#the little fan on the counter cos bartending is hard work

[marshymarge]

obsessed with the dugout, there's something really sincerely cozy about it :)

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 1

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Story Description:

❝It's like an afterglow.❞

❝Yes, like an afterglow. If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable.❞

❝A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset. But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people, are some things you can never miss.❞

But there's one little detail you had missed, that you both missed: that you've already met years earlier.

You're a 25-year old photographer and part-time bartender, and has heard countless stories about the adventures of your roommate's stepbrother, Bucky Barnes -- a clumsy, party-driven 38-year old businessman. One day, you stumble upon Bucky inside your apartment on a Saturday night that would change both of your lives forever as you both take pleasure in the afterglow.

A/N: I already have this on Wattpad but with a female OC. This is my first ever Bucky Barnes fan fic and I hope you guys like it :)

CHAPTER ONE

"Hey, y/n. I think Nick wants to ask you out on a date." Peter Parker, your roommate, brought his beer bottle towards his mouth. His eyes were fixated somewhere while you were wiping droplets of beer on the countertop. You looked at his face features illuminated by the light from his laptop. "You should really put coasters here, y'know." he added.

"Shut it, Parker," You rolled your eyes at him, "or no more free drinks for you."

"He's into you." He sang and averted his eyes somewhere. You followed his gaze which was on Nick Miller who was talking to some loud blondes on the booth, taking their orders.

"I'm not talking to you anymore." You put your hand up, blocking Peter's face and walked away. You greeted some customers approaching the bar counter. "Good evening, gentlemen, what would you like to drink?"

"Shots of tequila," one replied, "and keep 'em coming, doll!" The other three cheered which you knew annoyed Peter.

The bar was packed tonight. Saturdays were the only days New Yorkers were almost free for a chill drink hangout. College boys hang by the billiards table on the corner, office girls sip their margaritas on one of the booths, thirty-year old women shoot darts on the dartboard as if the board were their husbands, thirty-year old dads with their caps on drinking hard beer on one of the tables, kids who just turned twenty-one ordering their first drink legally, lonely people by the jukebox or on the bar counter telling their sad tales to the bartender and Peter Parker casually drinking beer with a laptop in front of him.

"You really should stop doing your work here on the bar." You approached Peter once more. "You're bumming people out."

Peter raised an eyebrow, his eyes glued on the laptop. "You're bumming me out."

"Seriously, do your business work elsewhere. Go to a coffee place or something. Starbucks isn't that far."

"You know I work better with beer"

"How can I forget?"

You and Peter go way back. You two had met in business school and had been roommates ever since. While you would pull an all-nighter in your shared apartment, Peter would struggle to open the front door, dance around in the living room like he had left feet and threw his final papers on the floor. He'd end up waking up your other roommates, Mickey and Pablo (who would usually join him by the way), leaving poor you cleaning up their mess the next morning. You'd put Peter to bed, seeing as the other morons were incapable of doing so. The next day, Peter's bed would reek of the pungent smell of beer and cigarettes. Though he didn't smoke ("and I never will!"), cigarette smoke disgustingly clung to his clothes and skin, which you found rather unpleasant. Even with all the alcohol in his system, Peter managed to pass all his exams and graduate with flying colors. You hated that.

"I don't get why you drink so much during exam week." You sighed, handing Peter a glass of water. He wasn't an alcoholic but he did turn into one right before midterms and finals start. It was somehow seasonal. According to Peter, it helped him focus. "You're not supposed to drink before a big exam, y'know."

"Hemingway drinks. He writes better when he drinks."

"You're a business major. Not a writer. You don't even read literature."

"Look at you now cleaning other people's messes." Peter chuckled, closing his laptop. You sighed and wiped the counter with much vigor. The four gentlemen from earlier left a pretty big mess toasting shots before they went towards the billiards table.

"Please, this is not the kind of bar you used to go to." You responded, making a gin and tonic. "This is a smoke-free, grope-free, friendly bar. No dancing, no loud stereo music -- just your regular bar where you can relax with your friends after a long day at work."

Peter turned around and tilted his head towards the jukebox. "There's someone dancing right now beside the jukebox."

"Not that kind of dancing." A 20-something year old man was breakdancing to some old beat you've never even heard of.

"Y'know it's really ironic you're working at a bar now. Oh, how you used to hate them."

"It's the only job I can do." You shrugged. "Besides photography, of course. And again, this is not that kind of bar. Think of it like a MacLaren's Pub from that tv show. Kind of funny how it's also just below our apartment building. If only we lived in this building in college, I would've enjoyed bars more."

You once went to one party at a crowded bar where Peter had surprisingly invited you. Writhing bodies pressed up against each other. Body shots from strangers. Toilets that reeked of beer vomit and pee. An "accidental" kiss between you and Peter in the bar that lead into a steamy makeout session as soon as you got in the apartment you both shared. Up to this day, neither of you spoke of that night and perhaps that day wouldn't come -- You really hoped it didn't. Wouldn't want to open a can of worms from the past.

"You're a boring old hag." Peter snorted.

"Hmm, I'd like to disagree. I can make drinks and you can't."

"Oh, you know who can make drinks, though? My stepbrother!"

Ah, yes. His stepbrother. The infamous Bucky Barnes. Born in the upper east side of New York and sadly, out of wedlock. Orphaned at a young age and adopted by a man named Tony Stark who then married Peter's mother. A successful hotel business owner (but not really famous), and the star of Peter's countless stories. Been arrested once for streaking. Got Peter out of detention in high school. Trespassed school premises. TP'd a house during Valentine's Day. Caught naked by a newly-wed in a hotel room. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

"I know. He makes the best bloody drinks of all time." You mimicked Peter the way he would -- insulting and proud -- which he didn't like as he shot dagger-like eyes at you. His expressions changed in a snap.

"Oh, that reminds me. He's in town!"

"I thought he was in Monaco?"

"Yeah, no. He travels a lot."

"Does that mean I now get to meet this famous stepbrother of yours?" You smirked, pulling out shot glasses from one of the cabinets.

"I'm not sure he would want to meet you. You're not exactly in his league."

"You mean snobby and rich?" You laughed while fixing the shot glasses on the counter. "I'm aware."

"I mean classy." He adjusted his tie.

You snickered. "Yeah, all those stories were real classy, Parker. Top-notch."

"You know what I mean, y/n - suits, money, stuff like that. Bucky's changed." One big sip of beer. "I think."

"Ya think?" You scoffed.

"Maybe, I don't know. Haven't spoken to him in a while. He's always traveling and stuff. Hard to keep track of him."

"Sounds to me like he's on a run from the bad guys." You joked which Peter didn't find funny.

"What do you mean?"

Peter idolized Bucky. He was the sole reason why he got into business in the first place -- no, they didn't spend late nights talking in their backyard basketball court about how fulfilling business is and all that crap like brothers would do. Peter just wanted to be like Bucky. To be in the world of money, booze, and then more money. That kind of crap. "It was a joke, Parker. This Bucky sounds like he may have done some stupid stuff but I doubt he's into something illegal or what."

"Yeah, he's a good guy." But even Peter didn't sound convinced of himself. He took a big gulp of his beer.

Nick approached the counter, avoiding your eyes but a smile landed on his lips as soon as he neared you. You could hear Peter chuckling. "Hey, Nick."

Nick acknowledged him by saying a small hello and started preparing a bunch of Bloody Marys for the blonde girls by the booth. Peter watched him, finishing his beer. You gave him a look before walking away to serve some drinks -- which he just mocked in return. With a tray of beer in your right hand, you approached the four gentlemen from before at the billiards table and gave them their drinks. Seeing a couple of girls slide out of one of the booths, you grabbed a washcloth and a bottle spray on the cleaning station and headed to clean the girls' mess. The table reeked of Gin and tonic, Margaritas, Grasshopper, a couple of beers and Long Island Iced Tea. Well, that's a weirdly wild group of friends.

While cleaning up the booth, you glanced up at the printed photographs on the walls which were yours. Black and white portraits of strangers. Flashes of red and blue lights on the streets. Giant buildings. Random people on Central Park and New York streets. Peter drinking beer at the booth with his co-workers. And the owner of the bar who was always cooped up inside his small office. Photos that didn't sell in your exhibit always went to the bar, in hopes that someone might find them somewhat good -- good enough to take home. But that wasn't the case. To them, the photos were just mere decorations at the bar; they just wanted to have a good time and couldn't be bothered to even take one shy glance at the bartender's photos. You wanted to think they just had zero taste when it comes to photography to make yourself feel better but you were wrong. It just made you feel worse.

Just when you were about to turn around, Peter slid into the booth. You almost dropped the things you were holding. "Jesus, Parker."

He looked up at the photos. "Told ya your photos won't sell here."

"That's not what I was thinking." Lie. You walked towards the bar counter with Peter on your tail. He sat once more on the high stool and immensely watched as you placed some glasses on the counter.

"Come work for our company. We could really use your skills for our products." He leaned in, trying to get your attention. It wasn't the first time he tried to convince you to go work for his company.

"For the nth time, I'm no corporate slave."

"You're working at a bar. You make drinks and serve people. Some of these fuckers have corporate jobs as well - like me! If you think about it," he crossed his arms, placing them on top of the counter, "it's kind of like serving these corporations you hate."

With a frown, you asked, "What kind of logic is that?"

"A businessman's logic."

"If that's the case, the corporate world is dead." You smirked, washing the glasses. Peter was no businessman. He was just a part of a sales team, making marketing pitch presentations every week or so. Honestly, you couldn't keep up with his presentations. "I'd be happy to join then."

"Come on, Aria. You can't be juggling two jobs for the rest of your life. You can get one big job at our company and you'll get paid big time. Plus," he leaned in further, almost getting up from the stool, "we'll be working together. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'm honestly getting tired of you." You chuckled, sprinkling some water on Peter's face. "And my answer is still no. I don't want to work for your company. I like freelancing and bartending." That wasn't a lie. Despite graduating from business school, you decided to pursue your passion in photography even if the pay couldn't cover your half of the rent. So, you decided to take a waitressing job at the bar just below your apartment, and then started bartending. Out of all the establishments you could've gone to, you chose this very bar because it was the most convenient option of all -- it was just below the apartment. Being a photographer and a part-time bartender weren't exactly the dream you had for yourself but you liked them; nothing gave you more pleasure than taking product photos for small businesses and making drinks for strangers who happen to stumble upon one of the best bars in the Upper West Side.

Peter sighed. "I'm never giving up on you. I'm not a quitter."

"Whatever you say, big guy." Peter had been at it for a few years.

"I hate you." Peter groaned.

"Aren't you the sweetest?"

Peter rolled his eyes and caught a quick glance at the wall clock. "Hey, your shift's almost over. Better hurry up."

"Right. Thanks, Parker." You began placing back the shot glasses on one of the cabinets then hurriedly walked into a small door on the back. You greeted your boss who was just doing some paperworks.

"Hey, Steve. I'm heading out."

"Right, right." Steve looked up from his laptop and removed his specs, placing them on the table.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you could even close the door, Steve called you.

"Yeah?"

"Nick's not gonna be here tomorrow afternoon and I'm gonna be in Long Island for some family reunion. Would you mind checking all the deliveries for tomorrow?"

