#and thank you to my friend who wrote the bars on pearl's shirt
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#splatoon#my art#thank you to the kind people who donated background characters to this post#and thank you to my friend who wrote the bars on pearl's shirt
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If you are still taking meet ugly prompts, sternclay 22 nsfw???
Here you go!
22: you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship.
Note: I interpreted "first date" loosely. Slight content warning for mentions of blackmail, including blackmailing someone into a relationship.
It’s hard to tell where the sting of gin on his tongue ends and the sharpness of the pines through the window begins. The combination would invigorate him were it not for the conversation playing out at the other end of the short bar.
“...Last time, I’m not leaving.” The bartender, a mountain of a man who Joseph would love to climb, has been dealing with a persistent suitor for the better part of an hour. They’re the only people in the place; ski season is far behind them and summer isn’t here yet.
“C’mon, you’ve got no reason to hang around.”
“Yeah, actually, I do.” The bartender finishes cleaning glasses, turns to put them up.
“Don’t you fucking turn your back on me! I’m not through with you, oughta drag you outta here by your hair you cheap, dull-”
The next word is an unkind name for men who, like Joseph, prefer men in their beds. The bartender doesn’t respond, though his hands tighten around the glasses. Damn it, the world did not go for a second war just for him to let everyday evil slide by.
“That’s enough.” Joseph stands, moving to where the other patron wobbles on his stool, “him being uninterested doesn’t give you the right to abuse him.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.”
“I know that if you don’t leave, I’ll escort you out.”
The man throws up his hands, spits at Joseph’s feet before stumbling and stomping for the door, “Three years, Barclay, you’re throwing away three years in one night, and you’re gonna regret it. I’ll make sure you do!”
“Don’t think you will.” Barclay mumbles as the door slams. He’s twisting his dishrag to the point it’s ripping.
“Three years? Good lord, I thought he was just a run-of-the-mill drunk.”
“Nope. If you can call him tracking me down every few months a relationship.”
“I’m sorry.” Joseph pulls out his handkerchief, kneeling to clean up the spit, “still, I apologize for getting in the middle of a, um, lovers quarrel.”
“Please don’t, I’m glad you stepped in. Don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t.” His brown eyes study Joseph more closely, “have I seen you here before?”
“Through there.” He indicates the pass-through to the kitchen, “I come here as often as I can since the food can’t be beat.”
“Thanks.” Barclay smiles, starts wiping the counter, “yeah, Dani usually tends bar after the kitchen closes but her wife is down with the flu. Only seemed fair to let her take time to look after her.”
A big heart to go with a big frame? Joseph’s in big trouble.
“You, uh, you up here for the lakes or…” He’s now directly across from Joseph, sliding a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.
“I’m a private detective, a one man operation as of 1949; Kepler’s the optimal spot for me, since it’s between the mountain towns and the eastern edge of the city. That’s a lot of people who might need help. Not to mention lots of the residents closer to the lakes are wealthy, the kind where they’re always looking for someone to trail a straying spouse or track down the pearls their no-good layabout son sold for dope.” He lets a little bit of scorn enter his voice in hopes of letting Barclay know he doesn’t always agree with his clients, but that a man has to make a living.
Barclay rolls his shoulders, then leans forward, “any fun cases so far?”
Joseph pulls off his jacket as he thinks; if Barclay’s really interested, they might be here awhile.
---------------------------------------------------
He’s an early riser, so the banging on the door to his house (and office) interrupts his breakfast and not his rest. Joseph opens it and then fights to keep it that way.
“Detective Hayes. This is a surprise.” He smiles.
“I’m not here to catch up, Stern. I’m here so you can answer one, simple question: where were you between eleven-thirty and midnight last night?”
“In the dining room at Amnesty Lodge, talking with the bartender. If you need to verify that, just go to the Lodge and ask for Barclay.”
Hayes glowers in a way he recognizes as, “this won’t be an easy case like I assumed” and turns without a word. Two officers follow him. The third, Dewey, hesitates. He’d always been a pal. Joseph shoots him a confused look.
“Guy got shot in the woods near the Lodge last night. His only known contact in town was the bartender, and everyone else we questioned said the two had been arguing for a few days. Hayes thought the cook was a shoo-in to book but, well, his alibi aligns with what you said. Plus, some ranger Owens talked to said he saw Barclay talking to someone in the dining room at the time of the murder. Guess he was walking by the window on his way to-”
“Dewey! Get the hell over here!”
As his informant scurries up the hill to join the others, Joseph steps back inside to finish his toast. He only gets through one piece before the phone rings, summoning him to the managers office at Amnesty Lodge.
Madeline “Mama” Cobb sits behind her desk, whittling with the kind of force that suggests she’s doing this in place of putting her knife to another use.
“Barclay tells me you’re a detective.”
“That’s right, Miss. Cobb.”
“Great. I’m hirin’ you to find out who the hell killed his useless ex and is tryin to frame him for it.”
He sits down, intrigued, “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”
“I ain’t inclined to trust ‘em. Barclay can’t think of someone who’d set him up, and the police don’t think he was. Yet. But I happen to know there were scraps of a shirt Barclay owns on the trees nearby and that the fella who died had this on him.”
She holds a crumpled paper out. He unfolds it, reads, “Come to the old mill at a quarter until midnight. B.” He looks up, “meant to stand for Barclay, one would assume?”
“Yep. Whoever wrote that did a decent job forgin it.”
“How can you be sure it’s fake?”
“Because I got plenty of documents where Barclay describes a time. He just uses numbers, not words like ‘quarter until.”
“Did you suspect a set-up before you lifted this from the body so the cops wouldn’t find it?” Joseph tucks the note into his inside pocket.
“Course I did. You’re new in town, but there ain’t a person here who’d say Barclay is anythin but gentle. He ain’t about to shoot someone in cold blood, even that fucker.” She sighs, takes off her hat and runs a hand through greying hair, “that boy is as good as a brother to me. I know he’s been through some rough shit. He don’t deserve to get caught up in some goddamn murder scheme. So name your price, Mr. Stern; so long as it keeps him outta trouble, I’ll pay it.”
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He’s elbow-deep in Barclay’s dresser when the cook returns from his shift; he gave Joseph permission to search his room for signs of whoever took his shirt, but still, the other man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.
“I’m sorry, but I have to be thorough. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”
“S’fine.” Barclay slumps down on the bed. After a moment he murmurs, “I know Mama hired you, but is there anyway I can convince you to quit? She, the Lodge doesn’t have much cash to spare this time of year. I don’t want anyone going without on my account and, and maybe this will all blow over if I just lie low, y’know?”
“It might. But until I think that’s the outcome, I’m inclined to agree with Miss. Cobb that we should work to keep you clear of this. And” he watches Barclay stand, moving to the window so he won’t have to see Joseph rifling through his life, “I promise that if it comes down to getting paid or bankrupting the Lodge, I’ll stop taking my fee. This is a good place and, um, it clearly means a lot to you. That makes it worth some belt-tightening on my end.”
“Thanks.” Barclay stares into the woods, then looks over his shoulder, “Joseph, I-”
It’s only because the mirror is above the dresser that he sees the black barrel peek from the trees. With no time to yell, he dives forward, pulling Barclay to the floor as the first bullet makes shards of the window.
“What the fuck?!” Barclay covers his head as another shot flies over them
“I think we just confirmed Miss. Cobb’s theory!” He pops up, fires once, and drops back down. Whoever’s in the trees isn’t expecting someone armed, so in place of another bullet they get breaking branches.
Joseph gives chase, leaping out the window and sprinting into the trees. Were they in downtown L.A, hell, even if he was still in Chicago, he’d have a better chance of staying on his target. But there’s no paths, no short-cuts, and every tree looks the same at this speed, cloaking the shape in the distance. Worst of all, he discovers that instead of dead-ending at a brick wall, he dead ends at a rockface.
Oh, and his hand is bleeding. He must have cut himself jumping out the window.
It looks like his investigation just took on a bodyguard element, and his wish to spend more time with Barclay could end with them both looking like swiss cheese.
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“You could talk to Duck.” Barclay finishes bandaging the slash on the back of Joseph’s left hand, “he works in the state park near here and knows a ton about the layout of the woods. There, not too tight?” He sits back on his heels as Joseph tests the tightness of the bandage.
“It’s great, big guy. Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”
“I don’t mind it” he winks, “pretty boy.”
His visit with Duck the next day, while informative, doesn’t give him much insight into how their assailant disappeared, especially when Duck points out that the rock face he ran across is over a mile long and hard to climb without equipment or a death wish. At least the ranger outfits him with a map with written-in details; most are about trails that are likely to be muddy (and thus hold prints) or spots where a person might be able to hide. And some hike recommendations, just because.
He tries not to think about taking Barclay on the one to a secluded lake and fucking him under the stars.
His schedule alternates between sitting in his office taking and making calls, shadowing Barclay when he’s out on errands or otherwise vulnerable (he’s spent more than a few nights on the floor of his room, that velvety baritone talking to him until they both fall asleep), and scouring the woods for clues.
A jay heckles a squirrel, which surrenders it’s pinecone and scrambles along the rocks. He’s wishing he could be so nimble when it climbs up and then...disappears. Following it, he discovers what he dismissed as endless rock is an optical illusion; the rocks above and behind align with the ones in front and below to make it seem as if it’s a flat face. But when he climbs over the bottom rock, he finds a narrow slot canyon. One big enough for a human.
Fifteen minutes of granite scratching his back later, he’s at the other side of the rocks. Smoke curls up his nose, and he trails the scent to a cabin which, according to Duck, is on a strange pocket of private property, just up a frontage road. Stranger still is the sign out front.
I.C All
Tarot, Palm Reading, and Other Psychic Services.
He knocks as wind chimes sing lazily around him.
“Come in!”
The first room is divided by a curtain, the half he’s in a rather eclectic waiting room. The dining room and kitchen are probably on the other side of the pink and yellow cloth.
Waiting for him in the next room is a man with a distinctly beatnik air about him, from his red glasses down to his brightly colored shawl and shoulder length hair. Laid out before him is a tarot deck, crystal ball, and several black candles. But that’s not what concerns Joseph.
“Before I sit down, can you ask your friend hiding in the bureau to come out?”
“Fuck” the beaura hisses, “uh, I mean, uh, there ain’t, uh, fuck-”
“It’s alright dearest, I suspect we may all benefit from this.” He gestures for Joseph to sit, “Apologies, but my hope was you were either a client I could turn away or one in search of a brief reading that I could perform before returning to more...pleasurable activities.” He grins as none other than Duck Newton steps from the creaky wooden bureau, looking like he’s been wrestling a very amorous tiger.
“Afternoon, Joe.” Duck sits on the nearby couch, “didn’t take you for the fortune tellin’ type.”
“I’m more interested in whether Mr…”
“Cold, but my friends call me Indrid.”
“Whether Indrid has noticed anyone coming and going on his property without permission?”
“I can’t say that I have, though it’s hard to do so; the walkway is guarded by Beacon, our dog, and everything but the walk up to the cabin is fenced off or, well, a massive wall of rock.”
“...Come with me.”
Soon, Duck is studying the slot canyon while Indrid worries his lower lip.
“I had no idea this was here.”
“No one did. It ain’t on any of the maps, and I never heard of anyone findin it on accident.” Duck pulls back, popping his hat on as he turns to Joseph, “this got somethin to do with Barclay?”
“I think whoever shot at us used this to get away. For all we know, the person who killed Mr. Douglas did the same.”
“To think, I encouraged Barclay to come here even more often once he told me his predicament; I thought no one could approach us without me seeing them coming. No, no this will not do at all” he shakes his head, “he needs to go see her.”
“You know he won’t, sugar.”
“He must. It’s the safest place for him. And the last anyone will look.”
Joseph looks between them, but before he can ask Indrid simply says, “You should ask Barclay about the Greenbank House. That story isn’t ours to tell.”
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“Home sweet home.” Barclay grumbles as he and Joseph step out of the car and into the shadow of a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood in Lakeshore. It took all of his friends telling him he should go--and Joseph assuring him it’s location meant it wouldn’t look like he was trying to run away from the scene of the murder--for the cook to agree to a stay at his family home.
“What are you afraid of?” Joseph keeps his tone gentle as they climb the front steps. His friend had simply said he had unhappy memories of the house and would rather live in a mausoleum then stay there.
“It’s more dread. You’ll see when we get inside.” He knocks on the front door. It’s opened by the least congruous face imaginable; a man with greying hair and a groundskeepers clothes. When he sees Barclay, a smile bursts across his face.
“Barclay! How are you kiddo?”
“I’m...I’m okay. It’s good to see you Thacker.” He offers a genuine smile as he opens his arms and gathers the older man into a hug. When they separate, Joseph offers his hand and introduces himself. Having an extra guest delights Thacker, and he ushers them in with a promise that he’ll have rooms ready to go in a jiff.
“How’s Maddie doin’?”
“She’s good, and she’ll still slug your arm for that nickname.”
“Good old Maddie.” Thackers cheer falters, “do you wanna go see your ma? If I didn’t know you were comin, gonna guess she didn’t neither.”
“Yeah. Yeah I should go see her. Joseph, you don’t, uh, you don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s only polite to meet my hostess.”
Barclay leads him up a flight of stairs, then down a hallway where dust substitutes for walllpaper. Waiting for them in a red and orange toned bedroom is a woman with greying, black hair and a face not unlike Barclay’s.
“Dear heart” she rises from her armchair, drawing her son to her, “you came back.”
“Just to visit, Ma. Uh, this, this is Joseph. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too.”
She studies him with a critical eye; Joseph thought Hayes had a judgemental gaze, but she could beat him any day.
“Hmm. The more the merrier, as she always said. How long will you stay?”
“A few weeks.”
She nods, regards the photo of another woman above the mantelpiece as if seeking council, “You’re not here for pleasure.”
