s mouth. 

There was no music to curtail the sounds they were both making–Sam’s sloppy sucking and occasional gags, Danny’s muffled gasps and moans that turned to whimpers with Sam’s fingers in his mouth and his cock being worked over longer and harder. Maybe all of this should have been shocking. You never thought, not before all those pictures anyway, that Sam would go down on any man and you certainly never could have imagined you’d watch it happen, but the whole thing was far more arousing than shocking. It was like your brain couldn’t even acknowledge the surprise that should have been blatant, rather it was fixated on the pure pleasure Sam was giving to Danny and how it translated to you somehow, an invisible line connecting all three of you.

Forever, for sure. You’d have to take all of this to the grave.

Sam suddenly grunted and popped off, grinning at Danny with spit coating his chin. “Ouch, Daniel.” He turned to you. “He’s such a biter.”

You’d been too busy watching Sam going down on him to have noticed Danny chomping on his fingers. “I remember,” you said, voice just a tad wobbly which you hoped would go unnoticed. “From that picture. All those marks on your stomach.” You could still see faint pink remnants on Sam’s torso now.

“Mmm, yeah.” Sam jerked Danny off, a wet slick sound thanks to all the saliva he’d left behind, and kept his eyes on you while he asked, “Wanna watch him do it?”

You felt like you were about to burst despite no one touching you or touching yourself, but the idea of Danny doing that was too enticing to turn down. You also felt it was possible that such a long delay before your own ecstasy could make it all even more incredible. So you said yes and quickly Sam flopped onto his back, encouraging Danny to come to him with outstretched arms, but he had to wait a moment–Danny fumbled on the bed for a few seconds trying to get his pants all the way off and his struggle elicited a much-needed laugh from you and Sam.

“Stop laughing,” Danny protested with a final kick, sending the sweatpants to the floor. “Getting naked isn’t always like, a graceful thing.”

“You’re not as bad as Sam,” you assured him, and Sam shot you an insulted look. “He just tears everything off like an animal. No grace at all.”

“I like doing it for him,” Danny said. He kissed Sam on the mouth softly, deeply, and Sam’s arms circled his shoulders, bringing him even closer. You watched closely, glued to the chair, as Danny brushed Sam’s hair back and brought his mouth to his neck; you’d always loved kissing Sam’s neck, too. Would he make the same sorts of sounds when Danny did it? 

The soft sigh that Sam let out when Danny kissed along his throat was similar, yet still different. There was more desperation in that sound, especially when Danny carried on gently for another few moments before you saw him sink his teeth right in. Sam shuddered and clawed at Danny’s shoulders, and suddenly you were wondering what Danny’s mouth would feel like on you. 

“Yeah, Sam loves when I mark him up,” Danny purred, trailing his increasingly harsh and teeth-filled kisses down Sam’s torso. He stopped at Sam’s belly, his teeth pressing into the soft skin as he pulled down his shorts. Seeing Sam’s dick was nothing new for you, but when Danny abruptly grabbed Sam by the hips to toss him over, then lifted him onto his knees, that was an entirely new sight. 

Danny gripped Sam’s ass while he dove right in and took a bite into one cheek like he really was trying to eat him; Sam yelped and you gasped. It looked like it hurt–when Danny pulled back, there was already an angry red mark, but then Sam moaned and laughed a little.

“God, Sam. I didn’t know you were like this,” you remarked, perplexed and fascinated and so turned on that you had to sit right on top of your hands. “I’ve never seen you so–I don’t know. Submissive.”

“He’s a good boy for me,” Danny said, the words low and deep, and pet his hands up Sam’s sides. You could see that–Sam was perfectly pliant beneath Danny’s touch, like he was just waiting for whatever happened next, and so responsive to everything. Danny looked at you and his next question, though you’d been secretly waiting for it, nearly made you collapse out of the chair: “Wanna help him get ready?”

You balked for a moment, wide-eyed and so stiff from all the pent up excitement and curiosity. “Ready for–?”

Sam snapped his head to the side, peering at you sharply through his hair that had fallen into his face. “Ready to fuck me, obviously,” he snarked, but when Danny grabbed his hips hard and gave another bite to his ass, he quivered and his voice softened as he added, “Get over here, Y/N. We need you.”

That short sentence circled around in your mind, urging you to move but you felt like you couldn’t–the thought of getting up fully clothed to just wander over to what was happening on the bed seemed awkward and silly. Clearly your trepidation didn’t go unnoticed, because Danny was walking over to you, naked as the day he was born, and lifted you up. 

“Don’t be scared,” he said in your ear, pushing you onward while he stayed behind you, his erection unceremoniously pressing against your lower back. 

“I’m not scared,” you said, but you gasped again when Danny tugged at your pants and Sam was suddenly right in front of you yanking on the hem of your shirt. Helpless, you let them both strip you down to your bra and panties; Sam leaned back on his hands with a grin while you felt Danny move in even closer, his hands stroking your hips. 

“Is that okay?” Danny asked, his lips on your ear. 

“Yeah, sure,” was all you could say. You shivered when Sam reached one of his hands out to lightly press his fingers to the crotch of your panties. 

“It was really hot for you to watch,” Sam said, drawing a line down your thigh with one fingertip. “Danny was nervous about it. Performance anxiety, you know. But–” He leaned to the side to look behind you. “It looks like he’s doing just fine.”

You were feeling more relaxed–Sam was back to himself, at least momentarily, and Danny was keeping his touches gentle and tentative. “You guys look like you’re made for each other. It makes sense why we didn’t work out.”

Sam frowned a little. “I feel bad about that, Y/N. I didn’t even know how into Danny I was until, well, pretty recently.”

Danny gave a little snort. “Please. I think everyone but you could see it pretty clearly.”

Sam rolled his eyes before he sighed and looked back at you. “You should try kissing him,” he suggested, leaning back once more. “It’s totally serendipitous.”

