FUTURE REPLACEMENT 𐙚 carlos sainz
౨ৎ carlos sainz x singlemum!reader
the one where reader is a single mum who’s son got into karting when she catches carlos his attention on instagram after her son says he wants to be just like carlos sainz when he grows up
taglist if you'd like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post
warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment хохо
main masterlist 𐙚 carlos masterlist
౨ৎ yourinstagram madrid, spain
liked by yourbestfriend and 527 others
yourinstagram karting on saturdays, watching f1 on sundays is the way we go 🏎️
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username wish that was my life
yourbestfriend little matteo next f1 world champion
yourinstagram stop he’s still my little boy, already missing his first ever karting days 😣
yourbestfriend his little giggles when he saw his first ever kart, oh my heart
username best mum award goes to you
username our future world champion 🗣️‼️
username you look so amazing omg
౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories
viewed by yourbestfriend, username and 621 others
replies to your story
yourbestfriend the sunglasses, pls this kid 😅
yourinstagram said the sun was too bright haha
yourbestfriend sassy king
౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories
view by yourbestfriend, username and 737 others
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yourfriend and how happy was he after that race?
yourinstagram he was jumping around the living room the entire race, even yelled at the tv when carlos needed to box haha
yourfriend how cute, was watching for a bit and noticed carlos in front and was immediately thinking about how happy matteo would be
yourinstagram was even happier this race than singapore😅 probably missed him a lot last race back when he was praying for just a little glimpse of carlos
yourfriend could imagine that, he deserved this race!
౨ৎ yourinstagram madrid, spain
liked by carlossainz55 and 701 others
yourinstagram Matteo wanted a new red kart because he said he wanted to be like Carlos Sainz when he grows up 🥹🩷
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username aw my heart, that’s the cutest thing i’ve read! Carlos will have some competition!!
username omg carlossainz55 you need to see this 😍
yourbestfriend our future carlos sainz, ferrari hold open that spot for when little matteo is older ❤️
yourinstagram our future ferrari driver
username carlossainz55 SEE THIS
username omg carlos liked this post!!
username holy shit carlos in the likes
carlossainz55 my future replacement in the making?
yourinstagram wish you could hear matteo screaming right now
username carlos !!!!
౨ৎ f1wagscontent twitter
౨ৎ instagram DM carlossainz55/yourinstagram
౨ৎ carlossainz55 albert park circuit, melbourne
liked by landonorris and 1.979.792 others
carlossainz55 P1!! What a rollercoaster🎢!! Let’s keep it up in Japan!
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username drove like a man with no job and no appendix!!
yourinstagram matteo was full on crying and cheering! amazing race 🫶🏼
liked by carlossainz55
username came back from surgery and had to remind everyone what kind of driver he actually is
username BRAVO CARLOS 👏
landonorris gonna go get my appendix removed
liked by carlossainz55
౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories
view by yourbestfriend, carlossainz55 and 2.118 others
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yourbestfriend so happy for Matteo! send me loads of photos
yourinstagram will do for sure!!!! 🤍
carlossainz55 can’t wait to meet Matteo, hope to catch you two later today! enjoy the race
yourinstagram thank you so much, I’ve never seen him happier.
carlossainz55 preparing him for the future ;)
౨ৎ cxrlxndo twitter
౨ৎ yourinstagram suzuka international circuit
liked by carlossainz55 and 5.783 others
yourinstagram Matteo met his idol today, we had the best experience ever. Congratulations on your P3 carlossainz55 and thank you so much for inviting us and making Matteo the happiest boy on the planet.
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username so adorable omg
yourbestfriend his dream came true, so happy for him!!!
yourinstagram just sent you bunch of photos and videos!!🥹🤍
username this is the best thing i’ve ever seen
username matteo’s taking Carlos’ seat next year
carlossainz55 so amazing to meet you both, thank you for coming ❤️
yourinstagram i think we’re suppose to thank you here!
username omggg!!!!
username why do i kinda ship?
username matteo’s the luckiest kid ever
username scuderiaferrari hire this kid
౨ৎ messages lando/carlos
౨ৎ messages carlos/yourname
౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories
view by yourbestfriend, landonorris and 3.878 others
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username omg a date with carlos?
yourbestfriend matteo says goodnight, and to say hi to carlos😅
yourinstagram ah i already miss him so much, tell him Carlos says hi back!!
yourbestfriend putting him in bed rn, enjoy the rest of your evening babe! 🤍
username the view looks so good
username that’s looks amazing wow
౨ৎ f1wagscontent twitter
౨ৎ yourinstagram no location
liked by carlossainz55 and 19.793 others
yourinstagram when i was first met with the fact i’d be a single mum i was scared and not ready for it, I thought I’d be the worst mum ever but then Matteo came into the world and he became the light of my life. I set an entire part of my life aside for him, and I’ve never regretted that decision for a second. I never expected to love someone new again after everything that happened, I wanted to raise my son alone. Never thought I’d fall in love again, and you made it possible for me to do that on my own time. thank you for loving Matteo and me the way you do.