“No.” Barclay rubs his arm, “I...I got into some trouble. Andrew Douglas was shot the night I broke things off with him. The cops are leaving me alone for now but someone else wants me dead.”
The woman’s face suggests she both recognizes and despises that name, “We will keep you safe.”
With that, she sits once more and picks up her book. Barclay hesitates, then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling Joseph from the room.
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“How long ago did your mother die?” Joseph kicks his legs up onto the ottoman. Barclay alluded to her passing previously, but never gave details.
“When I was eighteen. Car accident. She went off the Kepler bridge. They, uh, they never found her, and just found part of the wreck.”
He intends to leave it there; they’re on the back porch overlooking the garden (“Thackers pride and joy”), early summer dusk on their skin and their arms occasionally brushing from the edges of their chairs. No need to kill the mood further. He just wanted some kind of context for the house and the widow within it.
“Ma never recovered. She loved mom so much that losing her was like losing a lung; she can get through her days, even enjoy them, but it will always be hard. She tried to keep mom around however she could; the whole goddamn house is the same as it was the day she died, even my room. She wanted me to stay too, but Mama offered me the job and I just...I couldn’t live in a haunted house anymore.”
Joseph tips his hand to the right, extending his fingers into the space between them. Barclay takes it and holds tight.
“I’m so sorry, Barclay. You had every right to leave, to make your own life.”
“I know.” He runs his thumb across Joseph’s knuckles, “okay, pretty boy, my turn for a tough question; why’d you really leave the police force.”
It’s not that tough a question, not when he knows the man he’s confiding in won’t go running to Hayes, “I joined the force because I wanted to solve mysteries and help people. But it turned out there was a lot less seeking justice and a lot more chasing off drunks who just needed a place to sleep off benches and harassing certain neighborhoods. Then I worked out that the chief was taking bribes from all kinds of places and was naive enough to think someone might listen to me and help me when I told them. Instead they threw me off the force. In hindsight, it could have been worse; they could have killed me and covered it up.”
“Jesus.” Barclay polishes off his drink, contemplates the ice, “glad they didn’t. Both because, y’know, world is better with you alive, but, uh, also because if they had we’d never have met.”
Joseph meets his eyes, smiling in a way that makes the other man blush, “that would’ve been a damn shame.”
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This is turning into one of the stranger cases he’s worked, in good ways and bad. The good is that his work days, when he’s not on the phone or digging through his notes, are spent with Barclay. His friend insists on cooking, has even brought him lunch at his desk, and usually the two of them have dinner with Thacker in the garden. They read or play chess in the study, take walks through the labyrinthine grounds, and even swim in the open air pool. Barclay in his swim trunks is a fine sight indeed. Joseph wonders if he ever brought boyfriends here, ever kissed them in the blue water or let them have their way with him in some hidden patch of lawn.
But it’s not all roses and revelry. The more he roots around in Andrew Douglas’s past, and in Barclay’s, the more questions he has. Why did Andrew come and go? What happened to large portions of Raquel and Sylvia (Barclay’s parents) fortune? And who wants to kill someone with no criminal record, no known enemies, and no heirs? If it’s the same person who murdered Andrew, killing Barclay would remove their fall-guy, so that makes no sense as a move.
His best lead comes when he learns Barclay’s family and Andrew Douglas lived in San Francisco at the same time. A friend in the city agrees to do some sniffing around there for any information that might point towards their killer. Two days later, he calls back and says he’s sending Joseph a “fucking brick” of evidence in the mail.
It’s been several days and he’s still waiting. He dozed off in his room after dinner, intending to cat nap, but it seems he’s overshot; it’s after ten. At least the mail must have come by now.
“Barclay? Did anything come--you have five goddamn seconds to explain yourself.”
His friend stammers from his seat on the bed, surrounded by papers, photo’s, newsprint, and a manila envelope with Joseph’s name on it.
“I, uh, I, it isn’t-”
“This is all evidence collected for the purpose of protecting you, so if you have something you’re afraid of me finding you’d better start talking now.” He snaps, looming over the other man from the edge of the bed.
Wordlessly, Barclay hands him a piece of newspaper. It details a kidnapping, one that ends--happily--with the victim being returned to their family. Four names are mentioned, but none of the perpetrators are the man in front of him.
“I was sixteen. A stupid kid. I had this perfect life and I got a little stir crazy, a little bored, and fell in with some other rich kids who felt the same. It started out harmless. Then James, the guy in charge, decided we should dream bigger. I was so, so fucking in love with him, I didn’t try to stop him. Not right away, anyway. I...I was their look-out for that kidnapping. But I couldn’t let them keep it up.”
“You struck a deal.”
Barclay nods, “Best part is, I managed to do it without either of my parents getting wise. We moved here soon after. I thought I could put it behind me.”
Joseph takes a closer look at the paper. The byline for the article is one A. Douglas.
“He blackmailed you.”
“Not at first. He, he” Barclay takes a shaky breath, “he went to mom first. Asked her how much she’d pay to keep my name out of the papers. James had told him about me and he was going to spread the story. That’s why she was on that fucking bridge in the middle of a fucking storm; she was meeting him.”
“Oh, Barclay.” Evidence crumples under his knees as he sits to comfort his friend.
“Then he came to me; now not only was I paying to keep the story quiet, I was paying to keep him from telling Ma why Mom died.”
“She died because of a blackmailer, wet cement, and a weak guard rail. Not because of you.”
Barclay looks at him, eyes coffee cups of sorrow, and simply shakes his head. Then he crumples forward and Joseph catches him, holds him tight while he finishes his story through his tears.
He paid off Andrew for three years. Ned Chicane, owner of the Kepler Museum of Curiosities, helped him with the family accounts so Raquel wouldn’t notice anything suspicious. Whenever Andrew came around, he demanded Barclay act as his “boyfriend” for the duration of the visit.
“Everyone must think I have terrible taste in men.”
Once they establish that, as far as Barclay is aware, only Ned knows about the blackmail, Joseph cups his face and says, as firmly as gentleness allows, “From now on, I need you to be truthful with me. You said you didn’t want me putting the pieces together because you were ashamed, but all I want is to help you. I can’t do that if there are big things you’re hiding from me. Understand?”
Barclay nods, and apologizes the entire time they’re gathering the strewn pieces back into the envelope.
“Barclay?” Joseph cuts him off and eases him down until he’s on his back, “I forgive you. Now please go to sleep before you pass out from stress.”
The cook smiles at him, eyes already fluttering closed, “You’re the boss, Joseph.”
He ignores all the urges that kickstarts in him and leaves his friend to sleep in peace.
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“Y’know, kind of wish we’d known each other back then.” Barclay looks up from where he’s helping Joseph sort the new evidence on the floor, “when I was in San Francisco, I mean.”
“It would have taken more than just a change of scene for me; my family does alright, but I’d have been way outside your circles.”
“So? Maybe then I coulda had a boyfriend who was ‘disreputable’ for bullshit reasons instead of real ones.”
“I’ve never once been disreputable.” He looks up from the photos in his hand, “and is that your way of telling me something, big guy.”
“Yes. I, uh, you can tell me to knock it off, but I, uh, I think you’re swell. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way but you said I should be…” he trails off as Joseph leans into his space,”honest.”
He kisses him once, so brief it barely counts but the larger man whimpers and tries to grab him before he pulls away.
“If we’re going to do this, I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me to hit the brakes if you need to; it won’t change my dedication to the case.”
“I promise.” There’s no dishonesty in his face, just boundless hope and affection.
“In that case, big guy” he lunges forward, pinning him to the rug, “you’re all mine.”
An unexpectedly high whine leaves his lover.
“You like when I’m rough?”
“Uh, uh huh, so much, people always want me to be and I don’t want to, wanna be, wanna beAHHHhhnnn” he arches his back as Joseph bites the patch of skin just below his beard.
“You’re so gentle, big guy, I thought you’d go straight to making love but” another bite, another gasp, “I think I’d better fuck you instead.”
“Please.” Barclays hands glide up to cup Joseph’s face and guide him down into another kiss.
Joseph rolls his hips forward and his sleeves up as speaks, “Now that you mention it, I can see how things would’ve gone if we met earlier. I was an obedient son but not beyond sneaking someone into my room when my parents were away” he undoes Barclay’s shirt, keeps grinding against him and licking his lips as he feels him getting hard, “or maybe we met down here, and you’d sneak me into the backyard.”
“Fuck, yes.” Barclays chest heaves as Joseph cards his fingers up through the dark hair to tease his nipples, “god, if how I, fuck, feel now is a clue, I’d have been so fucking mad for you.” He makes a charming groan as Joseph tongues his nippls and then nibbles his way up to his ear.
“It’s funny” Joseph kisses his cheek, “I knew so many guys like you on the force. Not you now, used to hard work and worry, but you then; spoiled and softer than a boiled egg.” He allows himself a moment of savoring their cocks teasing each other through their pants before continuing, “always wanted to discipline them, because it was clear no one ever did.”
“Please show me how.”
“Why?” He grins down at him, toying with his left nipple until it’s bright red.
“Because I wanna be good for you, Joseph. Wanna be every fantasy you ever had.”
“...Lord god almighty how am I supposed to say no to that?” Joseph undoes his suspenders, laughing at Barclay’s triumphant smile, “you’re a dream, big guy.”
He crawls so he’s straddling Barclays face, cock dripping pre-cum onto his lips. Barclays tongue keeps peeking out from between them, but doesn’t go further without permission.
“Since this is disciplinary, you don’t get a say in how it goes. You’ll take my cock as long and as deep as I want it, because I’m superior to you and you’re here to do what I say”
“Fuckyeah” Barclay paws Joseph’s thighs, opens his mouth so he can guide the head in.
“That, ohyes, that being said, if it’s really too much, tap my thigh twice.”
Barclay nods to show he understands, but is already pre-occupied sucking his cock like he’s starving for it.
“A good start, big guy, but if I just wanted my cock wet I’d have gone swimming.” He cups the back of Barclays head in both hands, “I want something to fuck, and your face is it.”
The man beneath him moans, fucks the air uselessly as Joseph pushes further in. He finds the resistance of his throat with a half-inch to go, and decides that’s good enough. He pulls halfway out, pushes back in, repeats the process a few times before finding his rhythm. Weeks of wanting mean it’s hurried and greedy, but the resulting moans suggest Barclay approves.
“You look so good like this, Barclay. God, if you’d been some fresh-faced officer, one look of those doe-eyes is all it, shit, would’ve taken for me to make this the only discipline you ever got. Any time I needed to put you in your place or just, fuck, just needed to let off some steam, I’d do this, get my, my cock in your mouth so often you’d run out of spit and be thankful for my cum in, in it’s place.”
Barclay is groping him again, eyes bright and lips managing some upward curve as his cock forces them apart.
“Then again” he tenderly massages Barclay’s scalp, “there’s no reason I can’t do that in this universe. Oh, ohshit, Barclay-” his words desert him as he cums, the other man swallowing eagerly and sucking him clean before he pulls out.
Joseph glances over his shoulder, “Can I take care of that for you?”
“Fuck, please?”
He rolls off of the cook, stays on his side and slips one arm under his shoulders. Then he sets his palm on the monstrous bulge in Barclay’s jeans and sets to work.
“I, I should unzip-”
“No” he kisses him, “we’re surrounded by evidence that I can’t have you cumming on. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up the mess you make cumming in your pants like a teenager.”
“Promise?” It’s an odd thing to say, but Joseph thinks he understands.
“I promise.” He quickens his pace, Barclay’s grunts growing louder when he does, “I’ll take care of you, big guy. I’ll look after you. You don’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.”
“Joseph.” Is all the reply he gets, Barclay already turning as cum spreads across his fly and clinging to the detective. His breath is hot, stays shaky even as his cock stops pulsing.
“Barclay? Baby, are you alright?”
“So fucking good, babe. I, I uh” he holds him tighter, “this is the first thing to make sense to me in years. Loving you, having you in my life, I get how we fit together so easily. Everything else, the murder, Ma, this person lurking around the last place that feels like home waiting to hurt me or hurt Mama or someone there, all of it, it’s so goddamn tangled I’m worried it’ll never get straight.”
Joseph rests their cheeks together, “We’ll figure it out, big guy. I promise.”
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A Little Love
A/N: here she isss!!! this is the piece that i wrote for the Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge that was set up by the amazing @andwhenshesays @for-fucks-sake-h and @oh-honey-styles (thank you for organizing all of this!! you’re all legends!!)
extra big thank you to lydia @youresogolden-h and brailey @daydreamsofh for being such sweet beta readers <3
this is my first ever attempt at writing fic, so i hope you enjoy it!
****CONTENT WARNING**** alcohol consumption
Harry is your best friend and your coworker, but you see him as more. Maybe you both just want a little love.
word count: ~8K
**April 25, 2020, 11:15am**
It’s a comfortable spring day in San Francisco. The windows are cracked, letting in sweet smelling fresh air and the moderate bustle of people out and about. Despite the perfect weather to be out at the market or taking a walk in the park, you’re currently at your neighbor’s apartment, slouched on the couch in the living room and in the midst of a New Girl marathon. Or rather, you are in the midst of a New Girl marathon, but your friend has not looked up from the guitar he is restringing for the past fifteen minutes.
You’ve been stealing glances at Harry from the other end of the couch. He has the guitar laying across his lap. He’s able to take all of the strings off and put three new ones on without a problem, but something about the fourth string seems to be giving him a lot of trouble. Every time he gets the string wound up on the tuning key, it snaps loose, like it can’t hold the tension. After several attempts with the same result, Harry sets his string winder on the coffee table and lets out a frustrated huff while scratching his forehead.
Although you know it’s probably best to not make a comment while he’s annoyed, you decide to make one anyway.
Just as he grabs the winder from the coffee table and goes in for another attempt at the string, you blurt out, “I thought the whole point of watching Netflix at your house instead of mine was so you could work and watch at the same time.”