You could imagine. You turned in Danny’s arms; he smiled at you so sweetly that you were wrapped up in his softness, not even realizing he was single handedly bringing you down to the bed to lie next to Sam. Then he was kissing you as tenderly as he’d smiled at you and you felt you understood what Sam must have been feeling while you’d been watching earlier–kissing Danny was like magic. 

You were feeling quite fulfilled just from making out and touching–Danny was so warm and so firm, his muscles taut beneath your fingers, his hair so soft–but then he was abruptly being pulled away from you. “Alright, back to business,” Sam commanded, yanking Danny away by his hair, to which Danny was grimacing and reaching up untangle Sam’s fingers. 

“Ha!” Danny exclaimed when Sam freed him. “You’re jealous.”

You’d never seen Sam jealous before, actually, but now that Danny was pointing it out, you could see it clearly–the darkness in his eyes beneath furrowed brows, the exaggerated slant of his cheekbones as he pouted, the flush on his cheeks. 

“You’re supposed to make it even during threesomes,” Sam said, looking from Danny to you then back again. Jealous or not, he was still hard, you noticed. “You have to divvy up the attention, Daniel and Y/N.”

“Fine,” Danny said shortly. “Then get on your knees again.” Instead of waiting even one second for Sam to do it himself, he grabbed his ankles and rolled him over again.

“Such a dom,” Sam said with a chuckle.

“God,” was all you could say, breathless at being involved now, not just witnessing. You needed to see more though and you were starting to understand your place in all this–you moved up to sit in front of Sam, lightly touching his face. “Hey, Sam–can I kiss you?”

He smirked at you, though you felt he had no right to when he was in such a vulnerable position, his ass quite literally in Danny’s face. “I thought you’d never ask,” Sam said, inching forward on his elbows, an image so ridiculous that you almost laughed. Instead, you brought your smile to his lips and kissed him for the first time in months–it should have felt ordinary but it didn’t. It felt brand new, strange and a little scary, made even scarier by the sudden popping sound that broke out from below.

You pulled away to identify the source, which was Danny squeezing lube onto his fingers. “Where’d you get that?” you asked, keeping your hands on Sam’s shoulders.

Danny chuckled, closing the cap of the bottle. “It was already on the bed.” With his dry hand he lifted a strip of condoms from the mattress and waved them around. “We came prepared.”

You grimaced; Sam and Danny both laughed. “Well, um–that’s good,” you said, but jeez. When had your ex-boyfriend and his best friend become such sex-crazed maniacs? It wasn’t the condoms or the lube–it was the fact that Sam was wiggling his hips back to Danny and Danny was squeezing one of his ass cheeks, anticipation evident on his face. 

“Are you good?” Sam asked, propping himself up on his knees to get directly in front of you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Yeah, uh, I’m very good,” you stammered, running a hand through your hair and nearly knocking Sam in the face in the process. “It’s just–a lot to process.”

Danny moved right behind Sam, holding him so you were all pressed together like an obscene panini. “Yeah, it is for us, too,” he said, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulders. “You’re the only one we’d wanna do this with.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sam said. “I’m keeping my options open.”

“You’re fucking rude, Sam,” you said, but all the distractions kept any real heat away from your voice. 

Sam laughed, that loud cackle that nearly made the walls vibrate. “I’m kidding, Y/N!” He grabbed your face and pulled you forward to plant a fast, harsh kiss to your mouth before he snapped back and said, looking over his shoulder at Danny, “Now let’s get this show on the road, big guy. Show her what you’re made of.” 

That certainly did set things in motion, with Danny moving swiftly to get Sam back down in front of you; Sam planted his face in your lap and grabbed your hips, hastily pulling your underwear down. You weren’t sure where to fix your eyes–at Danny kissing Sam’s spine and his arm moving vaguely below or Sam tossing your panties to the floor, then latching his teeth to your inner thigh.

You let out a flustered breath and unhooked your bra. “Since everyone else is doing it–”

Sam’s voice was faintly muffled with his face between your legs: “That’s the spirit.” Though it shouldn’t have, the swipe of his tongue up your center came as a surprise, but not as much of a surprise as the loud keen that came from him as Danny perked up behind him, looking at both of you. 

“Oh my god,” you uttered, trembling as you met Danny’s gaze. “Are you–”

“I’m getting him ready,” Danny answered as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. When you straightened up a bit, you got a better peek at what Danny’s hands were doing–one was gripping Sam’s hip and the other was thrusting idly. “I gotta open him up.” He draped himself over Sam’s back, his own upper body long enough for his own dark curls to mix with Sam’s sleek chestnut hair. “How do you want it, Sammy? Nice and easy or hard and fast?”

Sam gave an upwards nod at you. “Whatever she wants to see.”

Being given a clear say in this matter triggered a need for vengeance that you hadn’t even known existed. “Hard and fast,” you told Danny. He looked a little surprised, eyes widening slightly and lips parting; you tugged Sam’s hair a bit to make him look up at you again. “I bet that’s how you really like it, isn’t it?”

Of course Sam wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of feeling like revenge was ever possible. He laughed softly and said, “I like it however Danny likes it.”

Danny pulled back. “Which just happens to be hard and fast,” he said, and you caught a glimpse of him thrusting his hand forward again and Sam let out a choked little whimper, then a bitten-back groan as Danny gave a shockingly sharp, hard smack to his ass. 

You had nothing to say to that. You simply tried to process what the hell was happening all around you once more, which was a good thing; you couldn’t exactly speak when Sam began nipping at your thigh and sliding two fingers inside of you. You kept your hands in his hair and fought the urge to close your eyes–you wanted to see as much as you could of Danny working his own fingers in and out of Sam and the way your ex-boyfriend’s body moved so sinuously with every motion. Sam pressed his tongue to your clit again, licking with impressive intention given the position he was in, while his soft grunts got muffled against your heat. 

“How’s that feel?” Danny asked, and you weren’t sure if he was asking you or Sam or both of you.