"Well, what about the others?"

"Ah, they're no good." Steve sighed. "I only trust you and Nick."

You raised an eyebrow. "Nick? Really?" You wouldn't trust Nick with anything -- not even with some dumb, silly secret.

Steve shrugged. "He's a good kid. He and I get along. So, do I get a yes?"

"Yeah, sure. I got nothing going on tomorrow."

"No photography thingy?"

You pursed your lips. "Not unless you want me to take photos for your family reunion."

"No way in hell am I gonna let you meet my family."

"Aw, you said you trust me."

He chuckled and leaned back on his office chair. "Go home, y/n."

You sent him a smile before heading back to the counter to meet Peter who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone. "Let's go, Parker."

You two walked up the steps towards your apartment building, shoulders bumping from time to time. You and Peter lived on the fifth floor. You would've gotten your own place but your parents cut you off since you refused to work for the family supermarket your family owned in Hoboken, New Jersey. The last time you spoke to your parents was almost three years ago, when you threw a huge tantrum like a damn baby at your graduation party. "There's nothing for me here in New Jersey! It's as boring as these two old couples next door. (No offense). I hated business school. I want to pursue photography whether you like it or not. I'm not staying in this hellhole forever."

"You walk out that door, you're out of here forever."

And out you went with only a couple of clothes and some leftover college money. The only sliver of hope you had was Peter.

"Hey, y/n?" Peter asked as soon as you got inside the elevator. "Hypothetically, if Nick asked you out on a date, would you say yes?"

You gave him a weird look after the elevator doors closed before you. "I don't know, man. Never dip the pen in company ink, right?" You fished for your apartment key on your purse. "How are you so sure he's gonna ask me out?"

"He flat out told me that's how." He replied. "Yesterday night. So, if he does ask you..."

"Why are you so invested in my dating life?"

"You have no dating life." He retorted.

Peter was one to talk. He also didn't have one.

"You know what I mean, idiot."

He shrugged. "Just curious."

The elevator doors opened and you both headed towards your apartment unit, with Peter still yapping about Nick this and Nick that. You groaned, getting ultimately tired of hearing Nick's name and the possibility of you and him dating. "Maybe you should date him, Parker."

"You date him."

You gave him a confused look. "Shut up, Parker."

"Wait, you know what? Don't date him. I don't like him for you. He's weird and -- "

"No, I mean it. Shut. Up." You hissed, stopping on your tracks and grabbing Peter by his arm. You were right outside your apartment unit. There was a small gap between the door and the door frame. It seemed like someone broke in..

"What do we do? What do we do?" Peter half-yelled, half-whispered.

"Have the cops on speed dial. If it really is a robbery, call them. Got it?"

"What if they have guns?"

"I'll tell them to shoot you first."

"Gee, thanks for looking after me. Appreciate it."

You smirked, your hands already on the door. Slowly, you pushed it away from your body, failing to make it as quiet as possible as the door creaked against the floorboards. You gently looked around the dark living room, seeing no sign of someone inside -- until your eyes caught something moving on the couch. Your eyes went wide. You went back in the hallway where Peter was standing with his phone in his hand, ready to press the call button.

"Well?" He was waiting for an answer.

"I think someone's crashing on our couch?" Even you looked confused.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Either that or a large animal just broke into our apartment. Come on, let's go see." You whispered, trying not to wake up the uninvited guest.

"I'm not going in there!"

"Fine, I'll wake the bastard up." You groaned. "Pussy."

"Dick." He snickered but zipped his mouth shut as soon as you sent him a glare.

Without a noise, you managed to get closer, using the light from your phone as a guide. On the couch was a huge blanket sprawled across and under that was the rhythmic sound of someone breathing. Your hand lightly trembled, reaching for the blanket to unveil whoever was under it; but before you could even touch a single thread, the person jumped out of the couch, and so did your heart. You let out a scream, falling backwards and hitting your head on one of the small tables beside the couch. The unknown person stood on the couch, and awfully joined your screams. The lights suddenly turned on, with Peter standing by the door.

"Oh my god!" You yelped as soon as you realized the man in front of you was naked. No clothes, no nothing, just bare skin against the cold breeze. Your hands immediately flew to your eyes. "Who the hell are you?" Your screamed at him.

He urged you to remove your hand from your eyes, telling you he was wrapping the blanket around his waist. Thankfully, he wasn't lying.

"Bucky?" Peter breathed, approaching the scene.

"This is Bucky?" You asked in disbelief.

Bucky smiled and jumped off the couch, offering his hand. "Hi, I'm Bucky."

[hualianff]

More Than This VI 《V》

It’s no surprise XL gains his own taste of fame after walking the red carpet with one of the most sought-after actors in the country. He doesn’t mind it, going as far as to create a few social media accounts to interact with fans and scroll through their photos and edits of him. He has a few fan sites too, but only for fancy events where he chooses to be recognized in public.

XL and HC agreed before sharing their relationship with the public that they would maintain a strong sense of privacy when it came to their personal lives. They only share what they want to. The paparazzi who manage to take photos without permission are immediately disciplined so it doesn’t happen again.

(“I can’t believe you did it.”

“Hmm, Gege said he was okay with it.”

“I know! But I didn’t expect you to actually....” XL stares at a recent selfie of them HC had posted on his Twitter, taken the night HC won his award. “We look like we just had sex.”

“Nobody’s gonna know.”

XL raises an unimpressed eyebrow at his boyfriend. HC insists again.

“Nobody’s gonna know-”

“They’re gonna know,” XL says with a sigh, pointing to the hickey marks clearly visible on the photo. HC rolls over closer to XL in their bed, scrutinizing the image on XL’s phone.

“Oh, I didn’t see those when I posted the photo.”

“San Laaang!” XL cries, pushing at the taller man’s shoulder before burying his face into his pillow. HC makes XL breakfast in bed as an apology and promises to not drunk-post anything again.)

Eight months after officially dating–which is over two years since they met–HC asks XL to move in with him. XL doesn’t even need to think about his answer, a simple “Yes! Yes please!” escaping his lips. Both HC and XL’s faces light up with overjoyed smiles.

They seem to have had the same idea about where to live, purchasing a home they’ve been eyeing for months! The best aspects include a massive yard (front, side, and back) for XL to tend to, a hot tub, and a spacious living and dining room area to entertain guests. It’s not the grandest or most impressive residence by size or feature. In fact, the first months have them living in a half-finished, rusty house with the prettiest garden you’ve ever seen.

It gradually gets better. HC and XL knew they would have to do a lot of work to improve the shape of their home. Over the next year, they repair and remodel the house themselves, simultaneously adding value to the property and curating the style to fit their dream home. XL makes sure to post progress photos on his social media. His most recent selfie of HC and himself in hardware glasses got over 500k likes! He pinned HC’s comment that said, “Gege is my own very handyman!”

(HC, in a sleeveless tee, shorts that show off his ass, hair pulled back into a high bun: “Gege, you’re the boss now. Tell me what to do.”

XL, struggling not to gawk at HC’s side boobs: “O-okay, first, can you smash those cabinets-”

Cue them making out against the counter when it’s the only part of the kitchen that is fully done.)

***

Having a partner who considers the outdoors as a second home is a special experience. XL often takes HC on dates to national parks and plant nurseries. They go on weekend camping trips where XL teaches HC how to properly filter water, summit long stretches of terrain, and stay warm during cold nights with below-freezing temperatures.

(HC, trying to fit into XL’s sleeping bag: “Hi, gege-”

XL: “San Lang, you have your own sleeping bag that you can actually fit in.”

HC: ‘But I’m cold. Gege helps keep me warm.”

XL: “Fine. But let’s use yours because it’s bigger.”

HC, kissing XL’s forehead: “Thank you, my love.”)

On their hikes, XL points to different plants, explaining their origins and why he finds each one particularly beautiful. At first, HC picks up random flowers on the way home and then he asks XL about what flower fate gave him that day to gift his beloved. (“San Lang, that’s not allowed!”) HC eventually stores all the random facts in his mind, always eager to listen to XL talking about his passion. He also learns to keep his hands from digging up “poor, helpless plants from their home soil.”

However, this unfortunately doesn't prevent HC from accidentally squishing some plants in their yard that he thought were just weeds.

(HC, thinking he’s a good partner: “Get out, stupid weeds. CHOP CHOP!”

XL: “SAN LANG STOP, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

HC: “Gege always works so hard. I just wanted to help you in the yard today because you deserve it.” 🥺

XL: *sigh* “I appreciate the gesture, San Lang. But those particular grasses took months to grow, and you just killed them-“)

***

Countless media outlets try to stir up trouble like they typically do with celebrities. Especially when HC has roles that involve romance, articles claiming HC and XL are on the brink of breaking up receive lots of attention. However, what gains more attention are the videos the couple posts on Youtube or Instagram live of their reactions to their “scandals.”

(XL, reading a headline: “Actor bachelor Hua Cheng and co-star Yushi Huang seem to be cozying up after a late-night shoot.’”

HC: “I’m not a bachelor, the fuck?”

XL, smiling: “You could be. Me as well. We can be bachelors together.”

HC, chuckling: “All right. If gege is, then so am I.”

The comments: “That doesn’t make any sense!?”

HC, reading another headline: “HC’s lover found with a mysterious third party??”

XL, exclaiming: “Oh, that’s Shi Qingxuan! You know, the designer for all our red carpet outfits!” 🥰🥰

HC: *nodding along*

XL, cheekily: “-and my secret second-lover”

HC: *blanches* “What.”

XL: “Kidding!!!! San Lang is the only one for me, hehe.” *kisses HC’s cheek* “Okay, next one!”)

Everyone watching the videos is 50% confused and 50% entertained as HC and XL make light of any drama the media portrays them in. Viewers accept that of course, the rumors aren’t true; HC and XL are still very much in love.

They’re in love with each other and will continue falling for many years to come.

***

HC doesn’t like watching himself on screen. However, he does enjoy previewing his own movies for the first time with his boyfriend.

While XL watches the new movie, HC observes XL’s reactions. It helps that XL is a conversational movie watcher too. XL’s narrations consist of horny comments during the sexual scenes (“Ooh, that’s hot. Nice tongue.” “Thank you?”), side remarks about the plot and characters (“San Lang, your character is very rude.” “...”), and dramatic reactions to the huge reveal scenes where HC becomes a human punch bag. (“Oh my goooosh, San Lang!! It was him all along- AHH!!”)

As a perfectionist, something you have to be in HC’s field of work, HC is incredibly self-critical of his performance. Which is another reason why it’s nice to have XL watch alongside with, who never has a shortage of praises for his boyfriend.

(HC: “Fuck, why did they leave this shot in the final? I’m supposed to be mourning for my dead lover but instead, I look like I’m crying out of daddy issues. Why did no one tell me!? It looks so bad-” *pointing to himself on the screen* “-stop looking so constipated-!”

XL, squeezing HC’s nape and massaging his shoulders: “San Lang, no one thinks that except for you. You did everything perfectly. Please acknowledge your hard work and just enjoy the movie.”

HC: *sigh* “You’re right. Okay. Thanks, gege.”

A beat of silence. HC cuddles closer to XL.