Harry rolls his eyes and slowly cranes his head to look in your direction, “I am watching.”
“Right, so tell me what Miranda has been up to,” you challenge.
Harry lowers his head in concentration, making another attempt at winding up the string on the tuning key, “She’s like… going on a date or something.”
“Miranda isn’t even a character in the show!”
The tuning key once again snaps loose. Harry’s nostrils flare and he mutters a quick “Fucks sake.”
A moment passes where the only sound in the room is the TV. You’re trying to gauge whether or not you’ve actually pissed him off a bit. You decide to bite your tongue and see what he is going to say next.
Harry finally shifts his eyes from the guitar to you, “Obviously I can’t work and watch at the same time.”
You give him a pointed look, “You think?”
“I promise I can finish this project pretty quick, and then I’ll watch, like, four episodes, uninterrupted. I just need to go get some parts so… would you mind pausing it?”
Once the show is paused, Harry gets up from his spot on the couch, gently sets the guitar on the floor, and turns to exit the living room. However, he is stopped short since your legs are making a barricade between the couch and the coffee table. With a mischievous grin on his face, he uses his shin to slowly push your legs away from him so that your feet slide off the end of the table and onto the floor. Your jaw drops in exaggerated offense. Giggles erupt from both of you as he narrowly avoids your attempts to trip him while he steps over your legs and then jogs across the room to his workspace.
A huge benefit of living a couple of buildings away from your best friend is that any given day of the week can be spent like this. The both of you can always be found at either one of your apartments watching hours of Netflix, working on projects, or sharing meals.
Just as you were enjoying the moment of silence that fell onto the room, your phone and Harry’s phone buzz on the coffee table. With a quiet groan, you slowly sit up from the couch to see a text from your boss, sent in a group chat with yourself and Harry.
Would either of you be able to work the closing shift tonight? Sarah called in sick and the rest of the shift leads can’t work today.
Although you and Harry were both looking forward to having a Saturday off, you knew the bar was a little short-staffed this weekend, so you both kind of saw this coming.
“Is that who I think it is?” Harry asks.
“Yeah, Adam’s asking one of us to work the closing shift tonight. Sarah called in sick and I guess Charlotte can’t work today.”
Harry groans as he makes his way back to his previous spot on the couch and plops down with a screwdriver and a plastic bag containing what looks to be a new set of tuning keys in hand.
Harry takes a moment to look around his living room, taking in all of the instrument cases stacked around the small apartment, scratching his jaw in thought. “I mean, I would take it, but I’ve got a lot of projects that have to get done this weekend.”
“I guess that just leaves me then,” you say flatly, sinking further into the couch and staring straight ahead out of the window across the room.
“‘M’ sorry,” Harry says with a light chuckle at your dramatics, “I’ll owe you one.” His offer comes out more like a question.
You look back in his direction to see him with a wide, dimpled grin staring back at you. You know he’s just trying to make you feel better, and it works.
After sending a quick text to your boss letting him know you would be there tonight, you sit up straight and grab the remote from the coffee table. “That’s a really tempting offer. I’ve got a lot of sick days saved up, you know?”
“Heyyyy,” Harry draws out in a playfully offended tone.
You chuckle before asking, “Can we just finish this episode so I can go home and get some rest before work?”
“Yeah I think we can do that.” He sets the screwdriver and plastic bag on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, folding his hands together to rest on his stomach.
You press play on the remote and settle into another day with your best friend.
**April 26, 2020. 1:47am**
About ten minutes until the bar closes, and there are still three large, lively groups hanging around. You and your coworkers have done as many pre-closing tasks as you possibly could, aside from taking the drink glasses straight out of the customers’ hands. Now it just seems to be the longest waiting game ever until you’re officially allowed to kick everyone out.
While you’re all busying yourselves with wiping down counters and straightening chairs, the front door swings open.
Just as you’re about to put on your best customer service face that you can muster, you see a familiar blue and white plaid jacket and fluffy brown curls. Harry is strolling in, surveying the crowd of customers as he’s making his way to where you’re standing at the bar. You see that he is donning a form-fitting grey t-shirt with a bright yellow smiley face on it, light brown high-waisted pants, and a delicate looking pearl necklace. He always seems to be able to effortlessly look put together, even when he is making bold choices.
You look at him with raised eyebrows and ask with exaggerated charm, “Come here often?”
“Oh god.” He laughs at your ill attempt at comedy through a pained expression.
“What are you doing here?”
He shrugs, “Same as always.”
Harry has made it a routine to walk home with you when you’re working the closing shift. Even when you insist that there’s no need for him to stay up so late when he’s not working.
He glances around before looking back at you, “Is there anything I can help with right now?”
You shake your head. “Just waiting for them to leave so we can clean everything.”
“Bollocks,” he mutters before puckering his lips.
You decide to go around the corner of the bar to the prep area where the music controls are. Hopefully the customers will take the hint that it’s time to leave once you lower the volume.
After a few minutes, all of the staff are breathing a collective sigh of relief when one group makes their way to the door and the other two groups shortly follow suit.
By the time you follow the crowd out and you lock the door, it’s 2:05 a.m. Considering how busy it was tonight, you’re counting this as a small victory.
Harry and your other coworkers are going around cleaning up glasses and bottles and taking them back to the sink while you make your way to the register to start your shift lead duties.
Once the tips are divided, you take a look around and see that your coworkers are steadily making their way through the cleaning checklist. With Harry’s help, things are moving along pretty quickly. You pull the first bundle of cash out of the drawer and start counting.
After getting the cash drawer sorted out, and counting out a new one for Monday, you hear your coworker saying your name. “I think we’ve done everything on the cleaning checklist. Is there anything else you need help with?”
“Actually, all I have left to do is inventory. I’m not gonna hold you hostage for that, so you guys are free to head out if you want to.”
Your coworkers are saying goodnight and clocking out shortly after. Once they're gone, you’re left with the faint buzzing of the refrigerators and the light music over the speakers. You turn around to face the shelves of bottles and notice a few that are running low and need replacing. You go down the ‘employees only’ hallway to the back stockroom and grab all the bottles you need. Hugging them to your chest, you make your way back down the hallway. You walk about halfway when a figure jumps out of the supply closet to your right, causing you to jump backwards and let out a scream.
Harry’s howling laughter echoes through the hallway as you try to catch your breath and will your heart to stop racing.
You finally regain some composure and turn to fully face Harry. His laughter has reduced to occasional soft chuckles falling past his pursed lips. If your arms weren’t full, you would most likely be smacking him for scaring the shit out of you.
“What the hell were you thinking?” You do your best to give him death glare, but your voice is now shaking with laughter as well. “You’re lucky I didn’t drop any of this stuff, you idiot.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry but you should have seen your face. Holy shit.” He opens his arms and slowly steps toward you to bring you in for a hug.
“Well if you’re so sorry, put these on the shelf for me.” You say as you thrust the bottles into his chest, making him grunt out a laugh.
You walk to the front with Harry trailing behind you. All you have left to do is make a few notes for Adam before finally clocking out. You’ve never been more excited for your head to hit the pillow when you get home.
As you’re making your notes, Harry is pacing about behind you, straightening out all of the bottles on the shelves. He lets out a long observant hum.
“What?”
“Just noticed this guy’s almost empty,” he holds up a bottle of tequila and swirls around what little liquor is left in it. One corner of his mouth turns up before he looks at you, “Enough left for two more shots, probably.”
“Is that so?”
“Y’ wanna find out?”
“I don’t know,” you say as you tilt your head up and tap your chin in thought “I don’t know how I feel about taking shots with people who jump out of supply closets to scare me.”
“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that.” He’s exaggerating and drawing all of his words out as he walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you so that his hands are resting on your left shoulder and he rests the side of his head on the back of yours. “I’m sorry. Please take a shot with me.”
Although it's pointless since he can’t see your face, you roll your eyes in response, “Fine. Pour me one.”
His hand gives your shoulder a light squeeze before he moves away and reaches under the counter then puts two shot glasses onto the bar. He reaches behind him for the nearly empty bottle and pours the perfect amount into each glass. Taking them both in his hands, he extends one to you.
You don’t miss the chuckle that he lets out as you take the glass from him. After giving him a questioning look, you notice a slight blush on his face.
“What’s so funny?”
“Was just thinking. This,” he gestures to the two of you and the glasses you’re both holding “reminds me of the day you got into the art institute.”
Around this time a year ago, you had spent weeks pouring over your application for the San Francisco Art Institute and months after that waiting to hear anything back. When you got the acceptance email toward the end of your shift at work, Harry was the first person that you told. Just over a year ago, you were standing with Harry behind this same bar when you told him the good news. Your chest filled with warmth at his reaction. He wrapped you in a nearly suffocating hug as he loudly declared, “I told you you had a kick ass portfolio! So fuckin proud of you.”
Right after he released you from the hug, he poured each of you a shot. Harry then made the impromptu decision of doing a bar crawl after you both got off, deeming the two shots “not enough celebration”.
After a night full of slightly over the top celebrating, you were practically dragging Harry home. It wasn’t until you got to his apartment building that he realized he had left his keys and wallet at one of the bars. Not wanting to drag him back across town, you ended up bringing him back to your apartment just around the corner.
It took a lot of coaxing, but you were able to get him to drink a big glass of water before helping him brush his teeth with your spare toothbrush.
You have a lot of vague and fuzzy memories from that night, but there are two that remain crystal clear. One is the moment when you were clumsily leading him to your couch and he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Wish I could kiss you.” And the other is the way your stomach dropped and your heart nearly fluttered out of control at his drunken confession.
The conversations about that night always turned into jokes about you being able to handle your liquor better than he could. His comment was never brought up by either of you. You weren’t sure if he would even remember it, or if either of you really wanted to.
“Yeah,” you chuckled, “we should never be allowed to celebrate anything after that. We were miserable the next day.”
You lock eyes with him and for a split second there’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize. Like a different kind of softness that you hadn’t seen before this moment.
It’s fleeting, however, because he glances down at your hands and clinks your glasses together. You tilt your heads back at the same time, feeling the burn in your throats and letting out sharp exhales once it’s passed.
Harry takes your glass from your hand and silently goes to the prep area. You hear the sink running as you finish up your notes to your boss and you clock out.
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah I just need to get my-” you stop mid-sentence when you turn around to see Harry already holding out your bag that had been hanging up in the prep area. You mutter a ‘never mind’ as you take it from him.
Harry grabs his jacket from the pool table and you stroll to the front door together, turning off lights as you go.
You finally step out into the chilly nighttime air. The only noises are coming from the small scattered groups of people gathering in front of the bars on the block that are just closing.
After locking the doors, you and Harry start trudging along the sidewalk up the steep hill. If you had known that it was going to get so much colder and windier during the night, you would have brought a jacket with you. You fold your arms and grit your teeth as another cold breeze hits you from the front.
You don’t even notice Harry taking off his jacket until he’s holding it in front of your face. You pause your walking for a moment to gently take it from his hand.
“Aren’t you gonna be cold?”
“Well I’m not gonna watch you shiver all the way home.”
You frown a bit as you look at the jacket in your hands. You can still feel the warmth from Harry’s body heat on the hand that’s grasping the inside of it. Having that little bit of warmth already makes you feel better, but you hate to think that he’s going to be the one gritting his teeth against the cold.
He says your name through a chuckle and you look up to meet his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Just put the jacket on and let’s get you home, yeah?”
**April 26th, 2020. 5:30am**
It should be considered a crime to be wide awake at this hour, considering the small amount of sleep you’ve gotten. The only thing you had the energy to do when you got home last night was change out of your work clothes and fall into bed. You remember glancing at your clock and reading 3:15 a.m. before your eyelids grew heavy and closed.
The reminder of Harry’s drunk confession that you thought was water under the bridge is now flooding your mind as you desperately try to fall back to sleep. You try to push down the memory of his giggles as you made the strenuous effort of finding the switch on your living room lamp while having nearly all of his body weight leaned against you for support. You try to push down the memory of his flushed cheeks in the glowing yellow light when you finally got him settled on your couch. You try to push down the memory of running your fingers through his soft curls and giving his hairline a soft kiss before going to bed. You try to think of literally anything else.
It isn’t until the very first hints of daylight enter your room that you decide to give up.
The floor is cold on your feet as you walk to your bathroom, rubbing your tired eyes.
After a quick shower and putting on your favorite t-shirt and jeans, you feel less sluggish. You focus on going through your kitchen pantry to find something for your growling stomach.
Although you wish that you were still sleeping soundly in your bed, you think of how rare it is to get to see this city both at the dead of night and when it’s slowly starting to wake up. To be able to greet the light in your living room as it dances across the pictures on your walls and you mill about with your bowl of cereal.
The pictures lined up on your walls remind you of the project that you started last week that you need new photos for. You go to your closet and get the bag that holds your digital camera. Your mind is buzzing at the thought of taking it to the park before it gets too crowded.
You put on a jacket and shoes, pull your camera bag over your shoulder, and head out into the chilly Sunday morning.
********************
You round the corner of your block and start making your way down the steep hill, admiring the multicolored houses across the street that are glowing softly in the morning light. A smile spreads across your face as you reach into your bag for your camera and your fisheye lens. Once you’ve captured a few shots that you’re happy with, you move on toward the park.
You’re coming up on Harry’s building, and you instinctively glance up at the second story bay window that you know belongs to his apartment. Because this side of his building is still in the shade at this point in the day, you can see that his light is on.
“What’s he doing up?” you think to yourself. He’s always been an early riser, but considering how late you both stayed up, you would hope that he had been able to get some extra sleep.
As soon as the thought crosses your mind, Harry appears in the window. His blinds are wide open, so you can clearly see him stepping up to his record player and delicately placing the needle on the vinyl. A toothbrush hangs out of his mouth.