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username never expected i’d cry bcs of a hard launch.
yourbestfriend matteo is so lucky to have you, remember that!! he’s definitely so thankful for everything you did for him
yourinstagram iloveyou, thank you for being his second mum whenever needed🤍
yourbestfriend always will be here for both of you!
username the first picture omg🥹
username goodbye i can’t do this today
carlossainz55 oh honey, you’re making me tear up here. So thankful for you and Matteo, love you both! will be your biggest supporter through everything, Matteo is lucky with a mum like you❤️
yourinstagram we love you loads! 🫶🏼
username matteo will be ferrari’s next world champion‼️
scuderiaferrari holding open that seat for 2037!
username please do! matteo yln you will be world champion in 2037
౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories
view by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 22.683 others
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username GOOD LUCKKK
username our world champion!
charles_leclerc good luck to matteo❤️
yourinstagram he says thank you!!
yourbestfriend can’t wait to see my little man win!🏎️🤍‼️
yourinstagram carlos is already fixing the kart for the 6th time😭
yourbestfriend of course he is, no suprise there
yourinstagram it’s adorable to see how stressed he is, matteo is reassuring him.. think it’s supposed to be the other way around haahah
౨ৎ f1wagscontent twitter
taglist - @louvrepool @italyrryx @buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @lightdragonrayne @namgification @aquangxl @sammyam @americanbluebirdrb @poppyflower-22 @c-losur3 @nxrrislando @haikyuen @evie-119 @raevyng @urfavsgf
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getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙
this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3
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kiss me | ln4
you’re sure you’re seeing things.
you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.
a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.
“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.
the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.
“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.
“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”
he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.
“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.
you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”
“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.
“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”
“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”
“so you just buy me a car?!”
he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”
“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.
“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.
“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.
“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”
“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.
“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”
you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”
“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.
“go away. i’m mad at you.”
“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.
you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.
“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.
“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.
“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.
“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.
“no thanks.”
“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.
you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.
“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.
“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.
“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”
“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.
“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?
he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”
you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.
“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”
“what do you love more, me or the car?”
“the car, obviously.”
he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.
“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”
“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.
damn him.
word count: 860
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo
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LOUD.
a Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan AU
Introspection fucking sucks, according to Commander Fox.
The thing about him is, he’s been made out to be a bastard and ever since their batch found their calling or whatever he’s embraced that role.
Every batch needed someone who didn’t secretly want to be cuddled, who pushed others away so he could keep track of the big picture.
Cody had competed for the role for a while. As did Wolffe.
For Cody, his heart, big and fragile once you got to know him, got in the way in the end. He sees the whole picture, craves it so he won’t go crazy from the losses. But he believes in people and their goodness.
Fox doesn’t.
Wolffe made the mistake of getting the galaxy’s best General. General Koon shits rainbows and glitter, from what Fox has been forced to listen to.
Fox has… the Chancellor.
He takes a swig of water and wishes it were something stronger. But Quin is on the other side of Fox’s desk, reading glasses ever so slowly slipping down his nose while he’s crunching and tracking the numbers to prove the Chancellor is, indeed, siphoning credits off the Republic to giftwrap them for the Seppies.
He takes another swig.
Wouldn’t surprise him if Palpatine turned out to be the villain of the whole story.
Brought Fox to drink with the kind attitude, the cruelty so expertly hidden from first glance, cushioned in false promises and support.
Hadn’t been pretty. But it had been easy. You go to the right places, people are only too willing to shell out for some drinks. Entertainment and morbid curiosity what brings a clone to their knees.
Some found the lisp he has because of the scar that ransacks through his lips and tongue endearing but most hadn’t bothered with wanting him talking.
Some wanted to inspect the changes in the Corrie armor up close and cozy.
If shit hadn’t already multiplied, Organa came flouncing into the Guard offices every two weeks with a new design like they were his little dress-up dolls.