HC: “Love you.”

XL: “Love you too.”)

***

XL now knows HC’s movies well enough to quote HC’s lines in his movies to make him laugh. HC happily indulges him, questioning after breaking character, “Gege, are you sure I’m the actor out of the two of us?”

One time, HC and XL are in their kitchen re-enacting a scene with HC as the investigator going to a bartender for more information on his suspect. HC has XL caged against the counter, asking in a teasing manner, “How can I repay you for your help tonight?”

XL lowers his eyelids, looking up through his lashes, flawlessly depicting his character. “Any restrictions on your offer?”

“No, darling. Name a price, a brand, a desire. Right now, anything is on the table,” HC says huskily. XL slyly bites his lip.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

XL brings a hand up to cup HC’s jaw, then smooths it down his neck, traveling down his bare chest. XL tilts his head to expose his neck, wanting to build up his boyfriend’s anticipation. But before he can say his next line, HC effortlessly throws XL over his shoulder like a bag of rice.

“San Lang, wait, this is not how it went in the movie!” XL shouts, a little dizzy from the sudden lift turning him upside down. HC takes long strides to their bedroom, plopping XL on their mattress and blanketing him with his larger frame.

HC only utters a husky “we’re improvising” before diving down to devour XL’s lips. XL’s arms hook around HC’s neck, holding him impossibly close.

***

After a filming shoot where HC’s character gets beaten up–HC performing his own stunts–he heads home beyond exhausted. He just wants to take a relaxing shower and cuddle his boyfriend in their warm bed.

HC arrives at their house a little past midnight. He opens the door and finds XL’s back facing him, quietly humming a song as he takes care of the vase in the living room. The sight makes HC smile.

However, as XL turns around, the vase slips from his hands and explodes into pieces on the ground.

“San Lang! What happened to you!?” XL cries out, the panic in his voice only comparable to the day he had confessed. HC stands in the doorway confused. Was something wrong with his appearance?

XL is on him in an instant, his pupils shaking as he frantically asks, “Does it hurt a lot? What happened!?”

HC blinks, expression blank as he still doesn't understand what has freaked XL out. But as the shorter man gently caresses HC’s face, it suddenly hits him.

The make up!

HC urgently starts rubbing the fake bruises off his face. “Gege, I’m okay! It’s just make up, none of this is real. See?” He holds his hands out for XL to see as the pigment stains HC’s palms. “I’m so sorry! San Lang is dumb, he didn’t mean to make you worry,” HC murmurs as he takes XL between his arms. He really loves this man too much.

XL’s teary eyes shine glimmer as HC embraces him. “Y-you’re sure you’re okay?”

HC nods, leaning into the slender hand that cups his cheek.

“Thank goodness,” XL breaths out as he buries his face into HC’s neck. His next words are slightly muffled. “It looks…so realistic.”

“Yeah, the make up artists are all quite talented, aren’t they?”

XL clings tighter to HC.

“Very much so. Let’s shower so we can properly wash it off.”

“All right,” HC says. “Wait, we?”

XL tugs HC toward the master bathroom.

“Hush, let’s go.”

***

They lay in bed together after four long months of separation. Both of them had been in different parts of the country; HC filmed a drama series while XL traveled for several high-profile projects. Their respective busy work schedules limited communication to brief video chats and text messages, which never seemed enough.

Now, with his head resting on HC’s chest, their legs overlapping comfortably, XL finally feels like he’s where he belongs.

“Why did you choose me?”

Tactical fingers massage XL’s scalp, lulling him into a serene state of bliss. XL nuzzles further into his boyfriend-sized pillow.

“It’s not like I can choose who I fall in love with, Gege,” HC states with a light chuckle. “But if you want an answer, it’s because you are everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.”

XL looks up at his boyfriend, mouth forming a shape of an O.

“That simple? Even when we made a deal to have no strings attached?” XL asks. HC groans at the reminder of their initial agreement.

“Yes, which was a dumb decision on my part.”

“I agreed to it too. We were both dumb.”

They are silent for a moment. It’s not the first time they’ve talked about or referenced their insecurities when it came to confessing their feelings. XL’s luck when it came to dating someone who could love him for every part of him was practically nonexistent. HC’s constant grappling for his self-identity and worth rendered most of his relationships superficial. And temporary.

Always temporary.

“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t like your plants though. They’re so pretty. And fascinating.” HC says, breaking the silence.

“They take up half our living room space.”

“So? You work with plants all day. They’re bound to be a part of your personal life as well.”

XL’s heart bursts with a sudden fondness. It’s a wonderful thing to be appreciated for the little things.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says happily. HC hums in response, sending vibrations to where XL’s cheek lays on his chest. “I can’t believe I didn’t know you were a famous actor for the first three months we…”

“Met up for sex?” HC finishes with an impish grin.

“Yes,” XL laughs.

“It was nice not to be recognized for once. With you, I could just be myself,” HC says with ease he never thought he would be able to do. He’s struggled with letting himself be vulnerable his whole life. It turns out, HC just had to find the right person. And thank god he did. XL is more than HC’s outlet from his career. He’s become HC’s closest friend who knows him the best; he is HC’s number one supporter in any endeavor he pursues; he makes HC feel important. XL sees and loves HC for who he is. No amount of fame or wealth could come close to comparison.

“Gege?”

“Hmm?”

“Does it ever bother you that my life is always everyone else’s business?” HC softly asks.

“Well, the fame can be a bit…uncomfortable,” XL admits. “But you’re an amazing actor. And a remarkable person. I can’t blame your fans for loving you so much, you know? I also got to ride in a limo-“

“Which you rode very well-”

XL flicks his boyfriend’s forehead.

“You’re so predictable.”

“You would’ve said the same thing given the chance. Don’t lie, gege.”

They go back and forth a little longer, never once creating unnecessary distance between each other as they roll around until they’re on their sides. Facing each other in their bed that’s been vacant for months, HC and XL are inseparable.

“As I was saying, fame is something that comes with your job–your passion. You can’t control it, nor does it solely characterize who you are. Besides, I get to be a part of your life! That’s all that really matters,” XL continues. He shifts forward so their bodies are closely pressed together. XL plants a kiss on HC’s chin, then whispers a confession that tilts HC’s entire world on its axis.

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone like you.”

HC’s world spins and spins until all that he sees is his beloved, gleaming brighter than all the galaxies without the power to disrupt their orbit. He wraps his arms around XL and kisses the top of his head.

“Me too, Gege.”

Bonus:

HC watches wearily as XL salivates at a showering scene where HC’s bare ass flashes in the frame. XL turns to HC with a serious look in his eyes.

“San Lang! Hiking has done your ass wonders.”

XL sneaks a grope to a meaty cheek. HC chokes.

***

“You can’t be late to your own premiere!” XL cries incredulously.

“Try me,” HC purrs into XL’s ear, delicately kissing the lobe.

XL gasps as teasing hands roam around his torso, one of them slipping down to cup his behind. He vaguely thinks about how SQX is expecting them in the next hour to help with their red carpet outfits. But when hungry lips attach to the sensitive column of his neck, XL is a goner.

“Gege doesn’t have to do any work. Just lay back and look pretty.”

(Brainchild with @no-one-says-hi!)

[sulfurousdreamscapes]

Parts 7/7 complete.

Wow! This is the longest story I’ve written on Sulfurous Dreamscapes yet, I think. It’s wrapped up and presented all neat-like for you to enjoy and share! I hope you like it!

What: Girl with no heart meets demon boy.

How long: 4,300 words

Genre: Dark urban fantasy

CW: Implied sex, firearm violence, threat of physical violence, immolation, suicide mention, death

---

“It’ll only cost you a heart,” the demon at the ferry’s ticket counter said. A faint moustache was growing in above his crimson lips, probably his first one ever. He wasn’t smiling.

“I don’t have one,” I said and held up the purse hanging by my side.

The way he shook his head slightly, it made his tousled hair rock side-to-side. If it weren’t for the meat-red skin and the thick horns emerging from the top of his forehead, I could’ve mistaken him for just any other young man in a plaid shirt.

“Sure you do,” he sat up straight and smirked. It cast the thinnest, darkest shadow from the light of the warm table lamp.

I let go of the purse and let it pat my thigh. “What makes you think I have one?”

He leaned to get a look over my shoulder, but there was no one behind me. There was probably no one around for miles. His lips momentarily parted to reveal a pair of canines shined slick and sharp.

“You don’t get to come this far without a heart,” he said, voice sinking a little deeper. Still, he was too young to sound that mature.

I put my arm out in front of him, wrist facing up, fist lightly balled and bent away.

“No heart,” I said.

He glanced at the wrist for a moment. His own hand encircled mine with room to spare, but he wasn’t checking my pulse. He stood up, taller than me by several inches, and pulled me closer by the arm. With his other hand, he formed an open palm and placed it on my chest.

The demon’s eyes were already looking at the floor far behind me. Whatever he was feeling, he couldn’t let it show on his face, so he just waited and waited. He got nothing.

“I could pay you in coin,” I said as he slowly released his hold of my other hand. I shook on the strap of the purse, making the coins clink.

The demon glanced at my eyes, my chest, and my purse. “I only wanted your heart,” he said. After that last word, his lips stayed open. Just like a little boy, too confused to try and look cool now.

But I smiled and leaned forward, resting my elbows on the counter while he sat down like a good boy. “Looks like I can’t get on the ferry now, can I?”

His nostrils flared for a moment, then he licked his lips. “That’ll be thirty-five,” he pressed three buttons and waited for the whirring printer to co-operate.

I popped the purse open, but kept my eyes on him. He glanced at mine for a moment, just as he was pulling out the ticket paper, which he tore unevenly.

“Maybe I’ll pay you with a heart anyway,” I said, clicking my purse closed again, smiling at him.

“No, it’s fine,” he mumbled, struggling to look in my eyes. “I was just messing with you.”

I pinched his shirt and pulled him close enough to feel his breath. “But I’m not.”

Part 2

Even with his head turned the other way, I recognised him by his horns. Yeah, that was Notchel alright, hunched over the bar in his plaid shirt, nursing a beer. Now and then, he rocked his head to the country music playing from the jukebox.

“Fancy seeing you here, demon boy,” I patted his back and settled onto the stool next to his.

His canines looked a lot less intimidating now, but he pursed his lips soon enough. “Beer?” he asked.

I laughed. “No, I think I’ll have a real drink.”

I got the bartender to make me a tequila sunrise. Notchel glanced at it, then looked at the jukebox again, as if it was an artist putting on a performance.

“Didn’t think you’d be friends with the towners,” I said after a few sips. He pretended not to hear at first, but he half-turned to me soon after.

“I’m not. It’s their town,” he said.

The bartender stepped closer to us with a bubbly smile and wink. “He’s a friend.”

Notchel looked like he was going to say something to that, but he actually shook his head instead.

“Such a kind little demon boy,” I laughed, looking him over, trying to imagine his skin underneath. “Sounds like the towners love you.”

He nodded at the beer. “Everyone loves a demon who doesn’t want to haunt you.”

“’s that why you wanted a heart?” I asked.

Notchel glared at me, and the bartender leaned over the bar with a meaty grin. “What’s this about a heart now?” the middle-aged man grinned, toggling between the two of us.