What your eyes are more drawn to, however, is his choice of clothing, or lack thereof. He’s standing in front of his window in nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of underwear. You knew the t-shirt too well as the one he found at a thrift store years ago and became obsessed with after reading the ‘Treat People With Kindness’ logo on the front. He steps back from the record player and tilts his head back to brush his teeth. You watch as his jaw flexes and is accentuated by the light scruff of facial hair along it.
It’s becoming alarmingly clear to you that you are alone in the middle of the sidewalk, about thirty feet away from your best friend’s window, ogling him as he’s minding his own business. As much as your palms are sweating and your stomach is doing somersaults at the prospect of being spotted, you cannot bring yourself to continue walking. You wouldn’t mind becoming a permanent part of the sidewalk if it meant having this kind of view.
Harry turns and walks away from the window. You finally snap out of your daze and hurry past his window, thankful for the help of the downhill slope to move you along. Once you get to the corner of the block, you stop and lean your back against the building. Lightly smacking your forehead, you mutter out loud to yourself, “What the hell was that?”
********************
The trip to the park turned out to be a perfect way to spend the morning. You ended up taking a lot of pictures of murals and flowers before the park started to get too busy.
With your favorite album playing through your headphones, your mind is now buzzing with the excitement of having new photos to edit.
Once you cross the street, you’re now standing on the corner of your block. One way would lead you once again past the window to Harry’s apartment. The other way would help you avoid another potentially awkward sighting, but was much longer and usually includes lines for overcrowded restaurants.
Keeping your head down, you continue walking straight ahead in the same direction that you came from.
As you’re hiking up the hill, you suddenly hear a voice that you know is not coming through your headphones. You turn your volume down and listen to your surroundings. Plain as day, someone behind you shouts your name. You rip your headphones out and whip around to see Harry waving at you from his window.
“Hey! You wanna come up for breakfast?”
Your feet are firmly planted to the sidewalk, much like they were about an hour ago when you stood in the same spot and ogled this man.
You opened your mouth, not knowing what to say, and pathetically jabbed your thumb in the general direction of your apartment. “Actually I… I-I was gonna-”
“I’ve got coffee from Trieste,” he says in a sing-song tone.
You internally roll your eyes and curse him for knowing that you can never deny coffee from your favorite place in town. Plus, wracking your brain for a good excuse to be on your way is becoming difficult due to the hunger pains starting up in your stomach. That bowl of cereal is only holding you over for so long.
You look up at his dimpled face and relax your shoulders, “Okay, yeah. Yeah I’ll come up.”
“I’ll unlock the door for you!” is the last thing you hear before he shuts his window and you make your way to the stairs.
You climb up to the second story and turn down his hallway. When you’re standing in front of his door, you can hear music playing.
You open the door and you’re met with the sounds of trumpets. Harry has Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” playing on his record player. He has it just loud enough to where it won’t annoy any of his neighbors, but it still fills every corner of the living room. It’s not the first time you’ve walked into a similar scene here. You know this to be one of his favorite songs to play in the morning.
You close the door behind you and take in the state of the room as you walk through. The instrument cases are a little more organized than they had been yesterday. Smaller ones are stacked up next to his workstation and the larger ones are stacked up in the corner next to his couch. His laptop sits open on the coffee table and a haphazard stack of blank paper repair tags sat next to it.
The camera bag on your shoulder is now starting to feel heavy, so you plop down on the couch. Your ears perk up at the sound of Harry singing along with the record from the kitchen.
“You can have an aeroplane flyin’. If you bring your blue sky back.”
Following the smell of coffee, you walk over to the doorway of the small kitchen. Harry is standing at the counter. Thankfully he is not wearing the outfit that you saw him in earlier. He’s wearing brown trousers and a cream colored flannel with black and green stripes. He also has on his signature pair of scuffed up black vans.
There is a small table and two chairs in the corner of the kitchen next to the window with a vase of sunflowers and a couple of books sitting on it. You walk over to the table to inspect the books more closely. Art as Therapy by Alain de Botton & John Armstrong and The Course of Love, also by Alain de Botton. Before you get the chance to flip them over and read the descriptions, Harry clears his throat.
“Coffee’s ready.” He sets the kettle down on the counter and dances his way over to the cupboard where he keeps his mugs.
You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face, admiring his ability to always be so energetic in the mornings.
He takes the filter out of the chemex and chunks it in the trash before pouring the coffee into two mugs. The way he turns with a mug in each hand, extending one to you, is extremely reminiscent of last night. After you take the mug from his hands, he scoots past you into the living room. The volume of the music lowers to a faint background noise before he appears again in the kitchen.
“So,” he pauses to reach into the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and setting it on the counter, “what are you doing up so early? Figured you’d be in bed till noon. Seemed pretty exhausted last night.” He takes a long sip of coffee, waiting for your response.
Suddenly you’re doing everything to not look in his direction. Your eyes are shifting from the table to the flowers to the mug in your hands.
“Um… yeah I woke up at like 5:30 for some reason and couldn’t go back to sleep. So I just decided to take a walk with my camera.” Your last few words echo from your mug before you take a big sip.
Harry clicks his tongue. “M’ sorry, that sucks. Did you at least see anything interesting?”
You involuntarily gasp at his question, causing the coffee to go directly down the wrong pipe. Several harsh coughs erupt from your chest.
Harry acts quickly, muttering a quick “shit” before taking the cup from your hand and setting it on the table along with his. He steps behind you and you hear a chair scoot out from the table. His hands gently wrap around your upper arms, prompting you to have a seat. You fold over in the chair, gripping the edge of the table for stability. After a few more strong coughs, you’re finally able to catch your breath.
Harry’s fingertips rubbing soothing circles on your back sends electricity up and down your spine.
His hand slides off of your back as he steps away from you, “Alright? Want some water?” He’s already walking over to his cabinet and pulling out a glass before you respond.
Once you clear your throat, you croak out, “Yeah I’m fine, that’s fine.”
He sets the glass on the table in front of you, turns back to the carton of eggs on the counter and starts cracking some into a pan.
After taking some sips of your water, you say, “So I was going to ask you the same question. What are you doing up so early?”
“Well, funny enough, I also had to wake up around 5:30. I’ve got a client coming to pick up her trumpet this morning and I had to get everything sorted and clean up a bit before she got here.”
Nodding your head, you tease, “Oh yeah, it looks really good in there. Was starting to forget what your floor looked like.”
Your heart leaps at the sound of Harry’s belly laugh. “Wow. Wowwwwww. Already giving me a hard time. At this hour. Jesus.”
You laugh at his exaggerated reaction while he simply shakes his head.
There’s a knock at the front door. Harry reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Must be her, actually. I’ll be right back.”
“Do you want me to do those?” You stand up from your spot at the table and gesture to the pan.
“Sure, that’d be great, thanks,” he says over his shoulder when he exits the kitchen.
A moment later, you hear the sound of a woman’s voice greeting Harry. It sounds like they’re just standing in his entryway because you can’t really make out what either of them are saying.
Meanwhile, you go about scrambling eggs, making toast, and getting out plates and silverware. By the time Harry is back in the kitchen, you’re already starting to put everything on the table.
You pick up the books from the table and hold them up to Harry, “Where do you want these?”
“Oh uh, I’ll just put those on the coffee table.” When you hand them off to him, he holds up the copy of Art as Therapy. “This one’s for you though, make sure you take it with you today.”
You tilt your head in question.
“Just thought it looked like something you would enjoy. Saw it when I was looking for this other one.” He holds up The Course of Love.
Before you could say anything, he’s disappeared again into the living room.
Once you’re both sitting at the table and digging into your breakfast, Harry asks, “What are you doing tonight?”
You squint your eyes at him. “I mean, I don’t really have anything planned. Why do you ask?”
“Well that client that was just here offered me two free tickets to her jazz band’s show tonight as, like, an extra ‘thank you’.” He shrugs, “Might be fun to go to.”
With a straight face, you reply, “I can’t, I’m booked tonight.”
You stare at each other for a minute in silence trying not to crack a smile, until you both start snorting.
“I know you’re free because the bar is closed and Sarah is still sick.” Harry tosses his fork on his plate and leans back in his chair like he’s just won an argument.
You mirror him by crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “What if I have plans with Mitch? Sarah’s boyfriend?”
Harry furrows his brows and looks at you, baffled, “I know who Mitch is, why’d you have to say it like that?”
“Because I knew it would throw you off.”
“Alright, I’ll just take Mitch to the concert then.”
You drop your jaw and lightly kick his leg under the table. “What time is this concert?” You ask, slipping out of your teasing tone.
“It’s at seven.” Harry leans forward and lifts his coffee from the table, holding it up to you.
You grab yours from the table and clink it with his before finishing off the remainder of your coffee.
***********************
Back at your apartment, you’re leaning back in your chair at the desk in your living room, waiting for your pictures from today to upload on your computer. Your hands run over the smooth blue and green cover of Art as Therapy. In the few years that you have known Harry, you’ve swapped countless book recommendations back and forth, and the bookshelves in your apartments are constantly changing due to all of the borrowing you both do. You’ve even gotten each other books for birthdays and other holidays. This is the first book that he has bought for you completely unprompted. You hadn’t even heard of the author until today, so it’s not like he heard you mention in passing wanting to read his books.
You flip the book over and read the description, then flip to the first few pages to see a statement about the authors. “Their proposal is that certain great works of art offer clues on managing the tensions and confusions of everyday life and that, approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.”
Quickly shaking yourself out of your own thoughts, you check the progress on your photos. Approximately 20 minutes remaining.
You huff, slap the book closed, and toss it on the desk before getting up and walking to your room. There’s an old shoe box on one of your shelves that you like to go through when you’re feeling sad or having a weird day, which feels about right at this moment.
You plop down on your bed and set the box in front of you, opening up the lid. The rush of nostalgia and warmth that comes over you when going through this box is overwhelming sometimes. It’s filled with miscellaneous photos that you’ve taken on your film camera over the past few years. There are some that capture your favorite buildings and murals throughout the city. There are a lot from when you went to the pride celebrations last year. The majority of the pictures in the box capture candid moments of your friends and family. These kinds of pictures are the ones that remind you of why you love photography so much and even after getting high marks on your work for the institute, these are the ones that you end up feeling the most proud of.
You see your friends from out of state standing in front of the Golden Gate Bridge from the time they paid you a surprise visit. Another one shows your cousin at his college graduation. There’s one of your friend and coworker, Sarah, and her boyfriend Mitch from the day you and Harry helped them move into their new apartment, proudly holding up the keys, smiling from ear to ear.
And then there’s quite a lot of Harry. Harry playing pool at a bar across town, Harry at the beach tossing a football with Mitch, a kind of blurry one of him going crazy at an Ariana Grande concert. You laugh out loud when you find the one of him proudly wearing your dress during a drunken game of truth or dare, and the one of him making a ‘kissy’ face at you in those obnoxious Gucci sunglasses that he wore for pretty much an entire summer. Sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve experienced together until you go back and look at these pictures.
You’ve been flipping through them pretty quickly, but you come across one that makes you freeze. It’s from your friend’s birthday party a few months ago. You got someone to take a picture of yourself with Sarah and Mitch, but Harry decided to jump in. In the picture, Mitch is in the middle of you and Sarah, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, and Harry has his arms hugged tight around your middle and his cheek is pressed to yours. It could be seen as a form of affection, if his face wasn’t covered in icing from your friend’s birthday cake. The photo is perfectly timed to capture everyone’s shocked laughter.
Just by looking at this photo again, you can feel his smile against your cheek and his arms holding you close. It’s a feeling you’ve been wanting more of ever since that night. Maybe that’s the ‘intimate question’ you’ve been asking yourself- Do you really want more with Harry?
**April 26th, 2020. 6:58pm**
You’re sure nobody on the street could miss you and Harry. After saying quick ‘thank you’s to the uber driver, you grab hands and start jogging toward the entrance of the SFJAZZ Center- a three story building with windows wrapping all the way around. The show is supposed to start in two minutes. You would have arrived much earlier if Harry hadn’t left the tickets on his kitchen table. You’re both dodging and weaving through people on the sidewalk, you in your favorite floral dress and Harry in a bold green suit jacket.
Once in the lobby, you both reduce your pace to a brisk walk and you readjust the bag on your shoulder. Harry’s hand is still holding yours as you’re both scanning the lobby for the right place to go. You spot a couple of employees closing doors labeled ‘main hall seating’.
“Over here,” you say, pulling Harry along with you.
Luckily, you’re able to catch the ushers in time to show them your tickets and be let in. The expansive auditorium is filled with the sound of chattering people and musicians warming up their instruments.
Thankfully, your seats are in a row toward the back and to the left of the stage, so you don’t have to make too big of a scene when scooting past people. Right when you settle in, the house lights dim, the chatter rapidly dies down, and the band on the stage goes silent.
The lull is soon replaced with applause when a woman walks out and stands center stage. She introduces herself as the director of programming and welcomes the audience. “Thank you all for being here tonight. Your support means so much to this center as we continue to make music and art and do what we love to do.” She pauses to hold up a booklet in her hands. “As you may have seen in your program, tonight’s performance is a special one.”
For the first time, you glance around the room and notice almost everyone but you and Harry has a program in their lap or held in their hands.
The woman on stage continues. “Some of you may know this, and some of you may not, but April is the birth month of American jazz singer, Billie Holiday. So, to honor her legacy, this lovely band sitting behind me has put together arrangements of some of her greatest hits.” Applause fills the room once again.
“Some of the performances tonight will feature vocalists and some will be done with the band only, so I hope everyone will find something they enjoy. Now, without further ado, I present to you A Little Love, with Billie Holiday.”
There is applause for a third time, but your hands are suddenly too heavy in your lap to join in. As the director exits the stage and another woman, presumably the vocalist, takes her place, your mind is reeling at the situation you’re currently in. How have you wound up at a jazz concert dedicated to love, that you decided to attend on a whim, with your best friend that you suddenly have overwhelming feelings for?