“Good,” you said at the same time Sam said, “Amazing.” He looked up with suspicion. “Just ‘good?’ Alright, guess I have to work harder.” He brought his face back down, lapping at your clit wetly while his fingers worked deeper and harder through your own wetness. You felt a little embarrassed at how you were already dampening the sheet beneath you but you couldn’t help it–this was by far the most wild and the hottest sexual experience of your life. It made you a little mad that Sam being a kind of shitty boyfriend had to be the lead up to it. 

Danny hummed. “So, Sam–think you’re ready?”

Sam nodded between your thighs, then looked up, his lips and chin shiny with your slick and his spit. “I’ve got an idea,” he began, lifting himself up and using your legs for leverage. “Get under me. That way, it’ll be like getting fucked by both of us.” He laughed a little, looking very satisfied with his own suggestion. “Except I'll still be getting fucked the way I want.” 

“Always about you,” you muttered, a futile sort of defense mechanism against this very bewildering idea. But Sam only pulled you down as much as he could, until you were halfway down the bed and halfway beneath him.

Danny, you could tell based on the crinkling sound, was getting a condom on; you watched him slip one to Sam, who wasted no time in tearing it open. His abdomen flexed as he stayed upright on his knees and rolled the condom over his own cock; you reached out to touch him, his body still so familiar. The onset of an ache, of wanting Sam so badly, began to override the ache for punishing him. Maybe all of this was an apology in and of itself. 

“I gotta get in you before he gets me,” Sam said. His voice was calm but his cheeks were vivid scarlet and sweat beaded on his hairline. You spread your legs and got your arms around his waist, both bringing him down to you and giving yourself some much-needed stability, and Sam slid into you like it was any other ordinary time, except for Danny’s hands looping around his chest and bringing his chin back to Sam’s shoulder. 

The slide was easy–probably far easier than Sam’s experience would be, you thought–and Danny watched while he sank his teeth into Sam’s skin, the swirling forest of his irises fixed on yours in a way that would have made you feel self-conscious if it weren’t for Sam overtaking you being so distracting. 

“God, you feel good,” Sam said quietly, giving a shallow thrust. That was enough to make you moan softly in response, gripping his middle more tightly. Your arms were brushing against Danny’s abdomen; Danny brought one hand to your forearm as if encouraging you both to keep going, so Sam did with a few more gentle shoves of his hips. As you were just getting used to the sensation of three bodies of increasing heat coming together, Sam’s cock sliding through your wetness and his hands squeezing your breasts, Danny shifted and Sam’s serene face turned to an open-mouthed, tense visage.

“That’s it, Sammy,” Danny encouraged. There was so much love in his voice that it made you feel loved too, though it was obvious in that moment he was wholly focused on Sam. Rightfully so. Sam responded viscerally not only with his facial expressions that only you could see, but with his voice, cursing softly and moaning low, and the full-body shudder that ran through him as Danny pushed forward. 

You could imagine it being a bit of a challenge to take Danny yourself; the fact that Sam could do it was actually a little amazing. “God, Sam,” you said, stroking his hair. The soft reverence emanating from Danny made you feel the same–this was an experience to be treasured no matter how it went. “This is so hot. You guys look really hot together.” 

“He feels so good. Literally so hot,” Danny said. He leaned over Sam again, making Sam push down on you, and subsequently into you, harder. Danny was fully in charge now, something you were entirely unopposed to–you watched, fascinated, as he began to move, his hands wandering over Sam’s chest and hips while he started to thrust. He built up a rhythm swiftly and easily, soon enough making Sam let out moans that became choked little sobbing sounds as Danny started to live up to expectations–he was fucking Sam hard and fast and you were on the receiving end of the last gyrations and echoes of his movements. 

You grabbed the back of Sam’s head, pulling him in to kiss. There was just barely enough room to snake your arm between the two of your bodies; your first two fingers made a V around the base of Sam’s cock, stroking him lightly before you brought them to circle your clit. Sam’s desperate moans were drowned out by your incessant kissing–you wanted to consume him like Danny did, or as close to it as possible.

Between pants and huffs of effort, Danny’s voice snaked through your ears: “Do you like it, Sammy?” he asked and you opened your ears, giving Sam some necessary air and giving yourself quite the view as you strained to the side. Danny’s thighs were flexing with each thrust and his hands had a stronghold around Sam’s hips; Sam was all wobbly limbs and flushed skin, his hands clamped on your shoulders. 

“Yeah,” was all Sam said. It was probably all he could say while Danny pounded into him. 

Danny’s eyebrows rose. “What was that?” You bit your lip as Sam’s face tensed, his eyes shut tight, and waited for Sam to respond, but he didn’t. He only moaned a little, quiet and subdued, then the tension was slashed to pieces by another hard smack against his ass. “Sam?” 

“Fuck!” Sam was explosive now with that one word, fucking himself back onto Danny and, subsequently, harder into you as he shifted back and forth. Words escaped you entirely as you just tried to ride through the dense waves, but Danny apparently had more.

“Tell Y/N how much you like this,” Danny demanded, yanking Sam’s head back by a fistful of hair, Sam squirming helplessly all the way. 

“Oh my god, I like it,” Sam let out breathlessly, trying to look back at Danny. With the additional space, you touched yourself again more freely. Your chest and stomach felt so tight, this huge buildup growing even more–the fear surrounding this was gone. The anticipation had been alleviated and the payoff was more than you’d ever imagined, because the image of Danny holding Sam’s hip while he pulled his hair, his lips roaming Sam’s neck, and Sam desperately trying to please both of you was the most incredible thing you’d ever seen. 

It was Danny's name that escaped your lips as you came, eyes shutting to dizzying blackness, shuddering violently beneath Sam and squeezing his cock tight inside you. Even in the throes of your own little explosion, you realized what you’d said and managed to say Sam’s name next, and reached for him with one hand. 

“Oh fuck, I like that too,” Sam said against your cheek, teeth then dragging down to your neck. “You coming around me while Danny fucks me. So fucking hot.” 