I took a few draughts of my drink and grinned back at the bartender. “See, at the ferry ticket office, he—”

“Can you please just not,” Notchel groaned, burying his head in a hand. Below his hand, he was breaking into a lightly dimpled smile.

“He wanted my heart!” I laughed.

The bartender laughed with me, and we both looked at the embarrassed demon boy for his reaction. He was shaking his head, which was still in his hands, but at least he was smiling now.

“Did you get it?” the bartender asked, patting Notchel by the shoulder and shaking him a little.

“No,” he said, doing his best to look up at the bartender.

“Yeah, I don’t have a heart,” I grinned, and picked up my drink to finish it.

The song in the jukebox ended, but no new song was picked. The bartender’s smile dissolved into his blush-red face while he stared at me. “You don’t have a heart?” he asked, seemingly through his walrus moustache.

Notchel grabbed my wrist and got off the stool.

The bartender wiped his hands with a cloth and threw it away before bending down and pulling open a drawer.

“Come on, come on,” Notchel pulled my wrist, dragging me off the stool and towards the bar entrance.

From behind me, I heard a shotgun being loaded with shells. A crack, a click.

Notchel barged the door open, throwing down an elderly man who had been standing just outside.

“What’s going on, dude?” I asked, but thankfully, by then I was out of the door and just out of the spread of the shotgun pellets.

Part 3

“Riddle me this, demon boy,” I swerved right on the highway, and then glanced at Notchel. His horns were hidden by the dark, so all I could see of him was his blank, squinting face and his stupid moustache.

“Demon boy,” I called his name out in song. “How come you’ve got the horns and I’m the one getting shot at?”

His hands were resting neatly on each lap. “What happened to your heart?” he asked in response.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said, and he even looked at me.

“That’s kind of a personal question, you know?” I kept my eyes on the patch of road lit by the headlights. There was nothing in the rear view mirror, so I went easy on the accelerator.

“Did you just never have one?”

I kept my eyes on the road.

“Did it stop working?”

I kept my eyes on the road.

“It broke.”

I hit the wheel with one hand, and I swore. The words hung about the interior of the car, like warm breath. He swore too, a little quietly. Now our swears were together at last.

“Are the pieces still in there?” he was looking at my chest, I noticed.

“Could you stop staring at my chest?” I frowned at him.

“Do you feel them? They’re probably cracking and tinkling behind your ribs. You’d hear them when you sit down and get up, or if you run too hard.”

I didn’t really want to, but I nodded. Sometimes your body is just its own participant in a conversation. The more tired it gets, the more of a life it seems to gain.

Notchel lowered his gaze to the gear stick. “Yeah,” he said, stopping before he said any more.

We didn’t say anything to each other for so long that I could’ve fit in several songs from my favourite playlist.

“Where should I drop you off? The ferry ticket office?” I hadn’t even checked the GPS to know where I was, but I had a lot of gas in the tank.

“Drop me off wherever, I don’t care,” he shrugged. “Just in case something happens to you though…”

It took me a few seconds before I glanced at him and noticed he was staring at me again. “What?” I asked, checking the road for a moment and then looking at him again.

He opened his lips just slightly, and leaned towards me to peck me. Before he could escape, though, I grabbed his collar and pressed my own lips against his. I could tell from his kissing that he wasn’t expecting that.

“Eyes on the road, broken heart girl,” he said as we withdrew, almost allowing himself to laugh.

“Yeah, eyes on the road,” I turned away from him. “Wouldn’t want something to happen to me.”

With no one following us and no car having passed us in some time, I slowed the car.

“Pull over,” he said as he sat up straight in his seat.

I pulled over to the side and unlocked the car doors. “See ya, demon boy,” I said as I killed the engine. As soon as I turned towards him, though, his lips were locked with mine and his hands were gripping me tight, long-nailed thumbs grazing my cheeks.

When I climbed on him, it was still too dark to see him clearly. I could see his eyes though, and that was all I needed. Almost.

“We gotta saw your horns off if you want to kiss me right,” I said.

Part 4

Notchel’s room smelled of old books and sweat. Towers of yellowed paperbacks and faded hardcovers took up half the floorspace. The remaining area was taken up by a wooden wardrobe, a table hosting a laptop and a table fan, and a futon. A tiny slit of mint green carpet was all you could actually walk on. I’d seen Norwegian prison cells bigger than this.

“I thought we came here just to grab ‘a few things’,” I said.

“You did most of the grabbing, though,” he smirked. He was probably going for an ironic sleazeball look, but he just looked like a dork.

“There was nothing to grab. It was more of a pinch, really.”

“Oh, shut up,” he groaned, which made me cackle. It was a very unsexy cackle.

He dropped his smile a moment later. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered.

“I think someone already—” I was about to quip, but he put a hand around my mouth.

Notchel was already pulling his briefs up when the door rattled and slid open. I caught a glimpse of the woman at the door—black, wavy hair; sweat-damp white shirt, dark trousers, and a glare that could set paper on fire. Her skin was a little more pastel than Notchel’s, and her right horn was longer and sharper than his. Her left horn was sawed off.

“Ah, fuck,” she said, and the door slammed shut again.

I turned to Notchel, who was already throwing himself into his jeans.

“Sister? I’m guessing sister,” I laughed.

“Elder. She’s a bitch,” he pulled his zip up and tossed me my underwear. “Probably going to be mad, too.”

“Fun,” I smiled with irony as I got up.

There was barely any space for both of us to get dressed in his room, but he finished first (of course he did), and was approaching the door when it slid open again, a little more cautiously this time.

“You guys done yet? Need any refreshments?” Her livid expression didn’t really match her sarcastic tone. After glaring at Notchel, she stared at me, and then at my chest. I slipped my top on.

“Just came here to grab a few things,” Notchel’s voice was a lot weaker in front of his sister. “We’re getting out of this town.”

Notchel’s sister pulled out her phone and shoved its screen in Notchel’s face.

“No, that’s quite alright, Notchel,” she grit her teeth. “It’s not like I’ve been getting warnings from the townspeople all evening.”

Notchel grabbed the phone from her hands and studied it. I peeked over his shoulder to read one of the messages on the screen. “We tolrated your kidn [sic], but we will not stand for more. Take care of the girl or we’ll take care of her.”

I flicked my gaze up at Notchel’s sister, who stood taller than the both of us. As soon as I met her eyes, she broke out into a gracious grin. Her canines popped over her lips.

“Hi!” she extended a hand towards me. “I’m Catrisse.”

Her handshake was the strongest and firmest I’ve ever had from a woman. Okay, well, from a demon.

“Izzie,” I smiled.

Notchel handed back the phone to his sister. “We’re getting the hell out of Dodge anyway. You coming?”

Catrisse checked her phone for other messages. “Where are you going?”

Notchel shrugged. “We haven’t really decided yet.”

“Actually, we’re going to a place I know,” I cut in. “It’s a twelve-hour drive, though. At least.”

Catrisse grinned at me again. “Can we leave my brother here?”

It got a laugh out of me. “Nah, I don’t think I want the guilty conscience of leaving him here to die.”

“Aw come on,” Catrisse punched my shoulder lightly, “He’s a demon.”

“So are you,” I grinned.

Notchel groaned. “God, I don’t believe you. Both of you. Can we just get to the car before a mob shows up?”

The answer was no, no we could get to the car before a mob showed up. Their cars and trucks had taken over what little parking space there was, and they were waiting with bats, sticks, and rods. I spotted a gun. The bartender was nowhere to be seen, but I didn’t really miss him.

Catrisse took a deep breath and blew it out. “Well, what’s your plan now, boy genius?”

“I’m not a boy,” I cut in before Notchel could answer, which got Catrisse laughing so hard, she closed her eyes and almost hunched over. I mean, it got me laughing too. Catrisse was wheezing by the time the mob had noticed us.

Notchel sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I wish it wasn’t like this. They gave us a home, they let us work… I feel like we’re the ones who betrayed them, you know? I mean, we agreed to the rules.”

Three young men in hoodies and baggy pants marched towards us. They were, in order, Sledgehammer, Knife, and Crowbar. Crowbar seemed to be the leader.

“What was the rule?” I asked.

“No attracting demons apart from us,” Notchel clasped his hand in mine. “If you don’t have a heart, you’d might as well be a demon to them.”

He turned to his sister. “We should apologise. They’ll probably let us go. Maybe they’ll even let Izzie stay.”

I looked at Catrisse too. “Is he always like this?”

The men approaching us were screaming profanities and telling us about all the horrible things they were going to do to us. It was as if internet trolls had come to life.

“Yeah,” she said without looking away from the men. “He’s a dumbass, but he is my brother.”

I raised my hand to protect my eyes as a flash lit up the place. Squinting, I saw Crowbar’s self completely obscured by thick, billowing flames. He didn’t scream for very long, but the other two men did. They broke away and ran.

“Got a lot more where that came from,” Catrisse screamed into the night as car doors slammed and engines came alive.

Part 5

“You pawned your horn?” I slammed the car door and followed Catrisse towards the light-soaked pawn shop. Broken neon signs glowed a list of things the shop would take off your hands. Green dollar signs, the kind with two vertical bars through them. Looked like a supposedly fun place you’ll never visit at a good time in your life.

“No, I didn’t pawn my horn, I just let her keep it,” Catrisse said as she opened the door. A bell tinkled in response, but Catrisse grabbed it and ripped it off of its hook before throwing it over her shoulder, just near Notchel’s feet.

“Did she pay you for it?” I asked. Meier’s Pawn Shop wasn’t large, but it sure was packed. How did they even get that huge reindeer wall hanging through the door? The answer would shock you.

“No she didn’t,” Catrisse frowned at me. “But she did lend me money shortly after.”

“So you pawned your horn.”

“Nooo,” Catrisse complained with a smile. There was no bell at the counter, so she rapped her knuckles on the wood instead. “Look, she and I were a thing, once upon a time. I actually sawed it off for her, the horn, so I could kiss her better.”

I turned to look at Notchel, who was comparing an orange power drill with a yellow one. His horns were just a bit longer than the actual drills.

“Uh,” I cleared my throat. “I hope this isn’t offensive, but…”

Catrisse made that face. That ‘Yeah, I am so over your bullshit before it’s even begun’ face.

Licked my lips for good measure. “Do your horns grow back if you saw them off?”

I waited for her answer, but she just looked at my belly and then the floor for a bit. “No. I don’t know. Maybe? Could be they’re growing so slow it’ll take a hundred years before we see then grow an inch.”

“Do you miss having it?”

Catrisse shrugged. “I mean, it’s a lot more convenient this way, and I haven’t even taken off my other horn yet. And plus, I get to look like Hellboy. You know, if he was a girl. And still had one horn. And was gay. And uh…”

A young man with a goatee appeared through the staff door. He didn’t look like he’d been sleeping at all. He had his eyes on Notchel as he approached the counter, but then he turned to the two of us.

Catrisse frowned. “You new? Where’s H?”

The man leaned forward onto the counter. “H is out of town. Seeing family in Israel. You got business with the shop, I’ll handle it. And tell your brother there to be careful with the shit.”