All of the subtle signs and notions of feelings you have had over the years have turned into blaring alarms, and they’re all pointing to one person. The man sitting right next to you, who is also sitting stock still in his seat.
There’s a drumroll from the stage followed by a light and smooth saxophone solo that brings you back into the moment. The vocalist begins the captivating first verse of Billie Holiday’s You Go to My Head.
You go to my head
And you linger like a haunting refrain
And I find you spinning round in my brain
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne
You slowly sink about three inches down into your seat. You wish you had a program now so that you could at least use it to fan your face. You reach your hand up to dab at your forehead.
At the same time Harry takes a deep breath and lightly trills his lips while itching the bridge of his nose.
The vocalist continues to sing the lyrics that are hitting you directly in the gut.
The thrill of the thought
That you might give a thought to my plea
Casts a spell over me
Still I say to myself “Get a hold of yourself”
Can’t you see that it never can be
You glance around the auditorium as much as you can without turning your head in Harry’s direction, wondering if anyone else is feeling the temperature rise or the tension that seems to be wrapped around the both of you.
You go to my head
With a smile that makes my temperature rise
Like a summer with a thousand Julys
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes
Though I’m certain that this heart of mine
Hasn’t the ghost of a chance in this crazy romance
You go to my head
Your mind is reeling yet again at the situation you’re in. This must be some kind of elaborate prank that the universe is pulling on you. You’re half expecting a spotlight to fall on you and Harry that nobody in the room would even question.
The feeling doesn’t lift as the concert goes on. Soulful songs about a lover’s eyes, falling in love, how easy it is to live when you’re in love. Even where there is not a vocalist, you seem to know what the songs are implying.
Something that comes up in your rapid stream of thoughts is the author’s note you read earlier, “approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.” You ask yourself the question again: Do you want more with Harry?
You think about the pictures of the times you’ve spent together. Crazy shifts at the bar, days in the park, breakfasts, dinners, late nights staying up talking about god knows what. You know the answer. You’ve always known the answer.
It seems like your heart has caught up with your thoughts, because it’s pounding in your chest.
Halfway through the final song of the night, you decide to steal a glance at Harry. Slowly turning your head, you peek through the corner of your eye.
A quick jolt of electricity runs through your entire body when you see that Harry already has his eyes on you. You turn your head back to the stage, but you can still feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head.
When thunderous applause breaks out after the final song, Harry turns his head back to the stage as you both limply clap along with the audience.
******************
This is the most quiet car ride of your life. There isn’t even any music being played in the background. The only words that have been exchanged between you and Harry since the concert ended were when he asked you if it was okay for the uber to just drop you both at your building and you answered with a simple ‘sure’.
There are so many feelings swirling around in you that you don’t know what to do with, and you definitely don’t want all of them to spill out in this stranger’s car, so you keep your jaw clenched as you look out of the window.
The car comes to a stop outside of your building and you both mutter ‘thank you’s as you climb out. You both silently make your way through the lobby, up the stairs, and down the hallway to your door.
Just last night you were making the same trip. You were making light jokes about wanting to steal Harry’s jacket and he was joking back, accusing you of wanting him to freeze to death. You had to remind each other not to laugh so loud so you wouldn’t disturb anyone. Now the only sound in the hallway is your shoes on the floor.
Once you reach your door, you open your bag and start digging for your keys. “Thanks, um, thanks for inviting me. It was a really good show.” You find your keys and push them into the lock before turning your eyes to Harry.
He has one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… Yeah it was... it was fun. Glad you could come with me.” He moves his hands from their places and awkwardly moves his arms out for a hug.
You smile and let out a sharp exhale through your nose at the awkwardness of this whole situation, but you gladly reciprocate the hug. Your arms completely wrap around each other, your hands tightly gripping his jacket. You can smell his cologne, like ginger and honey and cedar, and it’s making your head spin. You embrace for a few seconds and then release each other.
Harry sighs, “Alright, I’ll see you later then.”
“Okay, see you later.”
Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and slowly takes a few steps to turn away.
You turn the key in the lock, then turn your head to watch Harry take his first few steps away from you. You don’t want him to get any further.
“Harry?”
He stops and turns around to face you. “Yeah?”
You cannot believe the question that’s coming to your mind, but it’s the only thing that’s been coherent enough to put into words. You gulp and take a deep breath before asking, “Do you… do you still wish you could kiss me?”
You watch about three different emotions pass across Harry’s face. His mouth opens, his head tilts to the side, then his mouth closes and his eyes shift to the floor.
You feel a flood of regret. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. That was stupid. He doesn’t remember. Just play it off.
You know your face is flushed with embarrassment as you speak softly, “I’m sorry. I just. That night that you were really drunk and I brought you back here, you said that you wish- that you wished y-”
Hearing Harry say your name stops your rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I know what I said.” He’s eyeing you cautiously and taking a couple of steps toward you again. “And… yeah. I still wish I could kiss you. Felt that way for… a while now.”
Tears are brimming your eyes as you look into his, trying to absorb what he’s just said. Then it’s almost like the floor beneath you tilts in his direction, nudging you to move forward until you’re standing directly in front of him. You can smell his cologne again.
With your eyes still locked into his, you slowly raise your hands to place them on the back of his neck, thumbs stroking the corners of his jaw.
After taking a shaky breath, you whisper, “I wish I could kiss you, too.”
Harry gulps and shifts his eyes down to your lips. He takes a deep breath through his nose before you feel his hand lightly grip your waist and his other hand takes a similar position on your neck.
You both stand there for a few breaths, eyes roaming over each other’s faces.
You start to lean in and then stop about half way and close your eyes. You’re both just waiting to see who will close the gap.
After a moment, you feel Harry’s grip on your neck and waist tighten and you feel him leaning in. Then his lips are on yours. They’re on yours again and again. You tilt your heads to deepen the kisses and he takes a step toward you. You follow his lead until your back is pressed against your door.
As much as it pains you to do so, you have to stop so you can catch your breath. You reach one of your hands into his hair and lightly pull him away. Both of you are breathing in sync.
Once your breathing is evened out, you lock eyes with Harry. Your heart flutters when you exchange shy but knowing smiles and his thumb gently strokes your cheek.
After clearing your throat, you move your hand to your door knob. “Do you want to come in?”
Harry glances at your hand then returns his eyes to yours. He purses his lips and takes a sharp breath in. “I just want to know what you want.”
What just happened a few seconds ago already seems monumental to you. After the emotional roller coaster of this day, you’re not sure whether or not you’re ready for more tonight.
You take your hand from the doorknob and run it along his shoulder to return it to its previous position on his neck. “Honestly, I’m so fucking exhausted from today.” You watch as Harry nods his head in understanding. “I think all I want tonight is to hold you,” you notice the softness in his eyes, the same softness that you noticed for a fleeting second in the bar last night. “And keep kissing you.” This makes a lopsided smirk pop onto his face. “And I want to talk in the morning. About us.”
Harry leans in and presses a sweet peck to your lips. “I think we can do that.”
*******************
If anyone would have told you that your day was going to end with you and Harry in your bed, your head on his chest, and him running his fingers soothingly over your back, you wouldn’t have believed them.
“Harry?” you say softly, just as your eyelids are starting to get heavy.
His fingers stop for a moment, “Yeah?”
Thinking over the sequence of events that led you to where you are now, you start to erupt into sleepy giggles. “Did you know that the performance was gonna be,” you pause, trying to find the right word, “that?”
Harry lets out a deep belly laugh and when you glance up at him, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t have planned that if I tried.”
Before you know it, you’re both laughing uncontrollably, recounting the insane timing of the whole situation.
Harry rolls to his side so that he’s facing you and places a lingering kiss on your lips. “I’ll have to tell that client that any repairs she wants are on the house now.”
You throw your head back laughing and he pulls you into his chest, smothering your neck with kisses before resting his chin on top of your head.
If this is all you could have for the rest of your life, just a little love from each other, you would never want anything more.
************************************************************
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WHG Post Games Boat Heist Part 5
Last boat heist piece! And then just post heists and we’re done! Tagging: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Elvira and Rebecca!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Cirrus and Asher!), and @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Lynn and Rowan!)!
Triel (this is the next day)
Elvira and I met up with Nora, Chaudhary, and the rest of the assistants near a bar. I grinned at Mirabel and Sidney, since I hadn’t seen them yesterday, and we exchanged greetings. It was almost time, so we toasted each other, downed our drinks and headed for the dear president.
And he was actually where he was supposed to be! Last night must have spooked him. I grinned and walked up to him with arms wide as if I was expecting a hug. “And the dear president remembered! Thank you so much!” He eyed my assistants, and he raised his eyebrows. I laughed. “Oh, I thought I would need assistants for the interview. There are so many questions to ask, so I wanted them to write it out as well.”
Elvira stood behind me, looking Very Serious and holding a Very Convincing Clipboard. The others would fall behind and take care of the Peacekeepers.
I steered him over toward the right side of the boat, and I smiled my best smile at him. “So, let’s start with an easy one. Who was the tribute you were most cheering for in this year’s Hunger Games?”
He laughed. So fake. “Of course, I cheered for Poli. I always knew he was going to win.”
I knew you’d say that, you lying bastard. I laughed and wrote insults down on my clipboard. I could only imagine what Elvira was scrawling behind me. “I totally believe that. Now, which was the most gruesome death?”
He looked a little unnerved by the question. Good. Out of the corner of my eye, Nora and the others were working on Operation Dunk the Peacekeepers. He frowned. “I…don’t see the relevance of the question?”
I laughed. “Oh, it’s entirely relevant. I mean, you perform this charade year after year, and you celebrate all the deaths as if they don’t matter. As if that isn’t a precious life expiring right before your eyes. They’re children, my dear president, and you don’t care, do you?”
He glared at me and turned around to see all of his Peacekeepers were gone. Nora and Chaudhary waved at him as his eyes landed on them.
Elvira smiled sweetly. “Ah, President Snow? I’m afraid you won’t be able to summon your lackeys to do away with the uncomfortable questions. Not this time. Rather, we’ve done away with them. One by one. Until one remains in the spotlight.”
He glared at us, and his hand reached for his pocket, but I was faster. I activated my magic, and multi-colored light danced on my skin like fire. I transformed the small amount of water I always kept on hand into a sharp crystal and aimed it right at his heart. I smirked as he stared at it with horror in his eyes. “Not so fast, my dear president. If you try to call any back-up, they’ll find your body bleeding out on this deck, and we’ll be long gone. So, let’s play by the rules, yeah?” I laughed as he moved his hands away from his pockets, up in the air. “So, next question, all these children’s deaths are on your hands. How many people would love to see your corpse on national television?”
Sid raised a hand, and the others in the background did the same. I smirked at the dear president. “Unfortunately, I’m not in the mood to have president-cide added to the list of crimes I’ve committed. Too many people chasing me.” I nodded at the others. Nora walked over with a smirk and emptied his pockets, and Elvira sneaked around while he was glaring at Nora and pulled him by the shirt toward the rail, and I did the honors (after deactivating my magic) of giving enough upward force to send him toppling, screaming, into the water.
I smiled over at Elvira and held out a fist to fistbump. “Well, that went smoother than I expected.” Elvira reciprocated the fistbump.
I tipped my hat to Nora. “Thank you. Anything I can do to help after you so graciously helped me?”
“I think the publicity’s helped me enough, Sparrow,” she said, adjusting one of her braids before she turned to address the crowd that had gathered on the bottom deck after the dear president drank lake water. “Ladies, gentlemen, and spectators galore, today you bear witness to the turning of the tides of history. Far from the harbingers of good news and angelic messengers of old, I am here to tell you to be afraid. Be very afraid.” I had to stop myself from laughing. So serious. “I can’t promise your way of life is coming to an end, but I can assure you it will never again go unchallenged by those you’ve scorned and reviled. So clutch your precious pearls. This world is still our oyster. And when the real pirates come to tear apart your charade, you can always count on Captain Eleanor Skeates to bear a hand.”
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it. Shine was ready. I gave a thumbs up to Nora, and she nodded. Elvira was singing “What Shall We Do With a Wicked Tyrant” with the rest of the crew as they waited for their ride. Nora’s tender had been invisible before this, but it appeared on the starboard side. She gave me a look that invited me for drinks later, but before she could leave, I dashed forward and snatched at her hat, and she let me, she just casually took my hat. We put the hats on in sync with flourishes and shared a meaningful look no one else would understand. Nora and the others swung ropes over the water and got to their ship.
Elvira and I headed off to where we would meet with the others to escape to the airship. The Peacekeepers would be too busy with saving the dear president from the lake to bother with us. Elvira looked over at me with a Meaningful Look. “Nice hat.”
I smirked. “Thanks. I acquired it recently.” We shared a smile and continued to the airship.
Nesri
After Shine completed the new and improved disablers, I volunteered to go disable Lynne’s shocker, and also disable Alastair’s shocker. I kept glancing at Cirrus as we waited for the right time. Had we really kissed last night? I just flushed as I leaned against him. There were more pressing things to think about, but my thoughts kept wandering back to the kiss.
It was finally time to head out. Triel headed out first, and we all filed out after her. I made my way, casually, over to where Lynne’s room was. I knocked on her door and adopted the same stance Zenith always had. It seemed right for a pretend Peacekeeper.
She opened the door and eyed me suspiciously. “What do you want?”
I grinned. “I’m gonna help you out!” I pushed past her and put my hands on my hips.
Lynne breathed in deep and slow. “Are you here just to torment me? I know the Capitol is controlling you.”
I wagged a finger at her, still smiling. “That’s where you’re wrong, my friend! The Capitol is actually controlling you by making you believe what they want you to. I’m sorry Zenith decided to be a stick in the mud and pretend. He wanted to get you back quickly, since we weren’t prepared to bust you out yet.”
She grit her teeth and shook her head. “I—I can’t believe you. Not when you’re wearing that.”