“Fuck, you guys–” you started to say, still out of breath, and tangled your fingers in Sam’s hair, trying to keep him close. “This is–wow. Are you close?”

“Sam’s ready to blow,” Danny answered, not showing any sign of slowing down. “He’s getting even tighter and–” He peeked down, then Sam gasped. “Yup, his balls are full. You gonna come for us, Sam?”

“Danny, where’d you learn how to dirty talk like this?” you questioned, genuinely flabbergasted by how easily the more easygoing, friendly and sometimes exceptionally shy and boyish side could give way to a man who was so in charge, so lustful, so commanding.

“He’s a secret slut,” Sam quipped, which got him another slap on the ass. He laughed a little, then you were caught in the dark again when he began to kiss you. Based on just that, it did seem like Sam was close–the kisses were getting sloppier, the stifled moans sharper, his hands squeezing your body harder. And when he did come, it wasn’t exactly what you were used to because Sam also moaned Danny’s name, both syllables whispered on your lips.

“That’s good, baby,” Danny cooed. Your vision was a bit fuzzy as you tried to look right at him, but you could see quite clearly how tenderly those big hands moved down Sam’s trembling back. The gentleness was short-lived–Danny went back into thrusting harshly, their muscles clashing against one another’s, Danny’s fingers raking down Sam’s sides. You’d never seen Danny come. Never thought you ever would. You thought that would be forever reserved for Sam now that they’d gotten together. So, enthralled once more, you stayed transfixed on him as he closed his eyes and lurched forward, his upper body hanging over Sam, his curls shielding parts of his face. But you could see the twitch of a brow and the parting of his lips, then the white teeth biting down, and then Danny let himself go entirely. He flopped down on top of Sam, who collapsed on top of you.

“Okay, jeez, you guys are heavy,” you noted after getting the wind knocked out of you. Sam stayed motionless, but Danny had the decency to get up. You turned your head to the side to watch him move off the bed, carefully roll the condom off himself and grab his pants from the floor. You considered asking him to stay naked because, well, why not? But then Sam groaned loudly, interrupting your thoughts.

“I’m gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow,” he declared, finally rolling off you, spreading out on his back; he stretched and you heard a crack come from somewhere. “Thanks, Daniel.”

Danny stepped over to pat Sam’s thigh. “You’re welcome.” He looked over at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I–” you paused, trying to find the right words, but first you needed to find your clothes again. Sam might have been comfortable living nude as often as he could, but you needed some sense of familiar security around you after all that. As you got redressed, you continued: “I felt many things during all that, honestly. It was kinda fun to see Sam getting wrecked.” Danny beamed at that, which almost made you laugh, which made Sam actually laugh. “I think you guys really are great together and I’m happy for you. But breaking up still really hurt.”

Danny gave a sympathetic frown then, his eyes becoming softer; Sam crawled over to your seat at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I really am,” he said, sounding shockingly genuine. “I should’ve been a better boyfriend while I was still your boyfriend.”

“It’s okay, Sam, honestly,” you assured him, patting the arm that had wrapped around you. “It’s over and, really, it was fine. You were just in love with someone else. Better being in love with Danny than some random stranger or something.”

“Maybe if he’d told me sooner, we wouldn’t have ended up in that whole mess.”

Danny scoffed, planting his hands on his hips as he stood in front of both of you. “I sent you like, a million signals, Sam. You were pretty much the only person who didn't realize sooner.”

“It’s true,” you chimed in. “Looking back, Danny never really tried to hide anything.”

Sam sighed, then hopped off the bed and plastered himself against Danny’s side. “Okay, well, we didn’t hide anything tonight, did we?” He reached down and grabbed Danny’s crotch while kissing his cheek.

Danny hissed and slapped Sam’s hand away. “Too much too soon.”

“Never too much,” Sam replied, sneaking in another kiss, holding Danny close. “Never too soon.”

“Ugh.” You got to your feet, too. “Too much sappy romance for me.”

Sam cackled and grabbed your hand. “No, don’t leave. The night can’t end like this.”

“Yeah, we all at least need a few shots or a bowl or something,” Danny agreed with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “And a shower. Definitely a shower.”

“I get to go first,” Sam announced, breaking free and jetting out of the room, leaving you with a final image of his reddened ass, all thanks to Danny. 

So then it was just you and Danny standing in the middle of the bedroom where so many unexpected, wild and beautiful things had happened. You looked at the chair that you’d been sitting in, so unassuming, then to the disheveled bed, and Danny put one arm around your shoulders.

“Thanks for doing this, Y/N,” he said. “Sam still talks about you all the time. He really cares about you. I think he respects you a lot, too.”

“I’ll always care about him,” you told Danny. His touch was as comforting as your clothes, weirdly enough. You were starting to understand more and more why Sam was so smitten with him. “I care about you too, Danny.”

From the hallway, Sam shouted, “Do you care enough about me to let my boyfriend get in the shower with me?” 

Danny rolled his eyes while you laughed. “Okay, big guy,” you said, steering him out of the room. “You get in there while I get the drinks.”

---

Tagging no one (RIP my old fandom). If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, you can go HERE or DM me!

Sanguine Osculum

Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction.

Vampire!Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Standard warnings for a vampire fic, along with 18+ themes in future chapters.

You'd heard the stories, of course. Deep in the woods, a desolate manor stood. The family who once called it home, they said, had all fallen victim to some illness, leaving the once bustling estate empty and unkempt.

But those who decided to explore it always spoke of an energy that seemed to exist there, of a presence that resided within the worn-down walls. Believers suggest that the spirits of the four young brothers who had once lived there still wandered the halls, unable to accept that they're no longer alive. Others just say it's a creepy old manor, empty and alone. These claims ignited a fire of curiosity within you, and you were itching to explore the place yourself.