The last design, the one that stayed, had a dummy connector installed in the backplate.
Fox hadn’t mentioned it. Had stewed over how the Guard, already isolated from the rest of the GAR, wasn’t even considered for the neural network that would make them more efficient, more deadly if activated. Treated like scum on a pedestal, overlooked and taken for granted.
Fox takes every advantage he can squeeze from that.
Every batch needs a willing loner who’s got the big picture in his head at all times and doesn’t care for the minutiae.
Fox had been comfortable in that role, really. He saw Thorn and Stone and Thire and the rest of them making friends and lovers and heartbreak, and that was the last fucking thing Fox wanted.
And then came Vos. Appearing from the shadows like a designer nightmare.
For such a short time they’ve sure gone through a lot together.
To the point Vos became Quinlan became Quin became Vos again became someone Fox clung to while fighting fucking addiction and the realization that he is stupid enough to become addicted.
No matter what Quin had said, Fox was supposed to be the pinnacle of cloning and artificially creating the perfect soldier. Addiction is a weakness and fault.
Fox almost did something extremely stupid over that one.
Turns out it’s all part of the sentient experience.
Fucking sucks.
Quin had laughed at that, ugly and bruised laughter, continuing to comb his fingers over Fox’s head. “Tell me about it.”
An eloquent way to say Quin was going through withdrawal himself.
They got outside help after that.
“Hey, Depa,” Quin murmurs absently after answering his comm, pushes his glasses up.
“Quinlan, is your line still secure?”
“‘Course. Especially after Fox got his grubby little hands all over it.”
Fox shows him the middle finger of one of his grubby little hands.
“Good,” General Billaba clips out. Quin straightens up, and maybe Fox’s attention isn’t misplaced here. “Good. Commander Cody was activated by the Sith Lord and he’s bringing Obi-Wan to Coruscant.”
Activated.
Quin is silent. Blinks up at the ceiling. “Can you run that by me again?”
“Quinlan, we have reason to be believe the Chancellor is the Sith Lord.”
Hah. Fox got that one right on his bingo card, at least.
Cody got activated.
As they’ve learned, the neural network - battlefield mediation, in fancy Kamino speak - is activated by a designated Force using GAR personnel. Surprisingly, the status is even an optional display on the screens of every trooper’s vambrace. Or not so surprisingly.
Cody got activated by the Chancellor. Who is the Sith Lord the Order has been hunting.
Fox will deal with that later or never, whatever comes first.
He’s comming the Guard all across the planet, checking the weapons on his person, while General Billaba explains the situation. He appreciates her succinct manner, he’s gotta say.
“I’m on the way to detain Anakin. Mace is following the ship Commander Cody captured but we need someone to intercept them on Coruscant before he reaches Palpatine.” She halts for a brief moment. “Obi-Wan seems to believe the Commander has betrayed him when he knows about the neural link inside the clones. We are fearing the Darkness is deliberately attacking and clouding his senses.”
“I’m on my way,” Quin nods, adds with a calculating glance at Fox, “I’m not sure I have back-up.”
“Funny thing about the Alderaan design of the guard armor,” Fox comments, checking the plasma charge on his DC, and vows to give Senator fucking Organa a sliced fruit platter, “the Guard doesn’t have the connector to the neural link.”
He comms their resident medic next and orders every gundark-level tranquilizer delivered to him.
Cody got activated and is following the orders of a Sith Lord.
Stars help them.
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The One Where Adam Steals Lucifer's Babe
Word Count: 4.9K
A/N: I had an idea about this, but I wanted to get it out. This was supposed to be headcanons, but it turned into a story!! woo(•_•)
This is also not done. Like I wanted it to be be headcanons so bad, but i need to establish a plot line because im like dumb. um, so yeah. if this does become anything more, i think max three chapter
Its written as if Adam is a sinner so yeah!!
-
Dating the King of Hell should be easy- nothing short of bliss and love. And it is easy being with the King of Hell, when he has to make appearances, and he has to put up a front. But being with Lucifer is much more difficult. You know he’s not over Lilith, and you aren’t even close to being a replacement for her. And yet, he keeps you around. You can trick yourself that he still wants you, that maybe he does enjoy being with you. But lying to yourself doesn't make anything easier. You walk out of the castle without a word to Lucifer, childishly hoping that he’d figure out that you weren’t there on his own. On your stroll to nowhere in particular, you check your phone constantly, hoping to see a missed message or call from him- some type of form that he still takes notice of you. You have to silence your phone when you feel tears prick your eyes at the empty screen.