I cracked my knuckles. “Well, that won’t be for very long.” I rushed her, but she sidestepped, her expression hardening and all vulnerability disappearing. I rushed at her again and managed to snag her arm. I held on for dear life. “I know how the Shades can be. They fuck with your head, make you think the way they want you to. But whatever they say is a lie.” She whirled around with a snarl and punched me in the stomach repeatedly. She wasn’t that practiced at it, so it wasn’t too bad, but still. “I promise. Don’t listen to them. Or the Capitol. I’m here to help.”
She hesitated, tears welling in her eyes, and I whirled around behind her, took off the bandage, and placed the New and Improved Disabler to her shocker, and it did its disabling with a satisfying fizzle.
Lynne blinked and turned to me and frowned. “You weren’t wearing that just a second ago.”
I snorted. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to wear that Peacekeeper trash anyway. Not flattering enough.” I grinned at her. “We disabled the shocker and the machine that was making you see us in Peacekeeper uniforms. Now, we just need to grab Alastair, disable the shocker he has, and head over to the rescue zone.”
She sucked in a breath, and tears streaked down her cheeks. She flung her arms around me and sobbed into my shoulder. “I was so scared. The—the Shades gave me their magic. And I’m still in pain. And I thought you were trapped and I had to find a way to save you. And I’m not as competent as I thought, so what choice did I have? And…I’m just so glad they were lying.”
I hugged her tightly with a laugh. “Me too. Let’s get going.”
*
The airship was invisible, but I could still feel the hum of the engines as we approached it. A ladder fell, looking like it was connected to nothing, and everyone was here. No one looked hurt either. I grinned at everyone as we waited in line to climb up. No one in the crowd did anything. They were too busy watching the president, and the Peacekeepers were too busy rescuing the president. We were doing great!
When I put my feet on the deck of the airship, Shine’s awesome machine allowed for me to see the airship, even though it was still invisible to anyone not touching it. Triel went to check with Shine, and the rest of us crowded into the same room we had when we escaped from the arena.
The airship took off, and everyone stayed quiet. Rebecca watched the windows, probably to check and see if anyone was following us. Elvira was looking around at everyone over and over. Lynn was hugging Rowan, and Laurel hurried over to both of them. Zenith was checking Lynne and Lynn’s wounds. Where had he even found the first aid kit? Lynne was leaning up against Alastair. Asher didn’t seem to be doing good. Cirrus was having to wrestle him down, and Amy, the Avox Cirrus had helped, was waving around a weapon she must have stolen from a Peacekeeper. Good for her!
Triel walked in with a grin. Her clothes were wet, as if it had started raining, but the sky had just been clear a second ago. She clapped her hands. “Congratulations on a successful heist! I couldn’t have done it without you!”
“We did it,” Rebecca whispered, a smile tugging at her lips. “So, we’re really getting away with it? There’s not, like, a squadron after us?”
Elvira looked over at Amy. “Ah…You must be Amy?”
She nodded eagerly, ignoring Cirrus’s request to put the weapon away. I liked her. She was awesome.
Lynn looked up. “This is real, right? You’re all really here, this is really happening?”
Rebecca nodded. “We are. You don’t still think we’re Peacekeepers, do you?”
Triel shook her head about Rebecca’s previous question about the squadron. “The winds were favoring us today. No one was able to come after us.” Asher grinned at that, looking out of it but proud about something.
Lynn shook his head about Rebecca’s other question. “No, not Peacekeepers, not a dream, real. You. The you from the Games at least.” Rowan hugged both him and Laurel.
Lynne frowned. “So, what’s going to happen now? Will we be running from the Capitol the rest of our lives?”
Triel smirked. “It just so happens that a mansion that was built specifically to evade the Capitol’s eyes was bought with some totally legal money. It’s a few hours away from most of the Districts and equipped with anti-Capitol machines. You can stay there. It’s a safe haven for us.”
Cirrus turned to face her. “How long until we can tell people we aren’t dead?”
“You can tell them now. I think it should be okay to stop by your Districts so you can talk to your loved ones. If you think you could be safe staying there, you can, or you can come to the safe haven. It’s your choice.”
“Also, we got a train,” Rebecca said. “We’re kinda on the run from the Capitol, anyway. But I’m definitely down at crashing at your mansion. You?” she asked Elvira, who nodded in agreement.
Lynn, Rowan, and Laurel shared a look before Lynn spoke. “Rowan and I will stay at the mansion, we don’t have much else, but Laurel has to visit her family first and tell them.”
Triel nodded and headed off, probably to tell Shine to stop in the Districts. I grinned at the newcomers. “But you missed something spectacular! I totally kicked Cirrus’s ass in a spar.”
“Liar.” I grinned over at Cirrus as he crossed his arms. “We have witnesses you know.”
Zenith shrugged noncommittally, eyeing me. I laughed. “Well then, what about when I hit you in the face with a piece of popcorn?”
He rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t count.”
I grinned. “Rebecca one-upped you. She caught her piece.”
“And ate it,” Rebecca added smugly.
“Maybe you should spar her too.” Cirrus was trying to sound irritated, but it was more like a joke. “I bet she’d kick your ass too.”
I pretended to think about it. “I agree. She’s much more intimidating than you.”
Asher laughed, and Cirrus huffed to himself. Ha. I won.
Rebecca punched her palm. “I forfeit immediately.”
Triel came back in, eyeing me. “And who’s the one who dumped a whole popcorn bowl on your head?”
Lynn eyed us with confusion. “Just what did you all get up to while we were there?”
“Very time-sensitive and important things,” Elvira said, face in one hand. “There were unbearable spans of killing time waiting for necessary information. It was either death by boredom, despair of your fate, or commit popcorn warfare.”
Zenith grumbled, but lightheartedly. “Too much.”
And I said at the same time, “Shenanigans, tomfoolery, etcetera.” I crossed my arms at Zenith with a smile. “Who’s the one that walked into the apartment in the middle of the night, cursed with magic, and had to beg Asher to knock you unconscious?”
“That was Zenith!” Asher laughed, throwing his head back. “Got himself cursed!”
Zenith sighed, but a smile was tugging at his lips. “Who’s the one who had me and Elvira swap bodies and then race?”
He grinned, teeth a little sharper than I thought they usually were. “Are you just mad you lost?”
Zenith grumbled something about toenails, but he didn’t decide to comment.
Triel smirked. “I’m sure we’re all looking forward to swapping stories; I just have one more bit of information to give you. Even at the mansion, we’ll still have our airship. If, at any time, you want to go somewhere, or go to the mansion from somewhere else, just let me know. Shine’s already hacked into your phones and put in a good number to reach us at for instant communication.” She winked.
Rebecca whipped out her phone and texted something, maybe to Shine? They were buddies now, after all.
We kept talking as Raian showed up with warm drinks for everyone. It was so calm and peaceful. We had finally escaped from the Capitol.
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It’s 2 am, but it’s a music tag, so I’m doing it. Thanks @5sosofficial, sleep can wait ✌😌✌
Edit: it’s 4 am, and I’m a long-winded bitch, so everything goes under the line.
Right, so, first order of business, 20 songs on shuffle:
5SOS - Talk Fast
The Band CAMINO - Berenstein
Phillip Phillips - Miles
Nao - Bad Blood
You Me @ Six - Liquid Confidence (Nothing To Lose)
Yves Tumor - Noid
Patric Fiori - Que Tu Reviennes
Bigflo & Oli - Dommage
Dido - Hunter
Anarbor - Tasty
5SOS - Empty Wallets
TOOL - Vicarious
Roseburg, Kellin Quinn - RIP
Jack’s Mannequin - Dark Blue
While She Sleeps - I’VE SEEN IT ALL
OK Go - Another Set Of Issues
Galantis - Runaway (U & I)
Zayn - BoRdErSz
While She Sleeps - GATES OF PARADISE
Julie Zenatti - Si Je M’en Sors
10 songs I’ve been listening to in no particular order:
Architects - Gone With The Wind
X Ambasadors - Unconsolable
Onlychild - Teeth
Bring Me The Horizon - Teardrops
While She Sleeps - FAKERS PLAGUE
5SOS - Thin White Lies
Architects - Animals
ASL - Voodoo
Ina Wroldsen - Sea
Normandie - Holy Water
10 albums that influenced my taste and made me a music snob (with commentary):
1. Linkin Park - Meteora
I think I’ve already talked about this, but I was in my early teens when this album came out, and I had a classmate that liked rock(ish music) so I went to the local CD shop that sold burned CDs (we won’t talk about it, 90s and 00s Macedonia was in a different century than the rest of the world) and asked for something cool and rock, and they gave me this CD. Now, like the nosy music nerd I was, I decided to play it once before I gave him the CD. Long story short, loved it so much, ended up buying him a picture frame and keeping the CD for myself. The angst in Chester’s voice and the tiny electronic twists together with the dark tunes made my teenage years (and still do) bearable.
2. Kyo - Le Chemin
I was maybe 9 when I first heard these guys on TV and fell in love with the guy in the red shirt. This was around the time I started understanding a bit of French and it certainly helped when a few years later I found a copy of this baby in our local French Institute. I’ve been listening to a lot of French music throughout the years, but nothing compares to this album. It made me understand emotions in French if that makes sense. There’s always a dark undertone to every song and I love how Ben’s able to infuse his voice with enough desperation/anguish/urgency while still talking about love.
3. Maroon 5 - Songs About Jane
Early teens again, on a vacation in Montenegro, bought it from a shop right off the beach lmao. The cover looked dope, and it was 2 euros. Mainly bought it because I loved that there was Jane in the title, a male name in Macedonian, also the name of the guy I had a crush on. When I went back to camp, he played it for me and he liked it as well (he was an employee there and a biiiiiiiit older than me). Little did I know that the syncopation, the embellishments and the raw energy Adam sang with in (only) this album was gonna make me compare every pop album to this one for years to come. This is like IT for me when it comes to pop music, even if it’s not entirely pop.
4. Six Pack - Minut Cutanja
I was 13, my brother wasn’t at home, so I decided to raid his computer for music. “Borrowed” a lot of punk music and this album which was titled just Six Pack. I didn’t really listen to Serbian music (tbh, I turned my nose at it bcs I thought it was something older people did, or ppl with no taste), let’s just say that living in a post-Yugoslavia world as a kid was fkn weird (@httpsgfg might agree). But there’s this song called 2 Minuta Straha (2 Minutes of Fear) which served as a soft transition to punk (punk-rock) for me, and consequently heavier rock and metal. Like, it’s such a great album, and made me open to finding other ex-Yu bands that sounded modern before their time.
5. Opeth - Blackwater Park
It was late 2007 and I made my first friend in high school (other than the ppl I already knew). She was this goth type that had a brother in a band and she listened to a lot of the music he listened to. Long story short, she showed me Bleak and that was IT for me. Loved the oriental vibes, the distorted guitars and the growls so fkn much. To this day I’m a growl > scream girl, and Mikael Akerfeldt’s to blame. Like... his growl is so smooth and homogenous, I love it, and wait until you hear his clean vocals. Top that all off with the jazzy solos and acoustic-sounding guitars, just makes it all so perfect damn it!
6. Avenged Sevenfold - Avenged Sevenfold
2007-2009 was definitely my a7x moment. I started my journey with Waking The Fallen, but The White Album (self-titled) was the pivotal one for me. There’s just something about the complexity of the composition, like the drums are fkn vicious, the guitars are more technical but also more melodic and the lyrics are liakfjndjflsdkjn! It’s also the album The Rev wrote some of my all-time faves like Brompton Cocktail, Afterlife and Almost Easy, and in hindsight... no, don’t want to think about it. But yeah, it set the bar for modern metal music for me.
7. Queensryche - Operation Mindcrime
Now, where do I fkn start with this one. Found it in 2009 or 2010, the peak of my prog metal days and I was just blown away that someone thought to create banger sonics with a banger backstory. Queensryche (at least those bandmembers back then) were absolutely genius in their craft, and I’m just sad they never got to make another album similar in quality.
8. Alice In Chains - Dirt
Back in the day, I really hated grunge, and if I’m being honest, I still hate Nirvana with a passion, hated the fact that musically they weren’t the best but got so famous post-mortem. I mean it’s not their fault, it’s their fans’ fault for being such dicks lbr. But in 2010 I bit the bullet and played me some AIC. I was trying to broaden my horizons so to speak, and grunge was next in line. Layne’s vocals had me hook, line and sinker. I’ve been a fan ever since and I even gave Soundgarden and Pearl Jam a chance.
9. The Police - Synchronicity
My mom’s to blame for this, she’s always liked them, and I used to listen to a lot of ska-influenced music as a kid (I still love it today). I think Synchronicity was the peak of their musicianship as a band and it’s just such an evergreen album. Like... It doesn’t sound like something produced in 1983, yknow? Sting is a mf genius.
10. Ludovico Einaudi - Divenire
The beginning of the last decade was a weird time for me music-wise. I think I wanted to make myself appear more grown-up in the eyes of ppl, and I got a lot of shit for listening to metal. So I went in all sorts of directions, from grunge, to pop-rock (ATL, Paramore that kinda thing), post-rock radio hits and even a bit of minimalist classical music and instrumentals. I used to play classical guitar, so this wasn’t really anything new, but the minimalist subgenre definitely was. I think I could classify my taste as sounding modern/timeless, I really don’t like music that’s stuck in a certain decade, and this album, or more like the song Divenire because that’s the one I’ve played the most, is exactly it. I could be 80 and still listening to this, thinking it just got released. This man is a genius.
Alright, almost 2 hrs after I first started writing this, I’m tagging: @tigerteeff @pxrxmoore @karajaynetoday @wheniminouterspace @httpsgfg or anyone who wants to do it. I guess I missed a few albums, but it is what it is.
xx
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Hola Senorita-Smut
Warnings: Smut, oral sex (male on female), protective sex because we don’t need kids or STDs, grinding and swears. Guys, I can’t believe I wrote smut bye.