The family, it seemed, had originated from somewhere in Europe, their lineage a long line of nobility and prestige. They were revered, held in high regard, as if royalty. Upon arriving here, however, their once illustrious name faded into obscurity. They vanished from the public eye, retreating into the confines of their manor.

This only added to your intrigue, if you were being honest. What secrets lie waiting in that old manor? Was it really haunted?

You decided one afternoon that you were going to find out for yourself, which is how you ended up stood in front of the dilapidated manor, a large pack on your back and anticipation thrumming under your skin.

The manor, once a symbol of opulence and prosperity, now sat in a state of disrepair and loneliness. Time had not been kind to the large estate, with ivy creeping up the decaying walls, nature reclaiming what was once its own. The windows, many shattered, stared out into the world with hollow eyes, as if yearning for what it once was.

The doors were still functional, with a large, ornate knocker staring back at you. Just for the hell of it, you lifted the heavy iron knocker and let it hit the door once, the noise echoing through the halls.

Nothing seemed to jump out at you, no ghosts, no squatters, no animals, so you assumed the place really was empty. You pushed the heavy door open with your shoulder, grateful you had worn something you didn't mind getting messed up as a loose splinter tore a small rip in your sleeve.

While the outside of the manor was in a rather sad state, the inside was surprisingly intact. It was dusty, sure, and some things here and there seemed damaged, but most of the furniture and knicknacks still sat as if no time had passed.

The foyer, once a grand entrance hall, greeted you with faded elegance. The air hung heavy with the scent of neglect, mingling with the faint aroma of aged wood and mothballs. Rays of sunlight filtered through the cracked and dusty windows, casting a dappled light on the old wooden floors. The faded paintings on the walls, still intact beneath the layers of dust, spoke of a time when this place was alive with laughter and vibrant conversations.

You were glad you had decided to bring your camera with you, eager to get photos of this beautiful place. Even the kitchen was elegant; black and white stone floor, white brick walls, and dark stained wood throughout the room spoke of the wealth of the family who once lived here. You wondered what kind of meals they enjoyed that were prepared here.

Your feet carried you to what seemed to be a ballroom of sorts. A large grand piano sat in a corner, intricate carvings decorating its glossy exterior. You were surprised by the lack of dust on it, as if someone took care of it.

The room itself was vast, adorned with chandeliers that hung precariously from the ceiling, their crystal droplets dulled and tarnished. The walls, once adorned with opulent tapestries and intricate artwork, now displayed faded remnants of their former glory. Gossamer curtains, moth-eaten and tattered, danced with the breeze that seeped through the broken windows, casting eerie shadows on the worn parquet floor.

As you reached the old piano, you felt a shiver up your spine. It felt like there were eyes on you, silently watching from some darkened corner. Looking around the sprawling ballroom revealed nothing, not even a mouse scuttling across the floor. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn't shake that feeling.

And maybe you were just overly superstitious, but you didn't want to risk having a ghost angry at you for touching their stuff without asking.

"I-" You spoke up, stuttering at the way your voice echoed throughout the empty room, "I hope you don't mind if I play your piano. I won't break it, I promise."

And suddenly, you felt the tension in the room disappear, as if whoever was watching you was giving you permission.

You gently sat on the wooden bench, letting your fingers drift to the keys. Playing it, you were surprised to find it was still mostly in-key. You didn't know how to play much on the piano, just some simple melodies, but you enjoyed playing it, nonetheless. To be able to play a piece of history was so exciting to you.

You still felt watched as you played, but the gaze felt more curious now. Once you finished playing, you stood from the piano and glanced around the large room.

"Thanks for letting me play. I'll leave you be now," You say again to the seemingly empty room before heading back to the front room.

The sweeping staircase, its banister worn but still sturdy, beckoned you to explore the upper floors. Each step you took echoed through the empty space, reminding you of the tragedy that took place here. You couldn't help but wonder about the lives that once ascended these steps, the footsteps that once filled the hollow emptiness.

Rooms branched off from the main staircase, some to the left and some to the right. The right seemed to be bedrooms, which you left for later. The first room you came across was a library.

As you stepped into the dimly lit space, you couldn't help but be captivated by the sight before you. The room was lined from floor to ceiling with towering bookshelves, their wooden frames weathered by time. The shelves were filled with rows upon rows of books, their spines bearing the weight of forgotten stories and hidden knowledge.

Sunlight filtered through the dust-laden windows, casting an ethereal glow that danced upon the countless volumes. Each ray seemed to breathe life into the forgotten tales, giving them a chance to whisper their secrets once more. You could almost imagine the whispers of the authors, their words suspended in the air, waiting for someone to pick them up.

You ran your fingers along the books as you made your way deeper into the room, marveling at the fragility of their spines and the delicate scent of aged parchment that filled the air. The room was silent, save for the faint rustling of pages as the wind tiptoed through the cracks in the windows.

As you reached the center of the library, your eyes were drawn to an ornate desk, tucked away in a corner. The desk stood proud, its surface adorned with intricate carvings of flowers and vines. You felt watched once more, but this gaze was different. It was wary, but more gentle.

Speaking eased the tension last time, so you decided to do so again.

"Hello... I'm just here to look around. I won't take any of the books."

And again, the air felt calmer. You were certain there was a presence here, but it didn't seem angry or violent. Just... watchful. Careful of it's possessions.

You read some of the papers that sat on the desk. They seemed to be poems, or maybe songs, your eyes trailing along the faded ink. You didn't stay in the library very long, the dust making your throat tickle. You thanked the unseen presence again before moving on.

The room next door was a music room of some sort. Various instruments lay around the room, though two caught your interest: a beautiful violin and a very old guitar. At this point, you weren't surprised when you felt watched again, though this time, you felt a bit of annoyance seep into the room. You decided it would be best to leave the instruments alone; whatever was watching you seemed protective of them.

"I won't touch your things, I promise."

The tension cooled slightly, but you could still tell that you weren't wanted in here.

"Sorry if I'm intruding... I'll take my leave now."