You wind up in some sleazy bar, a bit too tipsy, and far too melancholic to do anything more than swirl a glass of alcohol with melting ice. You watch the condensation drip down the side of the glass, creating a ring over the coaster. Beside you, the chair scrapes, and your spirits are lifted. It’s Lucifer! He’s chased you down and now he’s going to apologize and proclaim his- your shoulders fall when you realize that it’s not Lucifer. The realization leaves you cold and far lonelier than you initially were. Instead, it’s Adam- the First Man. You wonder for a brief moment if he even still calls himself that.
“Mind your fuckin’ business,” he sneers, sitting beside you. He lifts his hand, and the bartender pushes a glass and a bottle towards him, muttering something about a tab under his breath before turning his attention elsewhere.
You heard he had become a Sinner- the very thing he sought to kill for entertainment not that long ago. However, you had yet to see him since he was stabbed by Niffty. You wonder if his new form has a hole in his back now.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he tells you, malice tinged at his words, but he makes no real motion to actively wave you off. You’re sure he would have if he was still divine.
A closer inspection reveals that he’s in far worse shape than you could have imagined. A beard that’s in the awkward phase of growing out, deep bags under his eyes, and gaunt cheeks. Hell has not been kind to him. But, what else could you have expected? He was an exorcist- the exorcist- and now, he’s stuck in Hell. Honestly, you should be surprised that his head isn’t mounted somewhere.
You turn back to your drink, and wipe a line of condensation off. “I’m surprised you’d even show your face around these parts,” you mumble, taking a swig of your drink. It burns going down, and you try to hide your displeased expression.
“Fuck you,” he hisses out, taking a long drink from the bottle.
“You know, as a former exorcist, I’d suggest being nice to demons around these parts.” You raise your hand at the bartender, and he walks over, and places the tab in front of you. “You never know who you’re gonna piss off next.” You leave a hefty amount, enough to cover your drinks and leave a pretty tip.
“What? You’re gonna sick Lucifer on me?” You turn to him, embarrassment hot on your cheeks, and he wears a crooked smile. “Your face and his are plastered everywhere I look.”
With a sigh, you push the check away from you. “Must suck for you,” you mumble. His response is to take a drink from the bottle. “I hated having my picture taken before,” you tell him, unsure if he’s even listening or not. “I felt that they never really got my good side.”
“I’d get photographed all the time in Heaven,” he says in a low tone after a moment of silence. “Bitches could never get enough of me.” You scrunch your nose at the word, and fold the straw wrapper into squares. “Fucking loved it.”
“Wish I loved the camera.” You cross your ankles together, tucking them under the seat of the stool. “I hated being looked at.”
There's a pause in the conversation, long enough that you believe the small talk has ended. You could go back to the castle but if Lucifer hadn't taken notice of your absence, you'd surely have a breakdown. Maybe you could go to the hotel. Charlie would understand. “You still get your picture taken?” Adam asks, his voice startling you.
You tilt your head to the side, underneath the seat, your legs twist around themselves. “Not as often as I used to. I think it was more like uh-” you wave your hand around and the folded wrapper unfurls itself- “shock value? I think. Like the King of Hell downgrading to some resident.” You smile bitterly. “Not even a Goetia or anything.”
“A Goetia?”
“These magical birds.” You look at him. “You’ve been in Hell for a bit, haven’t you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard or seen them.”
“I don’t get out a lot.”
“‘Cause you’re hated?” You ask, a wicked tone laced in your words. Adam responds by mocking your voice with the same question. You scoff with a smile on your face. “I wonder why, if you’re such a peach.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
It’s silent. And you watch as the bartender grabs your drink, leaving the coaster behind. A memory of drinking with Lucifer pops into your head- his honeyed smile as he pours you a glass of wine that you would have never been able to afford, to even be aware of such a delicacy that existed in Hell. Never would he have taken you to some dingy bar where less than savory individuals reside.
You’ve been taken care of. Pampered and adored for a considerable amount of time, before all the light had dimmed. You should have never allowed yourself to get used to such treasures. You glance over at Adam, and wonder if he can understand. “Do you come here often?” You ask him, crossing your arms over the bar. He chokes on his drink and slams the bottle down. He gives you a bewildered stare and you raise your shoulders defensively. “What? I’m just asking,” you say. “The bartender looks like he knows you.” You catch the bartender’s eyes and he quickly looks away. “Or at least enough to keep a tab open.”