Word count: 2.861
a/n: This is my first smut so don’t judge. Also I wrote this while listening to Hola senorita by matre gims if you wanna listen
After your first year of college on your belt, a Mexican vacation was much needed. Although you were swimming in student debt, a little extra debt wouldn’t do much. You and your best friend decided to take a trip to Mexico, go to a resort, meet some hot guys, and live in the moment. Leave all the stress of school behind for an exotic vacation, and you would be dancing and drinking all your problems away for the next week.
You and your friend entered the resort looking around in awe and the palm trees, and gorgeous flowers. You made your way towards the check-in desk moving to a nice looking lady with long black hair.
“Room for Y/N Y/L/N” you spoke with a smile on your face. The lady nodded and typed your name into the computer.
“Room 224, thank you for staying at our resort, have an amazing stay,” she said with a smile handing you 3 key cards. You handed the key cards to your best friend Willow and dragged your suitcases towards the elevator. As you were walking scanned your surroundings. Your eyes landing on a man with curly brown hair. A man who looked extremely similar to Tom Holland, but that would be crazy. You really enjoyed the spiderman movies and definitely found Tom Holland hot. He was 100% on your “dtf” list you had with your friend. You entered the elevator with 5 other people squishing to the back corner with Willow. You got up to the second floor pushing your way out of the elevator. You walked down the yellow-lit hall full of flowers until you reached your room. Willow grabbed the keycard sliding it into the slot. The red light switching to green with a clicking sound. You opened the door to see beds with white sheets. A beautiful view of the ocean. The hotel was extremely nice. You were lucky enough to have an uncle who was able to get deals at places like this you couldn’t imagine the actual price of staying at this resort.
“See any cute guys yet,” Willow asked wriggling her eyebrows giggling.
“Oh yes I saw some very attractive men, I’m so ready to hit the clubs tonight”.
“You and me both sister, I saw this one man and he was the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life and if I don’t find him I may cry” she laughed.
“I saw a guy who looked just like Tom Holland, I looked over and the sun was literally shining on him, dude was glowing” you beamed.
“Tom Holland is a whole snack and a half, and if you can find that guy he's the move” she chuckled plopping onto the bed.
“The suns going down so we should get dressed to go out I’m so ready to dance with some hot guys” you chirped skipping to the bathroom with your dress in your hands. You shut the door and began to remove your travel clothing. Which were sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, because you travel comfy not pretty. You slid on your skater dress which was lace white on top with a short maroon skirt with flowers. You put pearl studs in your ear and a choker with one pearl in the middle. You applied mascara, eyeliner, and natural-looking eye shadow as well as some lip gloss. You straightened your hair, and you were ready to go. You put on some wedges and you and Willow walked out the door. The walk to the club was about ¾ of a mile, and it was part of the resort. It was a nice walk on the beach so you werent complaining. When you reached the club you could hear the music playing. You walk into the club it was dim with lights flashing. You and Willow walked to the bar ordering drinks. You and Willow talked as you drank your margaritas laughing about your first year of college unaware of the British boy checking you out from the other side of the club. The song Hola Senorita came on, and you told Willow you were heading to the dance floor with a wink. When you reached the dance floor you moved your hips to the beat losing yourself in the music. You fluffed your hair as your hips moved until you felt a tap on your back. You whipped around to face the mystery man who looked like Tom Holland.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked with a thick British accent, and that's when you realized this was the actual Tom Holland asking you to dance. You looked at him starstruck for a second then snapped yourself out of it because you wanted to treat him like a normal human being. Your heart was racing but you took a deep breath.
“I’d love to” you smiled. He grabbed your hand and spun you around slowly. Holding you so close but your chests were not touching yet.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked leaning down to talk close to your ear so you could hear. His hot breath making you shiver. Instead of responding you grabbed his hands that were ghosting your hips and placed them right on your hips and backed up so your ass was rubbing against his groin. You moved your hips to the beat grinding against him. His hands tightened on your hips as you ground harder feeling his boner through his pants, making heat rush to your core. His breath fanned your neck, and then you felt his lips ghost your neck. You tilted your head giving him more access. He placed his lips on your neck, and you felt like you floating as you let out a small gasp. The feeling of his boner no your ass had you feeling a way you have never felt. Sure you had been with guys, but no one this hot. You leaned your head back on his shoulder as you danced. Your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of his hands roaming your body. His hands went up right below your breasts as he kissed and sucked your neck. You wondered what his lips would feel like on your yours. It seemed like he was thinking the same thing because we spun you around and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He places his hands on your lower back pulling your groin into his now hard on rubbing your area in a delicious way. His eyes darted from your eyes to your lips. You bit your lip as he licked his.
“Can I kiss you” he questioned in a sultry voice. Instead of responding you smashed your lips into his. The kiss was desperate and you felt his hands fall to your ass. His tongue swiped your bottom lip begging for access which you accepted immediately his tongue fighting for dominance with yours. Him obviously winning. You pulled at the ends of his hair making him groan into the kiss making you impossibly wetter. The ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. You pulled away from the kiss to breathe. But he didn't stop he kissed down you jaw to you clavicle finding your sweet spot making you moan. His dick becoming harder at the sound. He lifted his head from your neck.
“So what's your name, and do you want to head back to mine” he breathed against your ear.
“Y/N, and you also yes”? You said with an alluring smile as you bite your lip. You usually weren’t this confident, but something about how he looked at you made you feel like a goddess.
“Tom, but I think you already knew that” he stated. You winked and grabbed his hand weaving through the people. You stepped outside the fresh night breeze chilling you burning skin. Tom kept his hand in yours as you walked.
“So you do know who am right,” he asked curiously.
“Of course I do” you exclaimed. “You’re Spider-man” you whispered that part making him chuckle.
“Then why did you ask for my name”
“Because technically although I know of you, you're still a stranger, and deserve to be treated as a normal human being” you claimed brushing some hair behind your ear as the wind blew it in front of your face. He smiled at the statement.
“That means a lot you know to get treated like you aren’t famous” he smiled at you.
“Of course it's funny cause my friend and I were talking about how we always want what we don’t have. I would love to be famous, but we were thinking actors would sometimes wish no one knew them ya know”
“That's very true some days I want to dye my hair red and go out in public with a new name and hope for the best” he joked making you giggle.
“Do people always notice you in public or do you have like some kind of disguise when you go places” you asked, curious of the life of a celebrity.
“Yeah, usually a hat and sunglasses, but that works 50% of the time” he laughed.
“Maybe you should wear a wig that has a whole different hair style” you suggested.
“Like a long hair wig thats blonde”
“I pretty sure i’d look wack, but if I decide to try that out I’ll let you know if it works” He laugh interlocking your hands as you walked along the beach listening to the waves. You turned and looked at his face. His jawline making you mouth water. He was hot, and the fact that you were currently heading back to his room right now had you feeling dizzy. You examined his face looking at his lips and you were dying to kiss him again, so you did. You stopped in your tracks and he looked at you. He was about to say something, but before he could your lips were on his. Your lips moved in sync and your arms wrapped around his neck and his fell to you ass pulling you closer rubbing his manhood against your heat making you moan into the kiss.
“How far is your room from here” you mumbled through the kiss.
“5 minutes if we walk fast” he replied breathless. So you took of jogging, and he followed. You laughed as you guys approached the hotel. He swiped his key card practically sprinting to the elevator. As soon as the door closed he pushed you up against the elevator wall kissing you neck. You leaned your head back on the wall biting your lip as he sucked a hickey on your neck. The elevator dinged and he dragged you to his room. He struggled to swipe keycard on his door as you kissed along his jawline. When he finally opened the door he slammed it shut shoving you against the door making you gasp. He slammed his lips against yours. The kiss wasn’t sweet it was full of lust, and it was so hot.He unzipped you dress and you let it slide down your body leaving you in your black thong and black laced bra. His eyes wided at the site as he checked out your exposed body. He kissed you neck again and went up to your ear telling you to jump.
You then jumped wrapping your legs around his waist. His hand landed on your ass and he carried you to the bed dropping you on your back. He kissed you again putting his leg in between your throbbing heat. You grinded against his leg moaning his name. He kissed down you body leaving kisses all over your stomach. You gasped as he nipped the inner side of your thigh. You stood up for a second taking his shirt off to reveal his ripped body making you groan. You looked down as you felt his breath inches from your heat. He smirked up at you and left a kiss on the fabric making you through your head back.
“Do something Holland” you whined in anticipation.
“Tell me what you want darling” he said seductivly making your head go fuzzy.
“Your tongue” you moaned as he slid you thong slowly down you legs
“All you had to do was ask” he smirked licking down your clit making you gasp as you reached down to grab onto his curls. He licked and sucked making you head spin. After a but, you felt the coil in your stomach begin to build up as tom fucked you with his tongue. He then added a finger making you jolt. You were so close and he knew it. He sped up his movement unil your legs began to shake as you came. He continued to fuck you with his tongue until your high was over. You fell back out of breath.
“Holy shit your good” you breathed, and he laughed. You sat up grabbing him by his pants flipping him over. You crawled on top of him palming him through his jeans and he groaned. You slowly unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his legs. You kissed his cock through the fabric of his boxers similar to what he did to you.
“What do you want Tom” you purred almost mocking him a bit.
“To be inside of you” he groaned.
“All you had to do was ask” you giggled seductively. You pulled his boxers down his dick popping out. He was big. Much bigger than you’ve ever had. He smirked as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. You removed your bra giving Tom a view of your breasts. His hands immediately went to them massaging them making you moan.
“Condom”? You asked.
“In my back pocket” he breathed and you gave him a look.
“So you were expecting this” you smirked and he laughed
“Always gotta be preparedred darling” he replied with the most seductive face and you almost moaned out loud. You grabbed the condom from his back pocket opening it as fast as you could. You rolled it on his cock slowly teasing him a bit. You lined his cock up with your hole and sunk down on his dick making you cry out. His hand went from you breasts to your hips. You began to bounce up and down on his dick moaning at the feeling of him inside you.
“You are beautiful” he breathed pulling you down for a kiss. The feeling of him inside you made your head fuzzy, so you broke the kiss you head falling down to his neck moaning with every thrust. You began to get tired, and he realized and flipped you over and began thrusting inside you hard and fast making you cry out
“I’m getting close” he moaned continuing his fast pace. You clenched around him saying that you were too. He put his hand down to you clit rubbing it fast making you scream and you covered your mouth. You felt the coil building again and you felt your orgasm hit you whole body shaking. Tom kept going until he hit his high moaning. He collpsed on top of you then rolled over to the side of you.
“Damn that was good,” he said breathless looking at the ceiling. You nodded as you started to sit up to leave. He noticed and sat up with you. “You don’t have to go, you can stay the night if you want. My friend definitely won’t be back” he reassured.
“Are you sure I wouldn’t want to intrude” you replied playing with your hands.
“I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t want you to” he laughed as he pulled your body into his. You laid your head on his chest drawning circles along his abdomen until you fell asleep.
__
The nest morning you woke up limbs tangled with Tom. Honestly, it came as a bit of a shock because you were convinced you dreamed the whole thing. You carefully got out of Toms arms grabbing your phone and going to the bathroom. You had like 30 messages and 10 missed calls from a bunch of your friends making you kinda nervous, so you quickly called you friend Willow in a panic. She answered the phone and you quickly asked if everything was okay and she interrupted you fast.
“DUDE did you fucking sleep with Tom holland” she exclaimed
“What how the hell did you know that” you asked confused.
“Check the link I sent you on iMessage,” she said making you nervous. You clicked on the link seeing an article titled “Tom Holland seen leaving the club with mystery girl” Your jaw dropped as there was a picture of you two kissing and a picture of you holding his hand. You could clearly see your face and that would explain the multiple texts from your friends asking if that was you, and honestly, you had no idea what to do.
#tom holland imagine#tom holland fluff#tom holland x you#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#tom holland#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker
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Just Tonight #1 (Shalaska) - BABE
Sharon is the lead singer in an indie punk band and Alaska finds herself becoming their number 1 fan.
AN: So I was scrolling through the blog a while back and I found this prompt and I just fell in love with it, however I’ve been on holiday for the past five days so I wrote all of this on my mobile phone while on the tram, at the hotel, walking to see Alaska a few nights ago and even at the club. I plan to write more of this so chuck it a like if you want!! This is the first time I’ve written fanfiction in a while so I apologise! Also I plan to not make this just Shalaska, there’s hints of Trixya, Pamelet (Pearl/Fame/Violet) and Biadore if you squint.
It was a complete accident that Alaska ended up where she was tonight.
Sure, it might seem quite comical to picture Alaska Thunder, all blonde hair and long legs, mere inches away from the indie punk cover band playing at the warehouse costume party she’d be been forced into attending by her roommate. It was even more comical to imagine her, in her slutty cat costume (which was really a short dress and heels with store bought cat gloves, ears and a choker) actually enjoying the music, but it was happening.
A few hours prior, Alaska had just arrived home from her job at McDonald’s, praying to God that her roommate was out. It wasn’t that she didn't like Adore; it was just that the girl was insane. She spent most of her days smoking weed with random people that she had slept with the night before, and when the brunette actually attended the class that the two shared she spent the whole time hitting on Professor Del Rio. Not to mention, she was always trying to drag Alaska out to parties, and while the blonde loved going out, she barely had enough money to keep herself afloat. When she stuck the key in her door, absolutely tired from the day’s work, of course Adore’s voice rang through their shared room.
“Lasky, we’re going out tonight!!” the brunette exclaimed as Alaska crinkled up her nose. Adore swung her legs over her bed and stood up, a wicked grin on her face. “Don’t give me that look, there’s a party down near Cooper Street that’s having a costume theme. A girl from my gender studies class, Pearl, says the band playing is going to be fucking dope plus Katya is down to come out. Please?”