You quickly exited the music room, letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You decided to leave that room be for now; whatever was in there didn't want you in there with it.

The last room on the left side was a sitting room, bathed in the faint light of the slowly setting sun. As you stepped inside, your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged wood and lingering spirits.

An ornate bar, its polished surface covered by empty liquor bottles, commanded attention, taking up a large portion of the room. Crystal decanters, now empty and collecting dust, stood alongside tarnished glasses.

On the other end of the room, nestled beneath the glow of an antique chandelier, sat a cluster of chairs. Their faded upholstery now bore the marks of time, their frayed edges and worn cushions a result of the passage of years. A pool table, its green baize cloth marked with faint traces of chalk, stood nearby, its wooden frame showing signs of wear and tear.

You set your bag down and sank into one of the large chairs, the worn leather creaking softly beneath your weight. It was then that you felt it—an inexplicable shift in the atmosphere, as if the room had come alive with an unseen presence. The air crackled with a tangible energy, and a shiver danced its way down your spine.

The feeling of being watched returned, but this time, it was different. It was no longer a mere gaze, but a physical presence that settled in the room with you. You could almost feel the wamth of another person, almost feel the subtle disturbance of the air as they moved.

And then, in the periphery of your vision, you saw it. There was a flicker of movement, a shadow cast against the wall. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned your head, eyes narrowing in an attempt to make sense of the mysterious figure that now stood before you.

You could see dark curly hair and a white ruffled shirt, like the ones you'd see in those period dramas. Curious, dark eyes stared back at you as you stood on shaking legs, unsure of what you were looking at. The figure stepped closer, and you could finally see the rest of his features.

He was handsome, and reminded you of the old Greek statues you'd seen at the art museum once. There was something off about him, though, and his movements were too quiet for your liking.

It took a minute to find your voice, and it trembled once you did.

"H-Hello... I'm sorry for intruding..."

The young man looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow before finally speaking.

"You should leave. Your kind shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

His voice was low and rough, but there was a softer tone to the second half, as if he were genuinely concerned for you.

"U-um... okay..."

You glanced at the door, slowly walking to it and keeping your distance from the man.

"Can I ask if you're-"

"You really should take your leave. It's not wise to be here right now," he repeated.

You decided to take heed of his warning, slipping out of the room and back into the hallway. The air felt different than before, as if the manor itself was watching you. You quickly headed back down the staircase and out the front door, your heart thumping out of your chest.

Honestly you hadn't even realized it was so late, too enveloped in exploring. Reaching for your cell phone, you came back empty handed.

Shit. You left your bag upstairs.

You couldn't just leave it behind; you didn't have that kind of money. And your camera was in it too, and you definitely didn't want to lose that.

So, with a deep breath, you re-entered the manor. Climbing the stairs, you felt like you were making a mistake, but you continued on. You had to.

As you reached the landing, you could see the door leading to the sitting room standing ajar, a sliver of light peeking through the crack. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears as you approached cautiously, one hesitant step at a time.

Pushing the door open, you entered the room once again, your eyes instantly drawn to the spot where you had left your bag. It lay there, innocently perched upon the worn chair, waiting patiently for your return.

With a sigh of relief, you hurriedly retrieved your bag, pulling it over your shoulders before turning around and running directly into the young man from before.

"Why are you still here?" He asked, worry in his tone.

"I- um, forgot my things..." You replied, shocked that he wasn't a ghost like you first though. His body was physical, clearly, as you had run into him. His skin was cooler than your own, but not wildly so.

"Leave now. Please," He gently pushed you out of the room, and his tone worried you.

In your rush to head down the stairs, however, you slipped. You felt the ground approaching your face, and closed your eyes as you braced yourself for impact. But it never came. Instead, you felt gentle arms around you, and a new voice spoke quietly into your ear.

"Easy, Darling..."

You opened your eyes and looked up, your eyes meeting honey brown ones. This was a different young man, his short brown hair slicked back, showing off his soft features and slight stubble. He wore an off white ruffled shirt with a fancy jacket over it, his dainty features giving him a charming look overall.

"You should be more careful, Darling. You could've gotten hurt."

He had a boyish tone to his voice and didn't look like he was much different in age to yourself, though you could've been wrong. His hands were a bit clammy, but you ignored it as he helped you to the front door.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It's quite alright, Darling," He cut you off, before smiling softly, "Now, I must ask you to head back home. You shouldn't linger around strange places so late..."

You swallowed and nodded, not missing the way he looked you up and down, his gaze landing back on your face.

"As lovely as it was to meet you and listen to you play, Darling, I must ask that you not return. It's simply for your own safety. Oh, and don't tell anyone you saw us. We don't like visitors..."

You nodded again. You certainly wouldn't be telling anyone about this. It's not like they'd believe you.

The young man smiled again, giving you a slight bow.

"Have a lovely night, Darling," He whispered, closing the door once more.

As you drove home that night, only one thought filled your head.

You had to go back to that place.

-------

The manor seemed just as empty as before when you decided to return, just days later. The overgrown ivy still twisted around the stone walls, casting eerie shadows in the fading light of dusk. The looming structure stood as a silent sentinel, guarding its secrets within. The heavy oak door beckoned you forward, its intricate carvings a stark contrast to the peeling paint and weathered facade. You wondered for a moment if you imagined the strange people who you had met the last time.

You were tempted to raise the heavy knocker once again, but you knew deep down that you would get no response. The manor still seemed abandoned, frozen in time, a relic of a bygone era. Yet, faintly, you could hear what sounded like music drifting through the air, carried on a haunting melody.

Intrigued and unable to resist the allure of the sound, you stepped into the manor once more. The music was drawing you deeper into its depths, the soft creaking of floorboards beneath your feet adding to the somber ambiance that surrounded you.

After a minute of wandering the lower halls, you finally reached the grand ballroom. The doors stood ajar, revealing a scene straight out of a dream— or perhaps out of a period drama.