“The shit. Right,” Catrisse turned away from the man and grimaced at me. “H could’ve put us up for a bit, so this is definitely not going according to plan.”

Notchel put the orange drill on the counter and leaned forward himself. “Patrick,” he smiled just enough to show his canine. “Everything working out for you? Things must be on the up and up since the ferry drowned with your dad on it.”

Patrick looked jaded and expressionless, but the tension couldn’t be thicker. He stood up straight again.

“One night, that’s it,” he groaned. “Dawn breaks, all three of you scamper.”

Notchel grinned. “Thanks, man.”

Part 6

“Hey H,” Catrisse spoke into her phone, sitting with her knees up, caged by the balcony railing. “Hope you’re doing okay. Hope your grandparents are doing okay. Hope they’re still alive.”

She sent the message and then swiped at the phone screen a few times.

Notchel and I sat on the creaking bed, its mattress so worn out that it probably did belong to H’s grandparents. Notchel had his legs crossed, hands on his knees, and eyes closed. He took deep breaths. Demon boy was practising yoga right here in some chick’s apartment after almost getting killed.

“H, yeah, sorry for the messages,” Catrisse began again. “Did you take my old horn with you? I hope it’s a good good luck charm for you. You’ll remember me by it. And if you don’t want to remember me, you can always throw it into the Dead Sea.”

I gripped Notchel’s hand on his knee, and he clasped his fingers over mine. “Notchel, hey,” I whispered to him, and he pulsed his grip in response. “You saved my life there, you know. Thanks. Seriously.”

He winced when I said ‘thanks’. His breathing was off, too.

“Anyway, H, just I thought you should know that I helped someone. It’s this… girl. She isn’t a demon, and Notchel likes her, he has a thing for her. Helped her get out of town, and we’re on the run. We’re holed up in your old place, actually, above the pawn shop. But anyway, you know what means, right?”

I rested my head on Notchel’s shoulder. “I wish I really could give you my heart,” I said. “I’d give it to you in a heartbeat, you know?” I smiled and looked at him to see if he got the joke, but his eyes were closed and there wasn’t a flicker of expression on his face. I pecked him on the cheek.

“H,” Catrisse’s voice was strained now, almost a little dramatic. “I just want to eat stupid fries with you again, while the world burned itself down. Ugh, sorry. Sorry, I’m so sorry.”

She sent the message and broke down crying, rubbing off her tears with the back of her wrist.

“She’s in pain,” I said to Notchel. “You should do something.”

He shook his head dismissively.

“She’s your sister, Notchel,” I put my arms around him. “Come on.”

Notchel took one final deep breath and got off the bed. He approached his sister and hugged her. Her sobbing became louder, and she choked. “What the fuck are you doing, you idiot?” She pushed him away with some force, sending him staggering a few steps back towards the room.

“Am I not enough?” she choked at Notchel, and her eyes were leaking with tears. “You want to get yourself killed too?”

Notchel shoved his hands into his pockets and returned to the bed, where he took up a meditation pose again.

“You were right about her being a bitch,” I whispered to him.

“She’s dying,” he stressed as he closed his eyes. “Every word of kindness, every kind deed, every act of selflessness, it’s a gash into a demon’s body. Rends them apart, leaves them bleeding.”

“You can do something bad though, right? Kill an innocent? Make someone’s life hell? Will that help?”

This time, he put his arms around me. “It won’t. Because me and my sister, we’re the worst demons in the world.”

Part 7

At 4 am, I yawned and opened the door behind the pawn shop counter. Patrick turned to face me, and he could've been a fresh corpse with how pale and tired he looked.

"Do you know H well?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, well before he looked me in the eye. "Used to know her real good. She left me the shop."

"Before she went to Israel?" I looked around for pictures of her.

"Shit," he shook his head. "Before she died. Wasn't a pretty way to go, but... you know, she said in her note that she didn't want Catrisse to know. I can respect that."

"Oh," I said. That was all I could say, really.

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck.

"You're just never going to let her know? She's going to find out, some day. She won't be happy with you then."

He shrugged. "Not my problem," he wiped the counter with a cloth. "She won't be alive by then."

I turned him by the shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"They're coming to get her, right when she's weak, when she's feeling safe and kind." He yawned, and then smiled over a sleepy tear. "You should get out while you can, girl. You're one of us, a human being. They'll be here in a few minutes."

Back in the room, Notchel was sprawled on the bed, possibly having fallen asleep while meditating. Catrisse was sitting in the balcony with her head against the bars. I couldn't tell if she was breathing.

Notchel hard my shoes, and he raised his head dreamily at me. "Izzie?" he croaked.

"Notchel," I crouched in front of his bed and held his hand. "Can you walk?"

"I think," he said, and got off of the bed. His footsteps were heavy, and he had trouble orienting himself.  Somehow, he made it to my arms, as if drunk.

"Is Catrisse okay?" I asked.

He looked at his sister and stumbled towards her, crashing in front of her.

"Catrisse," he called out to her, but she didn't move. He shook her shoulder, which only made her head loll. "Hey, come on. Don't mess with me." His voice was getting weaker, but he kept calling her name, imploring her to wake up.

When the tears started streaming down his cheeks, he buried his face in her shoulder and started weeping, hugging Catrisse and shaking her. "Please get up, Catrisse. Why would you do this to me? Why would you do this to H?"

"Notchel," I laid a hand on his shoulder. "H isn't alive. She left a note."

Notchel looked broken when he squinted at me. "That's not... possible." He turned to Catrisse again and tried shaking her awake harder.

"I'm gonna go," I said, standing up. "The townspeople are gonna be here in a few minutes."

"What?" Notchel frowned, confused. His eyes searched for answers. "You can't... You can't leave us like this. You gotta take Catrisse with you, somewhere, anywhere. I'll come."

He struggled to get up, but I stepped away, and he fell to the floor, cursing.

"Sorry, demon boy. I told you, didn't I?" I smiled. "I haven't got a heart."

[meteorit3737]

2

Noise and dim light reigned in the bar, full of Symphonic's employees and several partner companies, there were small lanterns in the form of candles on the tables, casting the shadows of visitors on the halloween surroundings. Bartenders with scars painted offered Bloody Mary, and in the hellish flickering around zombies and vampires it was sometimes difficult to get to know work acquaintances whom you see every day in formal suits. Donna greeted fifty people in 15 minutes, made her way to the bar and ordered a glass of wine, feeling that the evening had barely begun already bored her. Cam, as usual, was late. No, to be honest, since the beginning of their new collaboration, Cameron was almost don't late and Donna had nothing to reproach her with, but now she suddenly felt very lonely and was seized with a burning desire for her business partner to be here this very second.

- Donna Emerson? - Donna heard from the neighbor on the right and turned in that direction. Two girls in skeleton costumes and Harley Queen looked at her and smiled uncertainly.

- Yes?

- Oh, it's really you! - exclaimed Harley Queen, - I am Laura, and this is Casey. We work in Symphonic.

- Nice to meet you! - Donna shook the girls' hands, painfully trying to remember if she saw them in the office building.

- It's all right, you hardly remember us, -  Casey-skeleton shrugged. “There are so many people. I don’t even know the one tenth here."

- To be honest, I don’t know everyone, either, - Donna admitted.

- We thought we would meet someone interesting here, but under all this make-up zombies it’s hard to see if the guy is cute in front of you, and all the vampires are lisping, - complained Laura.

- Girl's costumes are much more beautiful! You look great in a witch costume! Well, I didn’t mean that you look bad in an ordinary suit or ...  - Casey was embarrassed, and Donna hastened to reassure her that everything was all right.

They ordered another glass of wine and took a sip when the girls looked somewhere behind Donna's back. She turned around. There stood a tall slender vampire in a typical vampire costume with a cloak, lined with a scarlet cloth, with a pale face and thin dark mustache, brown hair smoothly combed back. The vampire smiled at Donna, showing sharp fangs. And there was something so familiar about him ... As Donna tried to gather her thoughts, the vampire said in Cameron's voice:

- Hello, Donna! Sorry for being late, but you can’t imagine how difficult it is to fit a false jaw! Although it’s even more difficult to talk to her, mouth is dry.

Cam neatly took a glass of wine from the hand of a dumbfounded Donna, took a couple of sips and returned the glass back. During this time, Donna managed to recover and once again look at Cameron. She obviously used hair styling products, her dark hair combed back lay in even strands. The natural light color of the skin was emphasized by a dark mustache, glued so neatly and so well matched to the tone of the hair, that if you did not know, it was easy to take them for real. Although the smooth skin on her cheeks suggested some thoughts, the jaw line and large blue eyes drove all thoughts away. Donna recognized the obvious truth - her friend looked like a handsome young man.

- Cam, your suit really suits you!

- Thanks! - Cam flashed a smile again.

Laura and Casey introduced themselves and extended their hands in greeting, Cam shook them, saying: "Cameron Howe." The girls, who were just chatting normally, began to smile wider and shoot at Cam with glances. Donna pondered how to tactfully hint to them that they were mistaken and Cameron is not a guy (although, to be honest, the guy from her turned out to be just a sight for sore eyes), but then one of the employees of Symphonic approached her and asked to take a couple of minutes to talk to him. The man was already drunk, confused in words and interrupted himself, Donna glanced over his shoulder at Cam and the chirping girls who remained at the counter and tried to understand why their conversation occupied her much more than the dialogue with Peters.

Casey fidgeted in a chair and asked Cameron:

- So who do you work? I have not seen you before in Symphonic.

- I am a programmer, but I don’t work in Symphonic, I’m a partner of Donna ... - Cam wanted to finish “in Phoenix”, but Laura interrupted her.

- Oh, I knew that, Donna will have all the best! - Laura exclaimed with only half ostentatious despair.

- A high position, a great figure, a beauty ... - Casey listed, bending her fingers.

- ... A lisping vampire! - added with a laugh Cam.

Laura and Casey burst out laughing.

- Cameron, are you younger? How do you deal with this? - asked Casey.

- What does it matter? - did not understand Cam.

- Well, no, it’s just, uh, it usually happens that the older partner in the pair is a man, and when it’s a woman, then everyone thinks that guy ...

- Hey, wait! - Cam's eyebrows soared up and she just realized that all this time her words were misinterpreted. - Donna and I ...

When mentioning the name of Donna, Cam automatically looked in her direction and saw that the man with whom she was talking now drags her towards the dance floor, and Donna was resisting.

- Damn it! - Cam forgot what she wanted to say, jumped up and began to advance towards the bickering pair. Casey and Laura also got up and watched what would happen next.

Donna despaired to quietly pull her hand out of the grip of a more physically strong man who, after a rambling story, decided to invite her to a dance and did not accept refusal, and was about to scream to embarrass Peters and force him to let her go, when an angry voice sounded near her ear:

- She doesn't want to go with you!

Peters cast a glance at Cam, considered her a weak adversary and, without releasing Donna’s hands, lazily replied: "In turn, fellow, first the lady will dance with me."