“There’s not much to do around here,” he answers.
You fill your cheeks with air and let it slowly blow out through pursed lips. There's plenty to do- sort of. Minus the drugs and sex, most of Hell's greatest features are stuck in other rings. “There’s the Cannibal Sector,” you offer. “You gotta be careful but Rosie is nice and she sells pretty things. I have this hairpin in the shape of a human hand.” Adam gives you a look. “It might be a real hand, huh.”
“The fuck are you even doing out of your castle.”
You deflate. “Rough night,” you say with a sigh. “What about you?”
“Rough night,” he answers
You nod in solidarity. “I’m not usually a drinker,” you confess. “The taste is a bit too bitter for my liking. But being at the castle just wasn’t-” it’s not for you, the pampered life, acting as a placeholder, the King- “I didn’t want to be there.”
When Adam fails to say anything else, you feel embarrassed to even say something like that to the former angel beside you. He wouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care. Why would he ever worry himself over the likes of you, when your supposed partner couldn’t. He sniffs, and places the bottle down. It’s nearly empty.
“Where do you want to be then?” His eyes are still golden, unblinking as he stares.
Gold meets your own eyes, and you flicker to the horns over his head, curling overhead much like his former exorcist mask. You look back at his eyes, at the way he holds the bottle loosely. “I don’t know,” you confess.
There’s a moment of silence, and he finishes the last bit of alcohol. You wonder how many he usually drinks before he goes back home. “You wanna come over?” He asks, and there’s a shade darker that brushes against his cheeks, and he tries to ask nonchalantly, but he toys with the words, and he swallows too harshly for him to not be worried about your answer. As if he’s asking some forbidden question. But, you’re lonely, and you don’t want to be alone in a bar longer than you already have been.
You look at the exit, half-hoping that Lucifer would be there, ready to take you to his home, and a part of you is glad that he isn’t there. You look back at Adam, and nod your head. “Lead the way,” you tell him.
The sound of the bartender yelling behind you about a tab, has you smiling, feeling as if you’re dining and dashing despite you having paid for your portion. Adam doesn’t seem to care, walking without breaking a stride, just waving his hand without looking back.
It doesn’t take long before you’re climbing up steps that need to be looked at, rust falling off with each bounce. You’re sure that you can hear something unsavory going on in a room, but a whistle from Adam has you scurrying along. There’s no reason that you should know anything more than you already do.
You enter his apartment, and take a careful look around. It’s messy- clothes strewn across, dishes left out, and you feel pity for him. A single couch is close enough to the rather small television, a coffee table that has paint chipping and dents is one of the few pieces of furniture in the rooms. A sliding door is closed, a few broken blinds giving you just a glimpse into the outside. “You certainly,” you pause, trying to find something nice to say, “have a place,” you end defeatedly. You stand near the door, clicking the lock into place, as if that would protect you from any dangers out in the world. Perhaps you should be worried about Adam, about the angel who would bear his fangs and be drenched in blood, too excited about senseless murder. But you catch him kicking things under the couch, trying to spruce up the place even if just by a smidge.
“Fuck you,” he says without conviction. He grabs at a pile of clothes and tosses it on top of a chair, leaving the couch clear for you and him to sit. Smiling softly, you take a seat. He places himself close to the arm rest, and watches as you look around. “I uh, I clean- sometimes.” He sounds unsure of himself.
“I like cleaning,” you tell him, grabbing at a magazine on the worn out coffee table. It’s some tabloid, and you see a snippet of you and Lucifer in the corner. You turn to the page where you two are supposed to be. It’s titled as “Issues at Home?” You frown, and turn to another page. “I like organizing and stuff. Um, it helps uh, Lucifer. He does a lot of projects.”
“You don’t got any?”
“I have hobbies, but they come and go.” Your eyes skim the page, talking about Velvette’s new clothing line. You pull your lips into a thin line, a part of you wants to wear her outfits, but you aren’t sure you could pull them off. “It’s all just-” you flutter a hand in the air- “you know, stuff.” You place the magazine back on the table. “What about you?”
He smiles and leans back on the couch, the cushion creasing under his weight. “I like to play the guitar.” You perk at the mention, and watch as he rests his hands over his stomach. “I was in a band. Played the guitar, got all the chicks that I wanted.”
“Were you good at the guitar?”