In the corner of the room, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a figure sat at the grand piano. His fingers danced across the keys with effortless grace, conjuring a haunting melody that seemed to reach the very core of your being.

Stepping closer, you recognized him as the young man from before, the one who caught you on the stairs. You couldn't see much of his face from where you stood, but managed to see that his eyes were closed and he seemed to move with the music. His brow would furrow and relax with the highs and lows of the melody, and his mouth hung slightly open, quiet mumbles spilling out unconsciously.

The scene before you was captivating, almost surreal in its beauty and mystery. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across the room, adding an ethereal quality to the young man's performance. The melody he played seemed to echo through the vast ballroom, filling the space with a sense of melancholy and longing.

As you watched him, you couldn't help but be drawn in by his music. Each note was played with such emotion and skill, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys. It was as though the piano was an extension of his own body, each chord and harmony a reflection of himself.

His body swayed with the music, his movements fluid and graceful. You could sense the passion and dedication he poured into his playing, his entire being consumed by the haunting melody that filled the room. It was a performance unlike any other, and one you knew he expected no one to see.

As the music reached a crescendo, his eyes fluttered open, revealing depths of honey brown that seemed to hold a thousand thoughts at once. But then, he played a sour note, his body going stiff as he slowly turned to make eye contact with you.

"What are you doing here...?" He asked, his voice laced with confusion, "I thought I asked you not to come back."

He stood quickly, his movements as graceful as a dancer.

"I'm sorry... I just- I had to... I needed to make sure what I saw last time was real..." You tried to explain, stumbling over your words as he approached.

"As much as I'd love to keep your company, darling, you can't be here," He whispered, using that name again. The one that only made you want to stay here longer. He stopped a few feet away from you and stood so still you couldn't even see him breathe. It was as if he was afraid to come closer, or even breathe the same air as you.

"Why is it so dangerous to be here?" You asked, taking a step forward, "That's what the other boy said too, the one with the curly black hair."

The young man tilted his head to the side, "Curly black hair... you met Daniel?" His confusion turned to concern, "You didn't happen to meet anyone else, did you?"

You shook your head.

He reached out, as if to turn you towards the door, "Then you still have a chance to leave. I'd do so before either of them know you're snooping around here again-"

"Sam?"

Another man's voice echoed down from the top of the stairs, and the brown haired boy, Sam apparently, stiffened.

"Damnit..." He muttered, grabbing your arm and leading you to a closet, "Stay in here and do not make a sound. Just trust me."

With that, he pushed you in and shut the door, leaving you in the dark, dusty storage closet. You pressed your ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from outside.

The muffled voices of Sam and the newcomer drifted through the wooden barrier, "Sam? Who's down here with you?" This voice was lower and had a slight rasp to it compared to Sam's more boyish tone.

"There's no one here, Jake. It's just me."

The other man, Jake, seemed to be unsure of that answer, his footsteps coming every so slightly closer.

"I can smell that someone else was here, Sam. You know that no one can-"

"Jake, it's probably just from the person who was here the other day. They were messing with my piano, so it probably still has their scent," Sam explained, though you didn't understand what he meant. You didn't stink, did you? You sniffed yourself but could only smell the dust and mildew in the closet. It tickled your nose, and you did all you could to hold in the sneeze threatening to come out.

"Maybe... I just don't like it when people come snooping around. If any of them find out, they'll be here with pitchforks and torches by nightfall."

Unfortunately, you could only hold in the sneeze for so long.

"Achoo! ... shit..."

The sound echoed through the dark, dusty closet, interrupting the stillness that had enveloped the space. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized your cover had been blown. The muffled voices of Sam and Jake abruptly halted, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to last forever despite it only being a few moments.

The closet door was suddenly flung open as you locked eyes with who you assumed was Jake. His brown hair fell effortlessly to his shoulders, and there was an undeniable elegance about him, an air of regality that seemed to set him apart from the others. His outfit was different too; a red vest and jacket that showed off much of his chest and the necklaces that lay there, paired with red suit pants and white pointed dress shoes

But it was his eyes that captivated you the most. Like Sam's, they were a piercing amber-brown, but there was something about the way Jake looked at you that made you shiver. It was as if he was looking through you instead of at you. It was both unsettling and electrifying.

His lips curled into a snarl, revealing unusually sharp teeth that glinted in the sparse illumination, adding to his menacing demeanor. Without a word, he grabbed the front of your shirt, his grip firm and unyielding as he backed you against the wall.

With his face mere inches from yours, you could see every detail of his nearly perfect skin. His gaze bore into you, as if searching for answers you were not even sure you had. The intensity in his eyes was like a storm brewing, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.

"Who the hell are you, and why are you here?" His voice was low and dangerous, each word dripping with anger. The weight of his question pressed down on you, demanding a response that you struggled to form.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sound of your own fearful breaths. In that moment, you felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a cat, helpless and exposed.

The seconds stretched on, each heartbeat echoing in your ears like a drumbeat of impending danger. The dim light cast shadows across Jake's face, accentuating the sharp angles and the intensity of his gaze. It was as if time itself had slowed down, trapping you in this moment of uncertainty and fear.

But just as you thought you might crumble under the weight of his scrutiny, Sam spoke up, placing a hand on Jake's arm, "Let them go, Jake. I promise they're not a threat to us."

Jake's grip on your shirt loosened slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on you, "You know their kind and our kind aren't exactly friends, right, Sam? What's stopping them from ratting us out the second they leave?"

Ratting them out about what? For being weirdos living in some old manor in the woods?

"I- I won't say anything! I swear on my life!" You manage to blurt out, the words tumbling out of you in a desperate plea.

Sam butted in again, "Jake, please. It's the one chance we have to see what people are up to now. Please?" He sounded like a child begging their parent to let them keep a new pet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake released his hold on you, stepping back with a wary look in his eyes, "Fine. But if you say one word to anyone, I'll gut you."