Cameron's long arms went around Donna, reached Peters’s arm, her left hand grabbed him just below the wrist, and her right hand lay on the wrist, Cam took a small step forward, clinging to Donna’s back, her hands got a little more space and she made a slight elusive movement with his hand, turning the wrist of the man from whom Peters cried out choked, his grip loosened, Donna's hand was released, and Peters fell to one knee, as if preparing to be knighted. He looked up at Donna and Cam and his face showed that he sobered up quickly and realized his actions and their possible consequences. His eyes widened with horror and pain, he looked from second to second from Donna to Cam and back, muttering apologies.

- Let him go? - Cameron asked so close to Donna's ear that she felt her breath with her skin.

- Uh, yes, perhaps. He seemed to understand, - replied Donna, acutely sensing Cameron’s closeness and wondering if it was normal to want to extend this sensation. Her mark of the soul itched, but now Donna was not up to her.

- Sorry, yes, I get it, - Peters said, barely audible.

Cameron let go of his hand, he immediately clasped it his second hand (the existence of which, it seems, had temporarily forgotten while Cam held it), carefully standed on his feet. Throwing a guilty look at them and again apologizing, he disappeared into the crowd.

Donna turned to Cam and smiled at her:

- Thank you for saving from the dragon, oh beautiful knight!

- Um, well, it's nothing, nothing like that, - Cameron shrugged embarrassedly and put her hands in her pockets.

The movement near the bar counter attracted Donna's attention and she pointed with her eyes at Cam - Casey and Laura joyfully waved their hands, holding their thumbs up.

- It seems you have your own fan club. - Donna playfully nudged Cam with a shoulder. She did not want to return to the girls and tell what happened. - Hey, vampire knight, will you dance with me?

- What? You mean, I saved you from the a thirsty dance dragon, so you took me prisoner and made me dance? - Cam spoke in a mock indignant voice, but took her hands out of her pockets and allowed Donna to take herself to the dance floor. She, too, did not want to return to Laura and Casey. Moreover, they are now finally convinced that Cam and Donna are partners in a more common sense. By the way, had to tell Donna ... They were dancing for about a minute, when Cameron gathered her courage and said:

- Listen, Donna, here, umm ... There was a misunderstanding with Casey and Laura. The fact is that they misunderstood me and now think that you have a boyfriend.

- Indeed? And who is it? - surprised Donna.

- A certain Cameron Howe, - Cam looked at Donna and they both burst out laughing. They stopped dancing, moved to the edge of the dance floor and grabbed a glass of wine from a waiter who was passing by. Before drinking, Cameron removed the vampire teeth, which annoyed her more and more every minute, and put it in her pocket.

- The evening started badly, - Donna said thoughtfully.

- This is all a bad company! I mean, not you, but everyone else.

- Do you propose a change of scenery?

- Why not? On this street, a whole bunch of bars and in each of them today celebrate Halloween, so we will fit.

Cam looked at Donna expectantly, she thought for half a minute and decided that no one would notice her leaving, after all, she was here, Peters would definitely not forget that. Halloween with the co-worker's no longer seemed to her a good idea.

- Let's go! - She grabbed the Cam's hand and went to the door.

***

A few hours later, a taxi stopped near Donna's house and a vampire and a witch clumsily got out of it. Having paid the taxi driver, they staggered into the house and, supporting each other (the vampire was more stable), began to climb the stairs. Hayley met them there.

- Mom? - the girl asked in alarm, looking around their rumpled suits and a red spot on Donna’s companion’s shirt and trying to figure out what to do. - Mom, who is it?

The question triggered an explosion of giggles from both (Giggles? From a vampire? Haley's eyebrows crawled up) and a slurred waving of hands. She took a closer look.

- Cam? Wow! Cool costume! - Haley was thrilled. She went to her mother from the other side and took her hand. Donna and Cam were both staggering, but Donna was clearly more drunk. - Why are you so drunk as a skunk?

- We corract ... corrected the evening! Inspricti ... Inspected the bars! - answered Cameron. He and Haley maneuvered and the three of them went into the doorway of Donna’s room, reached the bed and carefully put Donna on it. Donna immediately fell on her back across the bed and blissfully closed her eyes. Haley threw "I am now!" and ran away. Cam looked at Donna with a hazy look, trying to understand what was wrong with her position, then tried to persuade her to stand up, did not succeed in this, somehow turned her 90 degrees and took off her shoes. For some reason, this terribly tired Cam and caused her an overwhelming desire to sit down and also throw off her shoes.

Then Haley entered the room with two glasses of bubbling liquid in her hands. "Alkazeltser!" she announced, holding out one glass to Cam and trying to wake Donna. Cameron drank and put an empty glass on the nightstand, helped Hayley to set Donna and they even managed to pour half a glass into her before she stopped responding to the outside world and fell into a deep sleep. Haley took the glasses to the kitchen, and when she returned, she found that Cam was sleeping peacefully next to Donna. It looked very ridiculous - Cam in the guise of a vampire, with this stain on his shirt (Haley bent to sniff and made sure that she was right - this is wine), an unbuttoned jacket, and next to Donna in a witch costume. Haley giggled, ran into her room behind the Polaroid and snapped a couple of frames, then she turned off the light and left, carefully slamming the door.

[honeykngdom]

Umm so now that anon brought up older sweetpea, ur gonna need to pop out some hella good headcanons about him :-)

bruh I have so many okay hold the fuck up we’re actually going to recieved a headcanon request and DO IT ON THE SPOT FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER. 

YEAH ITS GONNA BE ABOUT CAL AND SP BC THAT’S WHO I WAS TALKING ABOUT IT IN MY IM’S WITH MY HOMIES, LETS GO SISTERS. 

so after high school, sweet pea and cal had to part ways due to circumstance. sweet pea, being the devoted young man he was, was unable to bring himself to apply anywhere out of state, whereas calliope still had a tight hold on York and was desperate to venture on from Riverdale. it was a heartbreaking decision, being in another country completely without any friends she had made, and alone once again. and she hated it. and she wanted to call him every day but couldn’t. she dated once - he was second year, but decided to change his major and needed the psych course for his co-op down the line. he had pretty blue eyes and a warm smile. they had coffee twice, and he kissed her before she left the car. it was very sweet, and soft, and while cal enjoyed it, it wasn’t what she was looking for. not the same passion, or aggression, or need. she used pea as an excuse for a few different boys that approached, and after the second week, she decided that pea wasn’t going to stop some of them, so she had resorted to bringing her RBF out and put headphones in. to avoid falling into old habits with her very 420 friendly roommate, she spent most of her nights in the library or at the gym. 

sweet pea took over cal’s position when she left; he started busting his ass being their newest bartender to haul in more women. and he did - of all ages, women would flock to his bar and lean forward, pressing whatever assets they had against the counter top with smirks and lusting eyes. he was uncomfortable at first; sure, women had always been a fan of him, that was no surprise. but it made him feel guilty. but when pea could afford an entire new wardrobe, pay his bills, keep the heat on in the trailer and keep gas in his bike for up to a whole week. so he started to wear his cropped sleeves, and went with fangs to their campus gym for runs and ass crack of dawn weight training. the glute pumps certainly benefited his tip jar - the routine stuck. he decided to major in business, mainly because cal had mentioned (all of one damn time, mind you) that he could probably run a business better than anyone else in the southside. fucking bet.

cal’s just graduated with a major in psych, with an econ minor and a degree in social services. her dream is to become a youth outreach worker; she wants to help work to prevent the increase in youth criminal activity by helping at risk youth. being with sweet pea had given her more than enough passion to want to help - hell, she had been an orphan herself. in and out of the foster system, group home to group home, etc. despite struggling to make just the bare necessities for himself, he had happily taken her in multiple times when she needed a place to go. fp had been that hand to steer him in the right direction - she wanted to do that, but with more kids. as many as she could, give them the drive and the hope to do better for themselves. give them the resources and guidance and offer them what they need. most of that in the area involved volunteer work at a local community center in the village, while working full time in an office as a receptionist. there’s a hot student support worker from a local foundation in the area that comes in three times a week, and he’s always chatty. his name is chris and he has a mischievous glimmer in his eyes when he leans forward and says she looked stunning; so she agrees to dinner (for the first time in four years) and goes on a date. she wears a tight red dress, modest, but the way it hugged her perfectly sculpted hips and ass was sinful. they hadn’t even made it through her door before he had her zipper undone and she moaning into his mouth; that was the first time she had gotten any since the day she left riverdale.  

your boy sweet pea? he started putting savings away when he was sixteen, and got his degree in business management and psych. he took out a loan with the serpents, bought out the wyrm and is in the progress of revamping for the younger gen. tall boy and FP were seriously impressed with the mans hustle, and so when FP finally retired, the gang was left to Sweet Pea and Jughead. Now, Jughead didn’t want to be the leader, or poster boy for the serpents, or even the main influence. But he was still very passionate about advocating on behalf of them, and in a way worked as a more giving, far more kind version of penny peabody. offering mediation and ensuring that everyone stays out of trouble in the background, while sweet pea became the voice, being as respected as he was. sweet pea stands at six foot five, and over 200 pounds of gloriously lean muscles. teddy and fangs are his main event planners and bar keeps, while he ensures the books stay balanced, the bar keeps to health code standards, and offers a safe haven to southside kids with no place to go (his heartstrings pulled when he saw a fifteen year old sleeping on a park bench and he thought of toni, maybe even cal.) sweet pea turned the upstairs area into individual rooms with two beds in each for those that couldn’t get home in their drunken states or didn’t have a place to go for the time being. he has an apartment in the southside in a relatively newer building (it’s pretty big compared to the trailer lbr). a new girl came to town, and happens to stumble upon the wyrm thinking it was just another bar - sweet pea liked her fiery spirit. she stayed for a few drinks, played him in a game of pool, and he later invited her up to his office. it’s been just over a year now; she stays at his place four nights a week, because she works as a nurse and tries to get overnights on weekends. 

fangs and sabine are getting married in a week and cal’s super excited for her best friend, but is also nervous. sweet pea would be there. they hadn’t spoken in years. not a single text, not a single call. and she was scared at the person she had returned to would remind him of why it was better that they had parted ways. he didn’t need to know she still thought about him every day, and still has every photograph saved on her laptop. but then her body warms at the thought of seeing him. to see if he had kept his curl, or if he had cut his hair. did he still wears so many god damn rings? so the day she lands and makes it to the boys house, she changes into a pair of ripped jeans and heels and walks her ass straight to her favourite bar 

he caught sight of the blonde hair from his office upstairs; curious, he stepped outside and looked down at her while she talked eagerly with teddy. after five minutes of wondering, he joined them on the main level; sensing his arrival in the quiet bar that tuesday afternoon, she caught his eyes and then paused, turning to face him fully. her hair was just as long as always, and maybe a little tamer, not as wild, but her eyes - those fucking blue eyes still wrenched his gut and gave him butterflies. her features had sharpened, complimenting the equally pointed RBF she had perfected over the years he was sure, and her body - well, sweet pea vividly remembered what he happened to favour the most about her body. his cock twitched in his pants, but pea remained collected. 

his hair was also still long, but it was pulled back now, held into a bun in the same way Teddy’s was. he had covered most of his right arm in tattoos, and she imagined they covered most of his shoulders and chest, too. his body had filled out, stretching his shirt snugly around his arms and chest. the way he says her name still makes her heart skip a beat and makes her want to destroy all her walls again. they shared a beer, he offered to take her out for lunch at pops - she agreed. they spent the day revisiting all the places they used to hangout. apart from pops, there was the quarry, sunnyside, the ruins were southside used to stand, and finally back to the wyrm. they split a couple of drinks, play some pool, and she joins him upstairs to hear more about how he had been. 

the pair had been actively avoiding getting too close throughout the day. hands were shoved into pockets, shoulders ever so lightly brushed against each other as they walked every once and a while, and they were able to return back to the kids they used to be. after a few hours, it were as though no time had passed at all. 

so you can imagine cal’s surprise when another blonde enters his office and calls him baby. 