He nods his head. “Oh, you should’ve fucking seen me. I was like a fucking god on stage.” He holds his hands out and mimics a guitar. You huff out a laugh, and watch as he lets his hands fall. “I got to fuck whoever I wanted. And I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck me? Look at me.” he tosses you a lazy look, matched with a sly smile, and you can see how people would be attracted to him. “I was the first dick– of course, everyone wanted me.”
“What songs would you perform?”
“Rock mostly.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Crowd went wild.”
“You’d perform in heaven?”
He shrugs. “Most of the time. If I felt bold, sometimes the band and I would do a show on Earth. I’m telling you humans would just throw themselves at you, begging to be fucked in some grimy ass restroom.”
You scrunch your nose. “Sounds gross.”
“It was,” he says with a faltering smile. He cocks his head to the side, and there’s a softness to his words. “Gross as shit, but the girls were hot.”
You cross your ankles together, and turn to face him. Your arm cushions itself between the couch and your head to watch him. “Do you not play anymore?” you ask hesitantly,
He sucks on his bottom lip, teething at the skin, before letting it go. “I haven’t tried to summon my harp- guitar- shit, thing, since I’ve been here.” He closes his hands into a loose fist and kicks his legs up on the beaten coffee table. “There’s this pawn shop a few streets down, and they have this guitar for sale.”
“Are you thinking about buying it?”
“I have other shit to worry about.” He gives you a look, a fleeting sense of exhaustion and acceptance that washes over him, that makes him feel a bit more real, a bit more like you. “It isn’t even that good.” He sounds like a child, trying to justify something to themselves. “It’s beat up, and the strings are probably worn-” he shakes his head- “it's not worth it.” You open your mouth to reassure him that it probably is worth it. That despite the condition that it’s in and the price for it, if he wants it, it's worth it. Even if he could never play it, even if it’ll never be restored to its original beauty, it would be his. You only manage to suck in a gulp of air, when a knocking at the balcony door grabs your attention. “Some fucking bird that keeps bothering me.” He looks over at you, and glances back to the door, and back at you. “I have a balcony. Wanna sit outside?”
You nod quickly, closing your mouth. “Yeah.”
He walks past the door, and leaves it open for you. Just like when you entered, you close the door behind you, half-heartedly hoping that it won’t lock behind you. His balcony holds two chairs- both different kinds and both equally as rough looking. A part of you wonders where exactly he got this furniture. There’s a dying plant shoved in the corner, the leaves brown and stem wilting under the weight of the dying leaves.
“Quit judging,” he snips.
You scoff, a smile teasing at the corner of your lips. The air of Hell is cool, wind breezing over your skin and you stare down into the streets, watching as Imps and Sinners live their lives, peacefully uninterrupted. Sitting down, your breath hitches when the chair dips under your weight. It’s quiet between the two of you, silence in each other’s company where you both just stare at the world in front of you.
You can see the holy light from the embassy, and you can see Heaven’s light- the rings that are protected by wings. It lights up the night sky far better than the pentagram ever has, and sitting under the light of it, makes you wonder if anything is different in Heaven since Adam’s death- or rather, reincarnation. “Do you miss Heaven?” You ask, before you can register the weight of the words that it holds. You turn to him, almost scared of any answer that he would give.
“That’s a stupid question,” he spits out. You don’t respond, and you stay looking at him. He turns his head to avoid your gaze, his legs stretching out in front of him. After a beat of silence, he looks ahead of him. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I do.”
“What do you miss about it?”
“Full of fucking questions, aren’t ya?” He stays silent, and after a moment, he lets out a soft sigh. “Everything.”
“There’s not many stories about Heaven down here. You know, minus the ones that we all know. The golden gates-”
“Pearly gates,” he corrects. You look at him, and he has his eyes casted down. “They’re pearly.”
“The pearly gates,” you correct, “the clouds, the happiness and peace. I just- Other than that, there’s nothing else to go off of. But I guess, why would I know. Heaven seems so far away, like some mythical place.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t talk about it?” Adam asks with a sneer.
“No,” you answer without hesitation. “He doesn’t like talking about Heaven. Sometimes-” you lick your lips- “Sometimes it feels like he hates everything and everyone down here. Like he can’t stand the idea that he’s stuck here.” You scratch your neck, and pinch your legs together. “It’s like the memories of Heaven are too painful.”
“That magazine said y’all were breaking up.”
“Maybe,” you answer.
“You can talk about it if you want. Would make this night a helluva lot more interesting.” You look at him. “I’m all ears.”