Jake turned on his heel and stormed off, his coat billowing behind him. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, fading into the distance like a distant thunderstorm. Alone with Sam now, you turned to face him, taking in the subtle downturn of his shoulders and the crease of worry etched into his brow.

"I apologize about him. He doesn't trust people very much anymore..." Sam's voice was apologetic and worried, "He'll eventually get over it. Just, ah, please don't tell anyone about us?"

You sighed in annoyance, still confused about all this, "Tell anyone what?? I still have no idea what or who you guys are!"

It was Sam's turn to seem confused.

"You... you don't? I assumed you had returned because you figured it out..." Sam trailed off, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed, his brows knitting together in a perplexed expression.

"Oh. Well... hmm..." Sam's voice trailed off, suddenly less sure sounding than before.

"Well?" you prompted.

Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of whatever knowledge he carried. He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I, um... my brothers and I... we're not human. Not anymore, at least..." Sam's voice wavered, the confession weighing down his every syllable.

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but all you found was raw vulnerability.

"You're... not human?" The words felt foreign on your tongue, a question you'd never thought you'd say.

Sam nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "We're something else now. Something different..." His features were drawn with worry, his eyes pleading for understanding, "I know this is a lot to take in, but please... we mean no harm. We're just trying to survive, to exist in a world that isn't made for us."

Not human.

The words echoed in your thoughts as questions fought for attention in your mind, demanding answers that seemed to slip through your grasp like water through a sieve. Not human. Then what was he?

You could touch them, so probably not ghosts; they weren't rotting in front of you, so not zombies, a voice in your mind reasoned, trying to make sense of the impossible truth standing before you.

You looked at Sam, truly looked at him, and actually took in his features. His smooth, perfect skin that accentuated the sharp angles of his face, his amber eyes that leaned a little more red than brown, and his too-sharp teeth, elongated and pointed, glistening slightly under the light filtering through the dusty windows.

Oh.

It all made sense.

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place with a resounding click, and suddenly, the world around you seemed to shift. Sam stood before you, a creature of the night, a being that belonged to the shadows.

"You... You're a vampire??" You ask in a hushed tone, a part of you still not believing it.

Sam nodded slowly, his features softened by a hint of sadness, "Yes, I am. And so are my brothers. We... we never wanted this life, but it chose us nonetheless." His voice was a whisper, full of longing for a world long gone.

"Do you... feed on people?" You ask, stepping back.

"No! None of us do. We can stay satiated enough with the wildlife in the surrounding forest," Sam assured you, taking a step to keep the same distance between you both, "Trust me, I don't like it either. I didnt like eating animals even before becoming this. But I can assure you that none of us will hurt you."

You cast a glance to the doorway where Jake had just stormed off, "What about him?"

"Jake's just highly overprotective of us. Most people tend to run screaming when they discover they're standing in a house full of vampires."

You stayed still for a moment, considering your options. You could run away like others apparently had, and try to forget this place and it's otherworldly inhabitants. But there was something in Sam's demeanor, a certain earnestness in his voice, that made you want to stay.

"You promise none of you will hurt me?" You ask, watching as Sam's face perks up at your words.

"I promise. I swear on my eternal life," Sam grinned, placing a hand over his heart. His teeth glinted in the light, but strangely, you weren't scared of him.

"Alright then. I'll trust you... Sam, was it?" You say, relaxing slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I never introduced myself, did I? My name is Samuel Francis Kiszka, and it's a pleasure to meet you, darling," Sam bowed dramatically, peeking up at you after a moment with another grin, "But you may call me Sam."

You told Sam your own name, chuckling when he decided to keep referring to you as "darling" instead.

"Now, I'd love to give you the grand tour, if you'd like?"

You, of course, agreed.

As Sam led you through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, you couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the place. You followed Sam's tall figure, his movements graceful yet purposeful, as he showed you around the rooms you had only briefly passed through before.

The ballroom, with its ornate chandeliers and marble floors, stood as a reminder a bygone era. Sam spoke of the nights when music and laughter filled the room, when guests twirled in elegant gowns and tailored suits. His voice echoed in the vast space, recounting tales of extravagant parties and lavish gatherings that once graced the halls.

Next, he guided you to the kitchen, where the scent of spices and herbs still lingered in the air, even under all the dust. The massive hearth, now cold and dark, had once been the heart of the bustling room. Sam pointed out the intricately carved cabinets and shelves, explaining how the pantry used to aways be stocked with supplies from the nearby village, ensuring that those living in the manor at that time never went hungry.

Moving on, you entered the dining room, its long table still set with fine china and silverware. The high-backed chairs stood empty, a stark reminder of the absence of guests. Sam's voice softened as he described the family meals shared around the table, the laughter and arguments that had once filled the room now reduced to nothing but memories in his mind.

The last major room you were shown on the lower floor was the main sitting room. Though also covered in a layer of dust and it's windows cracked and curtains torn, it still seemed grand. The large couches were made of fine velvet and leather, clearly expensive in their time and still worth a hefty sum today. The large fireplace, all of its bricks imported from Europe according to Sam, used go heat nearly the whole house.

"Though, we don't really have a need to keep cool or warm anymore. In fact, we seem to run colder than ever before," Sam explained, "We can feel warmth but it doesn't do much, Sam continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. As he spoke, you noticed a flicker of something in his eyes, a distant longing for sensations that he could no longer fully experience.

The warmth of a crackling fire, the gentle touch of sunlight on his skin – all of no use to him in the eternity of his existence. Maybe all the romance novels had made you forget how lonely the life of an immortal must be.

"But enough about me," Sam turned to head out of the sitting room, gesturing to the large staircase, "I think you should formally meet my brothers."

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CHAPTER 2:

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Photo by @no-other-mashter

Sanguine Osculum Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction. CHAPTE

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

Tiny Danny aka "The Accidental Snitch"

Edward Munson my beloved

(What sharp teeth he has...)

A bunch of my GVF art

Me and Pete in the wake of Saturday~