Calliope Hobbs was one of those women that always got what they wanted, and worked hard to have it all. Sweet Pea would be no exception. 

[ccorneliast]

the real thing - a carrison fanfiction

Rating: T Summary: Carrie and Harrison dance in France. Set in 1977. Based off of the new carrison pictures. Disclaimer: this is a real person fan fiction, so it all definitely came from our imagination and we’re not trying to offend anyone (you know the drill). A/N: this is for @leiasreys​, who asked for something based on those wonderful new pics. also, to the anons who requested it!

On AO3

I hope you like it and don’t forget to tell me your thoughts on it!

“Miss Fisher?” he repeats, louder this time. “Do you?”

The first time Carrie and Harrison were together in France was in 1977. The party was in full swing when they arrived, hand in hand. If Carrie’s memory wasn’t failing, that had been one of the first times (if not the first) where they actually held hands in a public setting. It felt amazing, for a lack of a better word.

“Harrison, Carrie, look to the left!” a man carrying a huge camera shouted. “To the left, big smiles!”

Harrison immediately stiffened and crossed his arms in front of him. Carrie’s hand travelled up to his bicep, lacing her arm through his.

“To the left!” the man insisted.

Harrison obliged, but Carrie didn’t. Her gaze was glued to her date for the night, the impossibly grumpy but oh-so-dashing co-star. He did look insanely attractive in his black suit and white shirt. She’d picked her black dress by chance, not knowing they’d be matching for the whole night, and she couldn’t have been happier that she’d done so. The pictures look incredible.

Sensing him getting tenser by the minute and the ease and carefree mood from a few hours prior dissipating faster than sand in a sandstorm, Carrie tugged on his sleeve and forced his gaze on hers:

“You’re barking up…” she whispers, smiling sweetly.

“The wrong tree!” his mouth metamorphoses into a wide grin.

It’s a sort of game they play. Out of all the games in their repertoire: cat and mouse in between takes, holding their breath the longest while kissing, hide and seek (that their hearts played every day), this was by far the silliest. They didn’t play it often, it was merely a way of alleviating unwanted strain. Yes, they finished each other’s sentences, but not in a cheesy, couple-y way. When they did it, the choice of sayings was never by chance, their voices always a specific tone and in sync. It was a coping mechanism sometimes too. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after all these months.

“Drastic times…” He offers, his arm languidly brushing her torso.

“Ask for drastic measures?”

He laughs and locks his hand in hers. “Call.”

“Ugh, you’re right.” She feigns hurt and defeat, cracking another lazy smile from his lips. “Alright hotshot, my turn.” She scours her mind for a saying she hasn’t used up already as he leads them towards the bar.

“Hit the…” she says, a little too loudly.

“Hold on, baby.” He says. Wait, what did he say?

He turns to the bartender and asks for a glass of scotch. “And the lady?” a thick French accent echoes.

“Oh, I don’t drink.” She replies. Harrison laughs.

“Come on,” his shoulder nudges her, inciting her have a drink. “My treat.”

She blushes at the thought of Harrison Ford buying her a drink. God, I’m hopeless. “Alright, a glass of wine, please.”

Harrison looks pleased enough, turning around to lean back against the bar counter. She takes a tiny tentative step to the right, stepping in front of him. He chuckles at her sudden demure posture and brings a warm hand to her cheek. She smiles, leaning into the warmth. Then, his other hand lands on her waist, gripping it just a little too hard. This gesture forces him closer to her, their faces only inches apart. She closes her eyes, leaning in ever-so-slightly. He leans in too. The room is filled to the brim with noise and chattering and music, but suddenly she loses all notion of English, French and musical notes. He’s the only word she really needs.

“Mister, your drinks.” The bartender declares. Damn.

Harrison clears his throat and pretends like they weren’t about to start making out in public: “Thank you.” He hands her her drink, stepping away from her somewhat.

“Could you please repeat?” He asks, his voice firm.

“Huh?” her look is of pure confusion.

“It’s your turn.” He waves with his hand towards her.

“Oh,” she exhales, taking a sip of her wine. “Hit the…” Carrie repeats.

He pretends to ponder her question for a second before answering: “Hit the hay!”

She furrows her brow and shoots back: “Hit the sack!”

“No one says “Hit the sack”, Carrie!” Harrison teases.

“Well, no one says “Hit the hay” either, Mr. Ford.” She playfully punches his arm and takes another gulp of her wine. She’ll be tipsy in no time.

“Agree to-“ she cuts him off.

“Agree to disagree!” he laughs as he realizes her silliness. She laughs right along with him.

“Come on kid, whatcha say you take this old man for a spin out there on the dance floor?” He sets their drinks down without waiting for her reply and their fingers intertwine. Guess that “baby” was a one-time thing then.

And to the dance floor they go.

She smiles so tenderly as his hands travel the length of her bare arms, locking them on her hips. Like clockwork, her hands wrap around his neck, her fingers dancing in between his brown locks. The song changes to a more upbeat tune thankfully, taking the pressure off of them to slow dance in the middle of all these strangers.

The tempo speeds up and Harrison twirls Carrie around, her little black dress swaying along with her movements. She’s only holding his hand at this point, but he tugs her back into his chest, so close, his hand resting on her back. She holds on to him. His other hand finds hers. He grips it tightly. Their faces regain their previous status of being mere inches apart. Their noses brush, softly.

Then: “A penny for your-“ he whispers, so close to her lips.

“Your thoughts.” Her heart practically jumps out of her body.

“No, not to complete. To answer.” His lips curve into a charming smile just for her. Just for me.

“Oh,” she stiffens in his embrace. I’m in love with you and I want you to take me right here on the dance floor, in a foreign country where we don’t know anyone. Instead, she murmurs: “I’m so happy.”

His hand works its way further around her, their bodies completely glued to each other’s.

“Carrie,” his nose nudges hers, compelling her to look straight into his eyes. Oh, so blue. “Kid, I- I, hum,” he tries.

Then, like a chant inside her mind: What? What, what, what?

“You’re it, kid.” He manages to spit out. “You’re the one I want.”

Wait a second… Does he mean that… He actually likes me?

“Wait, you actually like me?” she shakes her head, her hair cascading down her back. “I’m so confused.”

“Nothin’ to be confused for.” He sets her hand free only to graze his thumb along her bottom lip. “You know me inside out. And even though we’re together most days, I still want one more second with you.”

She shakes her head at the unbelievable words he’s speaking. It’s too much, too perfect, too good to be true.

“Let me get this straight,” her voice is smooth, like honey. “You… love me?” he suppresses a shy laugh, but nods. “You love me?”

“Yes, you.” This time he laughs, a whole, wonderful laugh.

“That’s,” she starts, still disbelieving. “Well, that’s really good.” She laughs along with him. “That’s really really good!” she laughs harder and he does so too. And they stand there, laughing their eyes out, as a flash goes off in their direction. Now, that’s a picture I’ll hang up in the living room.

“This is it, huh?” she giggles.

“You betcha,” his hand cradles the back of her head. “The real thing, the whole shebang.”

His warm fingers press against the smooth skin of her neck, propelling her forward. Her lips travel half the way to his, hovering there for a second. She savors this victory and she already knows how it’ll taste: sweet.

He holds her close to him, his lips pressing against hers softly. It’s an innocent kiss, a loving kiss. He makes sure to thrust every ounce of loving he has stored in him into this one kiss, channeling all the missed opportunities and all the passion he feels for her in this one lock of lips.  

So, when the man asks her again, so many years later: “Do you take this man to be your wedded husband?” Carrie nods. Then, she winks at his groom: “It takes two to tango.”

[bookstattoosandtea]

Double Audio Blitz

Making Rules & Rules to Ignore (Davey’s Rules Series, Book 6 & 7) By Susan Hawke

Narrated by Michael Dean

Making Rules (Davey’s Rules Series, Book 6)

Length: 1 hour and 49 minutes Narrated by Michael Dean

Publisher: Grape Ape Productions Themes/Tropes: M/M Romance, Daddy/boy, Contemporary Audio Release Date: March 11

Davey’s Rule #53: Daddy shouldn’t be afraid to let his boy top.

Before Davey came to work at Daddy’s Lap and began that crazy list of rules, his future bestie, Sammy, was already living happily ever after with his own Daddy-dom. From the moment they met over a gas pump to the day they were legally able to wed, leather Daddy Raphael Robustelli adored his linebacker-sized boy. This is their love story, as seen through a series of six short vignettes. Witness the moment they met, see the first time Davey came to the club, and so much more. This is a short 20k volume, filled with emotion and backstory for the entire series.

NOTE: This is not a full-length book and does not contain a new couple. This can be read as a standalone but will be most enjoyed by those who have read the series.

This is the sixth book in a series about not-so-perfect Daddies, adorable “boys,” and one sassy brat with an insane list of rules. Grab your fan and tissues because this series comes with both a high heat advisory and all the squishy feels you’d want from a Susan Hawke book.

Universal Link

Goodreads | BookBub

🌟🌟🌟🌟 4.5 stars 🔥🔥🔥 Heat Level: 3.5 🎧🎧🎧🎧 Narration: 4.75

Heartbreakingly Beautiful!

I knew it would make me cry! Raf and Sammy’s relationship was just beautiful and I loved getting to go back and seeing where it all began and how their love grows and evolved. It was a lovely read and made even more emotional because we knew Raf is no longer with us. Reading this book was like looking back on a photo album of the best parts of the life a loved one you’d lost. It was sweet, a little sexy, and heartwarming to read the highlights of their life. It ends with love but also so much sadness as we know there were no more pages in Raf’s story. I loved Raf and Sammy and while I know Sammy has a new love on the horizon, Raf was is first Daddy and holds a very special place in his (and my) heart!

Thanks for reading! For great stories, reviews and more please visit http://blog.bookstattoosandtea.com 📚!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Making Rules for Books, Tattoos and Tea

From Sammy’s POV, this is the first time he met his bestie, Davey. 

*****

As always, I was proud when I walked into Daddy’s Lap. Raphael had asked me to help come up with name suggestions for a Daddy club that would be welcoming for boys as well, and I’d suggested this one. When Raphael had asked why, my response had been “what could possibly be more welcoming than Daddy’s Lap?” Daddy Raph had pulled me onto his lap and kissed me soundly before saying that my suggestion was perfect.

Just like the name, the club was warm and welcoming. As I made my way to the bar, I waved at some of the regulars I recognized. Daddy was wiping down the counter and talking to a cute guy.