“And horns,” you tease.
“Fuck you,” he says with an impish tone.
You smile, and kick out your legs. Your phone buzzes, and with hope, you believe that it’ll be Lucifer. Your heart sinks when it’s only a notification from Sinstagram. With a frown, you silence your phone. “In the beginning, it was easy to forget that he was married. I mean, I always knew. He has her portraits hanging, and he talks about Charlie constantly.” You smile bitterly and scratch at your phone case. “I don’t blame him for that, but-” you shrug- “it hurts knowing that he still clings to her.” When Adam stays silent, you continue. “He can be kind- real attentive and sweet. But sometimes, when he’s had a uh-” you struggle to find a word- “a bad day, he gets real low. And I hate to admit it, but he gets clingy and it’s nice to know that I can still serve him in some way.” Your fingers pinch at the bridge of your nose, and you let your hand cover your mouth. “But then, there are moments, where it feels like he’s actually looking at me- where he’s just everything,” you say wistfully, your hand stretching out in front of you, clasping around the night air. You glance at Adam, who watches your hand as you pull it back to yourself. “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t mean to ramble.”
“So why’d you leave then?”
Perhaps you’d get a biased opinion- you’re aware of how Adam feels over Lucifer, and practically every other inhabitant of Hell. He thinks of himself above any other, his own pride being the very thing that made him unaware of Niffty running towards him. You chew on your lip, your hand scratching over your neck. You need to speak to someone. No one else at the hotel will ever give you a straight answer- or at least the answer that you want to hear.
With a sigh, you kick your legs out in front of you. “I like Lucifer.” You can feel his eyes on you. “But, sometimes,” you drag the word, and your body feels hot, “it’s like he’s not present in the relationship. He gives a lot, but he hardly ever asks for anything.”
There’s a pause. “What could you even give him?” he asks in sincerity.
There’s a pang in your chest, wrapping tightly, threatening to crush your bones, and leaving you a battered and broken mess on Adam’s balcony. You can’t give him anything that he doesn’t want. He has his daughter, he had his wife, he has his title for better or for worse. All you can offer is a moment of content, and even then it seems that you can no longer do that.
You shrug your shoulders at an attempt of a weak answer. “I know that he’s still not over his wife. Or ex-wife. I'm not too sure of the title and I hate to ask. He gets all mopey and deflective.” You kick at the ground, and insecurity hugs you tightly, and drips into your words. “He stares at portraits of her, and well, it’s hard to compete with the literal Queen of Hell, when I’m just-” your jaw stiffens, and you look at the ground through blurring eyes- “me.” You stand in her shadow without even having met her. “Even when I dress up, I feel like a child playing pretend. I don’t- I’m not like her.” You’ve stared at her portraits that still hang in the palace, and they consume you. Her smile, her delicate hands, and the elegance that is so evident in portraits. It feels childish to compare yourself to someone so regal and poised.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “My ex was pretty hot.” Your eyes widen, and you turn to him. “They both were.” He lets out a sigh, and keeps his eyes fixed in front of him.
“Adam,” you squeak out. “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, blood rushing to your face, making your body uncomfortably warm. “I hadn’t meant- I didn’t mean to talk about her with you. I’m so sorry.”
“The fuck are you apologizing for?” He asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisting to an ugly sneer.
You cross your arms over your chest, bringing them to an ‘X’ where your hands curve over your biceps. “It’s just that I’m talking about Lucifer and your ex-wife.” You frown when he gives you an ugly look. “I just- I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He gives a shrug of his shoulders, his gaze still focused elsewhere. “Lucifer already talked shit about how he banged both of them. It's whatever.”
Your brows furrow, and you watch as Adam pats his pockets, fisting a hand into one of his pants pockets. He fishes out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing on and sticking the tan end of it into his mouth. He motions the carton at you, and you pull your mouth into a thin line.
“If you're gonna bitch about smoking, you're one lame sinner.”
“Eve? He slept with Eve, too?”
“Oh shit.” The cigarette hangs between his teeth, until pulls it back into his mouth. “You didn't know.” He almost sounds apologetic. He grabs at a lighter and it takes a few clicks to light the white of the stick.
“He doesn't really talk about his sex life before me.” You slump further into yourself, your nails scratching over your skin. “It's in the past. I know I shouldn't be hurt over what he's chosen to share with me, but-” you toss your head back, and in the red sky, the stars are dim. “I don’t know. It just feels like another kick on a shitty night, ya know?”
“I’m shitty?” He almost sounds offended.
“No, no” you shake your head. “If anything, you’re like the one good thing out of this night.”
“Yeah, well, you ain’t so bad yourself.” You turn to him, your head cocked to the side. “You got a nice body. If you weren’t stuck here, I would’ve bagged you already.” You stretch your lips thin, and Adam shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke. “You’re easy on the eyes.”
“Thanks Adam,” you say hesitantly. He holds out the cigarette towards you and you wave your hand. “I’m good.”
“So what now? You gonna go back to him?”
“I don’t even think he knows that I’m gone,” you say honestly. The confession makes you feel lighter than you thought it would. “It’s comfortable with him. It’s easy- I don’t have to worry about things, but, I also don’t have to worry about anything. And sometimes, I want to worry. I want him and I to argue about dumb shit, and I want to worry if he’s coming to bed or not, and not being resigned to the fact that I know he won’t.”
The silence is broken by the scraping of the chair, and you watch as he rises, stretching his arms above him, the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Eve tolerated me,” he says quietly, letting out a breath of smoke. You look at him, biting at the inside of your cheeks. “She loved me for a while. She was devoted to me. But I uh- I’m pretty sure that was because she was made from me.” A hand cups over his side. “Blind loyalty or whatever. But when she bit that apple, whatever she felt for me was gone.” He speaks quietly, and slowly, as if the words and the thoughts of it were slowly piecing themselves together, a puzzle that he had long put away in order for it to never make sense. “She didn’t care what I did as long as I left her and the-'' someone below lets out a scream, and Adam turns to you, his face flashing a moment of vulnerability before he looks away and puts out the cigarette under his boot. “Well, Eve was Eve.” His brows soften, and he looks tired. “I didn’t tolerate her.”
“Meaning?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “I did love her. She had a part of me after all.” He looks over at you, and his hand tightens over his side, pulling at the fabric. “But that’s not important anymore.” He turns away, and walks back inside. You scurry after him, making sure to lock the balcony door behind you.
You stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do next. Truth be told, you had planned to spend the night in some dingy motel if Adam hadn’t sat beside you. But now you’re here, in his dingy apartment, truths and insecurities laid out for the two of you to bear witness. A part of you wants to bid him goodnight, and maybe when you’d see him out in the streets, you’d give him a cordial nod, and remember how he listened and talked about his ex-wife, and he’d remember you in positive light, despite you only being a mess of insecurities wrapped in sin.
But now, you don’t want to leave. At least a part of you wants to continue this conversation, to keep the comfort wrapped tight around you. You tap your foot against the ground and Adam looks at you, his eyes staring at yours, unwavering from yours. You hadn’t realized just how powerful he stood beforehand.
“You can stay if you want,” he says slowly, unsure of the words that he’s saying. “Take the couch or whatever,” he attempts to sound indifferent, but you can hear the sincerity in the words, uncomfortable, but sincere. “I got a spare blanket you can use.” His teeth are sharp, and they peek out to tease at his bottom lip.
“Really?” You ask, eyes wide and you take a step forward, and he looks away. “I can?”
His mouth thins into a grimace, and he gives a forced shrug. “Do whatever you want.”
You look at the couch. It wasn’t uncomfortable to sit on, but you’re sure you’ll wake up with a sore back. However, you don’t want to go back to Lucifer, and you don’t want to go to some dingy motel where you’re sure you’ll drink until you’re sick. Looking back at Adam, you nod, a smiling teasing at the corners of your lips, and he finally looks away from you.
“Yes!” You clear your throat. “Yes,” you say in a softer tone. “I’d like that. Thank you, Adam.”
“Whatever.” He walks into his bedroom, and you sit on the couch. He returns with a blanket, and he stands at the end of the couch, looking at you. “I’m not making you breakfast or anything. You gotta figure that shit out on your own.” You nod. The only real worry that you have is that your phone’s battery is at an uncomfortable percentage that you aren’t sure is going to last you.
“I hope Hell is nice for you.” He raises his brows at you. “It’s shitty and the smell of decay is always kinda there, but sometimes, it’s nice down here.”
“Hell is supposed to suck.”
“And it does,” you say with a shrug. “But not all the time, Ads.”
“Don’t call me that.” He tosses a blanket at you- it’s thin and threads have begun to unravel at the seams, but it’s soft. “I’m turning off the lights.”
“Goodnight,” you call out, holding the blanket close to you. You can only smile when the response is a closed door.
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