I didn’t feel bad for noticing he was cute because I was allowed to find other men attractive as long as I told Daddy about it later. That was one of our private rules. He would do the same in turn because it was only fair. Then we’d laugh and kiss each other and say that no cute guy would ever be worth ruining what we had together.

Daddy shot me a knowing wink when he saw me ogling the stranger. “Hey, baby boy! Get over here and give me sugar.” I had no problem obliging and leaned over the bar to give him a kiss before taking a seat on a stool one over from the cute dude. Daddy Raph motioned to him as he introduced us. “Baby, this is Davey. He’s interviewing for the open bartending position.”

I frowned in confusion. “We still have an open position? I thought you filled it the other day.”

Daddy shook his head. “I thought I did too. Until the sucker didn’t bother showing up today for his first shift. I put the position up online, and Davey called me within the hour. That’s why I’m interviewing him here at the bar instead of in my office. Someone has to work the bar today. I had a few other guys lined up for interviews, but I have to say that I’m feeling pretty good about this guy.” He grinned at Davey, then rested a hand on my arm. “Davey, meet my precious boy, Sammy. He’s the co-owner, even if he prefers to be a silent partner.”

When Davey turned to stretch out a hand with a friendly smile, his eyes went wide as he zeroed in on my biceps. I was tempted to flex it, thinking he was admiring my guns, but he spoke too soon. “Damn, that is an amazing tattoo. The striation the artist got on that spider’s back is amazing. Cool 3D effect too.”

I looked at him like he was crazy. “Tattoo? I don’t have any tattoos. I hate pain too much to willingly go near a needle, let alone choose a freaky spi–” I glanced down at the arm he was still staring at and let out a higher-pitched scream than I knew I was capable of making. Seriously, my voice reached a note that even Mariah Carey couldn’t hit on her best day.

I nearly fell off the stool as I scrambled to my feet and waved my arm to make the evil spider fall. “Get it off me! Make it die! Hurry, before it bites me and turns me into Spider-Man or something. Oh my God, I’m going to die! Get it off me! Daddy! Help!”

I was still freaking out when I felt a firm hand settle on my shoulder and a napkin brush against my arm. Davey winked and cupped his other hand over the napkin. “Excuse me a moment, princess. I’m just going to step outside and release this baby back into the wild. He doesn’t deserve a death sentence for having the good taste to try and cuddle up next to a hot guy with muscles. Can’t blame a girl for trying, right?” He held his cupped hands away from his body as he turned to Daddy. “I’ll be right back, Raphael.”

Daddy nodded and motioned for me to come closer while he answered, “Take your time, Davey. I appreciate you giving my boy a hand with his spider situation.”

Rules to Ignore (Davey’s Rules Series, Book 7)

Length: 7 hours and 24 minutes Narrated by Michael Dean

Publisher: Grape Ape Productions Themes/Tropes: M/M Romance, Diva Daddy/boy, Size Difference, Self-discovery, Contemporary Audio Release Date: March 18

Davey’s Revised Rule #1: A good Daddy will love his boy with all his heart.

Davey Hendrickson doesn’t mind being forever single when he’s got his bestie at his side. It’s not that he wants to be single. He’s spent most of his adult life searching for his own perfect Daddy. Even if he’s not naturally submissive, someone that fabulous is obviously meant to be a boy… right? Over the years, he’s dated every type of Daddy imaginable but not one of them could come close to meeting the requirements from his ridiculous list of rules.

After losing his husband, Sammy Robustelli has learned to be strong while raising two children on his own. No matter what life has thrown his way, nothing seems too hard with his best friend and roomie Davey at his side. When the two friends learn that people believe they’re a couple, they can’t help but laugh. The very idea is a big joke… until it isn’t.

It only takes a few wake-up calls before Davey wonders what happens if a guy might be in love with the best friend he can never have. It could never work for a pair of boys in need of a bossy top, right? Except… maybe Davey doesn’t know himself—or Sammy—as well as he thinks.

This is the final book in a series about not-so-perfect Daddies, adorable “boys,” and one sassy brat with an insane list of rules. Grab your fan and tissues because this series comes with both a high heat advisory and all the squishy feels you’d want from a Susan Hawke book.

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🌟🌟🌟🌟 4.5 stars 🔥🔥🔥 Heat Level: 4 🎧🎧🎧🎧 Narration: 4.5

Oh, Diva Daddy!

I loved Davey and Sammy both separately and together they are a beautiful best-friends-to-lovers-to-Daddy/Boy story. I enjoyed the conclusion of the series and while I picked up on the hints very early on in the series Davey’s Diva Daddy transformation was so good. He’s a very unique character and while I was surprised that he had certain Daddy/Boy presumptions that seemed up like him, his eye-opening moments were fantastic.

I loved that Sammy got another chance at love and I loved that they both talked about Raf and acknowledge his presence. I loved Sammy and his submissive side was handled wonderfully by Davey and while it took a while for them to find their way together and their way to a Diva Daddy and Princess/Boy dynamic they find their way and it’s beautiful.

I loved the series and look forward to more in this world soon!

Thanks for reading! For great stories, reviews and more please visit http://blog.bookstattoosandtea.com 📚!

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Excerpt From Rules to Ignore

Davey keeps being told he’s more Daddy than the boy he’s always assumed himself to be. In this snippet, he’s looking for people to agree that the idea is ludicrous. First his “baby stepdaddy” and then his friend Adam, but neither give him the reaction he expected.

*****

Cameron asked about Sammy and the kids, which had me spilling the beans about how the people at the school had thought we were a couple. And how Preston had dared suggest that I, of all people, might not be a boy. “…And to make matters worse, my own chef at the club mistook me for a Daddy, too. Tell me, Cammy-Cam… how weird is that?” I didn’t know why I was dwelling on this so much, but I hadn’t been able to get it out of my mind over the past couple weeks.

He studied me for a bit before shrugging. “I don’t think it’s weird at all.” He hesitated for a moment. “Since we’ve always been honest with each other, I’m going to say this. Have you thought about what Preston said? Maybe try to consider that you’ve never found a Daddy of your own because you’re not really a boy?”

I sputtered, glad I didn’t have a drink in my mouth when I heard that. “For real? You too? I feel like nobody really knows me and that makes me sad.”

Cameron hummed softly, moving his head from side to side. “Or maybe we know you better than you know yourself?” When I gasped at that, Cam held his hand out and started naming off Daddy traits, ticking them off one finger at a time, just like Preston had.

I couldn’t get mad at baby stepdaddy, not when he was so adorably earnest. “Think about it, Davey. You’re protective. When you see something needs to be done, you handle it. I’ve seen you do a lot of kind things behind the scenes and not even take credit. You’re right there to offer help when you find someone in need. I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point.”

“Pshaw, doll. That’s just called being a decent human. For one thing, I’m too small to be a Daddy. And for another, I’m way too fabulous.”

Cam snickered, waving his hands as if he couldn’t handle it. “Davey, you can’t call yourself small when you’re like six feet tall. The problem is that you’re drawn to bigger guys. If you preferred twinks like me, you’d probably have an easier time seeing what everyone else does. Or do you just gravitate toward big guys because you think they’re more Daddylicious and automatically ignore smaller ones that you assume are natural boys? If that’s the case, you need to pay better attention to your clientele.”

Huh? I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Cam bumped his shoulder against mine. “I mean it, Davey. Think about it, you’re taller than a lot of the Daddies at the club. Sure, you’re still smaller than one or two of the boys—especially the ones like your friend Sammy—but that doesn’t have to be a problem unless you make it one. Size has nothing to do with being a Daddy, from what I’ve seen. Does it make Sammy less of a boy?”

Cheese and crackers, he had a good point and I didn’t know how to respond. We talked a little longer before I left. Thankfully, that was with a bag full of leftovers. I thought about breaking out the lemon bars while I drove but ended up calling my buddy Adam instead.

As soon as he answered, I had the presence of mind to ask about his new foster daughter before I started babbling about my own drama. After I filled him in on this whole Daddy ridiculousness, Adam didn’t react like I would’ve expected.

When he was silent, I double-checked the light on the Bluetooth. “Hello? Say something, doofus. Can you believe all that crap?”

Adam sighed. He did it softly, but I didn’t miss the soft release of breath. “Honestly? Yes. I totally can. I’ve never wanted to bring it up with you, but I agree with Preston and Cameron. Davey, babe… I truly don’t think you’ll ever find the Daddy you’re looking for because you aren’t naturally submissive.”

My mind was blown, so I blew it off with a joke. “Bottom said what? I don’t know, but I guarantee it wasn’t anything like ‘give it to Daddy harder, boy.’” I snorted, shaking my head at finding myself in the same crazy conversation with yet another person. Seriously, does nobody know me at all? “Adam, you’ve known me forever. Can you really see me turning into a dominant top anytime soon?”

Adam chuckled softly. “I guess you’ve never heard of topping from the bottom, huh? Because that I could totally imagine you doing. Seriously, what does topping have to do with anything?”

I was so stunned that I nearly missed the freeway entrance. “Wait… are you saying what I think you are? There are boys who actually top?”

Adam laughed even harder. “Typical Davey. You get an idea in your head and never look for other options. Of course there are boys who are tops. Your favorite sexual position or preference has nothing to do with whether or not you’re a dominant type. Or even a submissive, for that matter.”

Thankfully my phone beeped right then with an incoming call. “Adam, let me put you on hold. I have another call coming in.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I have to go anyway; Mickey will be waking up from her nap soon. Think about what I said, okay? We’ll talk again soon.” I smiled as I pushed the button, thinking about Adam being a father now. I really need to drop by with a gift for the baby girl. And definitely something with Mickey Mouse on it.

Check Out the rest of Davey’s Rules Series HERE!

About Susan:

As an avid reader and big romance fan myself, I love sharing the stories of the different people who live in my imagination. My stories are filled with humor, a few tears, and the underlying message to not give up hope, even in the darkest of times, because life can change on a dime when you least expect it. This theme comes from a lifetime of lessons learned on my own hard journey through the pains of poverty, the loss of more loved ones than I’d care to count, and the struggles of living through chronic illnesses. Life can be hard, but it can also be good! Through it all I’ve found that love, laughter, and family can make all the difference, and that’s what I try to bring to every tale I tell.

I’m a happily married mom with one snarky teenage boy, and three grown “kids of my heart.” I’m more widely known for my mpreg writings as Susi Hawke; this new name is a departure from that. Whether written by Susan or Susi, the books are filled with that all-important love, laughter, and family I mentioned; the only difference is that this name has no male pregnancy. I look forward to sharing my stories with you, and to bringing more romance and laughter into this world that needs it so very badly.

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About Michael

Michael has well over 50 audio book titles currently available for purchase on Audible.com. He is versed in multiple styles and genres including fiction (novels and short stories) ranging from romance to science fiction to crime dramas to thrillers; business strategy books; health and wellness books; and even an occasional children’s book.

Fans of Michael’s narration are welcome to follow him on social media including Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, and SoundCloud.

If you are interested in working with Michael to produce your next audio book, you can contact him directly at voice@michaelpauley.info

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  Double Audio Blitz with Exclusive: Making Rules & Rules to Ignore by Susan Hawke Double Audio Blitz Making Rules & Rules to Ignore (Davey's Rules Series, Book 6 & 7)