Alaska sighed. Adore was making these huge puppy dog eyes and the blonde found it hard to disagree. It had been a while since they had all gone out and despite her wanting to sink into her bed and pass out for 12 hours, the blonde gave in.
“Fine, but I wanna borrow your cat gloves,” the blonde sighed, knowing that her lack of costume could be remedied by Adore’s eclectic style.
“Fair trade, be ready by eight. Katya will be here and we’ll drink this,” Adore paused as she dug out a bottle of tequila from behind a shelf, “before we go.“
“Sounds like a plan.”
——–
Two hours had passed and Alaska was impressed by her efforts. She’d managed to transform herself from a greasy mess to a cat. Her black strapless dress clung to her hips and thighs while her stilettos were higher than professor Del Rio’s standards. Her long blonde hair was pulled up Ariana Grande style while Adore’s cat ears sat atop her head like a tiara and the brunette’s fingerless gloves showed her long white nails. Another loan from Adore was a choker that said “meow” in jewels (“You better not fucking leave it in a frat boy’s room,” the brunette warned), and to finish the cat look, she’d drawn whiskers on her face. Katya (also known as Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolochikova, but nobody had the fucking effort to say her full name), who lived in the room across the hall with a film student called Max and had clicked with the two girls instantly. She lounged on Adore’s bed in her Russian gymnastics suit, red cup in hand as Adore stood in front of her mirror and tied her flannel shirt around her waist. Of course, her costume was just her everyday style - flannel shirt, high waisted shorts, band tee and sneakers, but nobody at the party knew that. The three were drinking homemade tequila sunrises and laughing about some story that had happened to Katya at the club she’d went to the night before. It was their classic pregame that they’d perfected in sophomore year.
“I swear, Courtney was all over him!!” the Russian blonde exclaimed between chuckles. “She didn’t realise that he had the hugest cold sore, should’ve warned her."
Adore leaned back and chucked, stepping away from the mirror with satisfaction. "Classic Courtney, total hornbag,” she mused, so many memories coming to mind. Her and the blonde go back to freshman year in high school me have been unlikely best friends ever since. Turning to face her friends, Adore jumped onto her leopard print beanbag and took a sip from her drink. “Alaska, you’re the rich one. Call the Uber.” The blonde, who was mindlessly scrolling through her Instagram feed, sighed and closed the app. “Fine, but next time it’s your shout, Delano.” The Uber was ordered and set to come within five minutes, so the group downed their drinks and left their dorm room. Adore chatted mindlessly about whatever she was doing in her gender studies class while Katya responded in laughs and Russian phrases. Alaska, however, was in her own world all the way to the party, knowing that something was different. She had a vibe about tonight that she couldn’t ignore, but she knew something good was about to happen.
————-
When the trio arrived, the party was in full swing. A blonde dressed in bunny ears and a bodysuit ran over to Adore with a grin. “‘Dora, darling!” she greeted, kissing both of the brunette’s cheeks. She had blue eyes and a nose ring and was accompanied by a dark haired girl with an incredibly small waist dressed in leather.
“Pearl!” Adore exclaimed as she copied the girl’s actions. “This is Katya and Alaska. Girls, meet Pearl.” The three exchanged polite hellos as the brunette clutching Pearl’s hand cleared her throat. “Sorry babe,” Pearl apologised. “This is Violet, she’s one of my girlfriends.” The brunette forced a smile but looked like she wanted to be elsewhere. “Don’t mind her, she’s just upset that Maggie had to go back to New York for the weekend. She’s our other girlfriend but everyone calls her Fame.” The three girls nodded in understanding as another blonde strutted up to the group.
“Pearl thanks so much for inv-” she started to say until her eyes locked on Katya. She was dressed in all pink and had makeup resembling a Barbie. “Hi,” she said with a friendly tone. “I’m Trixie."
Alaska and Adore both looked over at Katya as the Russian struggled to find her words. "I’m Adore, this is Alaska and that mess up the end is Katya.”
“Cool, nice meeting you girls,” Trixie replied with a grin. “Anyways, I came over to say thank you for inviting me Pearl. Now I’m off to get a drink. Anyone coming with me?"
"Y-yes,” Katya stuttered as she followed the blonde. Alaska and Adore shared a look; they both knew that Katya would not be back until tomorrow. Pearl giggled as she turned back to the girls. Violet excused herself to go to the bathroom, leaving a light peck on her girlfriend’s cheek in the process. Pearl then focused her attention back on her friends.
“I’d go get a drink if I were you,” she said to the girls. “My friend’s band are about to play and they’re probably the best cover band in Pittsburgh.” The blonde looked down at her buzzing phone with a devilish grin. “Sorry, I’ve been summoned,” she answered with a wink. “I’ll see you bitches later.” With that, Pearl strutted away in the direction of Violet. Adore and Alaska walked up to the bar, the brunette getting distracted and wandering in the direction of a frat boy she’d banged two weekends ago. This left Alaska alone at the bar, ordering a drink as she studied the party around her.
“You look like you need a shot of vodka,” a voice behind me said with a smirk. Alaska turned around to see a woman with ice blonde hair wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans. In front of her was a lonely shot, the other in her hand. Alaska looked into her eyes, intrigued at how ice blue they were.
“I never say no to a free drink,” she replied, picking up the glass and clinking it with the stranger. The vodka slid down her throat as Alaska tried not to make a face. Blondie cackled at the other girl’s reaction, her grin the size of the Cheshire Cat. “How has your night been?” the stranger asked, returning to her rum and coke.
“Good, although I wish they played better music,” Alaska replied honestly. Blondie raised an eyebrow, not able to take her eyes off of the girl in front of her. She notes how her costume is just an excuse to be scantily clad but couldn’t help but check her out.
“I reckon that’ll change soon, baby. Just get yourself to the front and you’ll see.” And with that, the blonde vanished and Alaska was left to drink her vodka and raspberry in disbelief. She was intrigued by the other blonde, the way that a mixture of different emotions danced throughout her light eyes and how she so easily had Alaska under her spell already.
The familiar voice broke her out of her thoughts as her eyes flashed around to the stage and locked with the stranger’s.
“Hi, we’re Anarchy Rose and we’ve got a really cool set planned for you tonight!"
The band then launched into a cover of "Make Me Wanna Die” by The Pretty Reckless. Alaska watched from the bar, ordering two more drinks and watching Blondie perform on stage. She was electric and Alaska was drawn to her every time she looked at the stage. They’d played a couple more songs until the stranger spoke again.
“Okay, I know we’re a cover band but this is a song I’ve been working on, feel free to tell me what you think!” The crowd cheered and the music softened her voice low. Alaska was transfixed by her song, their eyes connecting from across the room. The blonde couldn’t help herself; it was as if her feet were moving by themselves through the crowd and up to the front. People were disgruntled by the blonde’s shoving but she just had to be closer to the stranger. During the final chorus, Blondie leaned down and grabbed Alaska’s hand, singing the song to her. It was in that moment that Alaska was completely hooked.
———-
The band’s set list had ended and Alaska, who found herself completely enamoured with the lead singer, was searching through hallways for a bathroom. Her mind was still firmly on the blonde but she tried to shake it off.
“Did you like the show?” a voice behind her asked, Alaska turning around to see that it was the lead singer.
“Actually, I did. You were so amazing up there,” she mused as she stuck out her hand. “I’m Alaska Thunder."
The blonde kissed the other girl’s hand, blue eyes smirking at her. "Sharon Needles. My parents had a sense of humour.” She grinned as she looked at Alaska’s red cheeks, a reaction to her kiss. It might’ve been the alcohol, but Alaska wanted Sharon to kiss her so badly. Her eyes darkened with lust as Sharon stepped closer, a grin still present on her face.
“I’m glad you liked the show, princess,” she started, filling the space between the blondes. “But I always liked the after party.” Sharon’s hand carefully touched Alaska’s cheek, trying not to smudge the cat whiskers. Their eyes locked and both could see how much lust they each held as Sharon connected their lips. The kiss quickly became rough and fast, their lust taking top priority over anything. Sharon’s hand rested Alaska’s hip as she roughly pushed her against the door behind them and through to the empty bathroom. She kept pushing until Alaska’s ass hit the back of the sink. Moving her hand down to Alaska’s other hip, Sharon lifted the blonde on top of the sink cupboard, smirking as Alaska wrapped her legs around her waist. Their tongues fought for dominance as one of Sharon’s hand rested on Alaska’s breast, playing with it softly as she pulled away.
Her lips weren’t away from Alaska for long, though. Sharon kissed the blonde’s neck slowly before nipping and biting at the area, causing the other girl to moan as she did so. Sharon’s lips got lower, exposing Alaska’s breasts so she could lightly suck on her nipple. She knew that she had the blonde in the palm of her hand; she knew that Alaska would beg for her to touch her soon.
“Fuck, Sharon,” Alaska moaned. She was horny and needy and didn’t realise how much she wanted the blonde to fuck her senselessly until now. Sharon smirked at her moans and stuck her hand between the girl’s legs, rubbing her inner thigh softly before rubbing her on the outside of her panties. She smirked at how wet she was, causing her to want to tease her less. Moving up to the blonde’s mouth, Sharon kissed her on the lips as her fingers rubbed Alaska’s clit, pushing aside her panties. The blonde was moaning into her kisses, her hips bucking as she stuck two fingers inside of her roughly. This made the girl cum with a loud cry, something that was music to Sharon’s ears. However, she wasn’t done yet.
Kneeling on the grimy bathroom floor, Sharon slipped the panties down past Alaska’s knees and pushed up her skirt so she could gain good access. Her tongue danced along the blonde’s clit before plunging inside of her, tasting her completely. Her hand roughly played with her clit as moans poured from Alaska’s mouth, the girl getting closer in a matter of minutes.
“Sharon!” she screamed as came a second time, leaning against the mirror in pure ecstasy. This had got to be one of the best sexual encounters she’d ever had. Sharon stood up from the floor and pecked Alaska on the forehead.
“You like that, Princess?” she asked, her grin still wicked. Her hair was dishevelled and her dark lipstick everywhere but Alaska still thought she looked beautiful. The blonde nodded, pulling Sharon back towards her for a longer kiss. They’d made out some more until Sharon unexpectedly pulled away, a grin more devilish than anything Alaska had ever seen.
“See you at my next show,” she smirked, and with that, she left. Alaska sat on the sink confused by what had just happened - a girl had flirted with her, given her two of the best orgasms she had ever had… and left. Alaska didn’t know what would come of this, but as she walked home from the party, she knew that Sharon would be tattooed in her mind for a very long time.
#alaska thunderfuck#sharon needles#adore delano#shalaska#smut#fluff#babe#just tonight#rpdr fanfiction#submission#lesbian au#just tonight by babe
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* I wrote this piece for my magazine writing class, I hope you like it!
Quaint little community, alluring tourist trap, refined urban town, beachcombers’ paradise – Seabrook, Washington has numerous faces. Respectively appealing to a variety of both temporary and permanent guests. Families, seeking enjoyable activities designed for all ages find opportunities to: ride bicycles, build sand castles, fly kites, and roast marshmallows. Couples, looking for a romantic rendezvous discover: serene sunsets on the beach, moments of solitude along the many walking trails, snuggles by the fire, and exquisite dinners. Friends, searching for a weekend getaway come across a multitude of possibilities for creating, shopping, and exploring. Individuals, pursuing a personal retreat encounter the ability to escape the busyness of everyday life and indulge in total relaxation of the mind, body, and spirit.
Originated in 2005, Seabrook is the newest, budding beach town, celebrating nature and community, on the Washington coast. Seabrook began as a childhood dream for founders and residents Casey and Laura Roloff, who both grew up playing on the beaches of the Pacific Northwest. The founders and their team, inspired by these dreams, believe the finest towns are purposefully designed, not formed by chance. The philosophy which is known as “new urbanism”; this scheme is guided by three ideals: our personal instinctive need of being a part of something, an ease of access to basic goods and services, as well as, the concept of sustainability.
Perched upon an ocean bluff, Seabrook is a pedestrian paradise, you will need to use your car to drive here; however, once you have arrived everything is within walking distance. A five-minute walk connects all residents to all the common areas: amphitheater, market, parks, restaurants, outdoor games, playgrounds, Town Hall, fire pits, boutique shops, heated indoor pool, and the beach. These walkways around Seabrook are exquisitely unique, made with a variety of eco-friendly materials; boardwalks, gravel, reclaimed crushed oyster shell, and shredded cedar mulch. Each pathway leading you to these beautiful common gathering areas that Seabrook’s website says, “are where community is strengthened and memories are made and shared.”
How To Get There
Coming from the South Puget Sound area, you will want to drive south on I-5 toward Olympia to begin your coastal escapade. From the state’s capital, you will head west on US 101 N at exit 104. This short six-mile drive will allow you to merge onto US-8 toward Aberdeen and Montesano, continue on the highway for 20 miles until you reach US-12 W which will take you to the city of Aberdeen. Once in Aberdeen, you will want to stop and pick up any necessities as this is the last major city before you enter the plethora of ocean towns along the coast. There are plenty of gas stations, boutiques, and small markets to pick up your favorite beachy trash & trinkets; however, forgotten items such as toothpaste, sand castle building supplies, sunglasses, flip flops, and the like are about to triple in price. When ready to proceed, follow the signs to WA-109 NW. Leaving Hoquiam, you will see a body of water to your left. Do not be confused as the road will lead you up and away from the body of water into a forested area, you are still on the correct highway, proceed through the ups, downs, and sharp turns. Continue WA -109 N for 25 miles, passing Ocean City, Copalis Beach, Iron Springs, and Ocean Grove. Seabrook will be on your right-hand side, you can enter through the beautifully landscaped entrance which is Front Street. If you have reservations, you can find the Cottage & Bike Rentals on your right; however, day trippers are also welcome.
Where to Stay
The home-owners of Seabrook are both permanent and temporary. Half of the residents call this town home year-round, while others have a vacation home and rental property. Cottages available to rent have redefined vacation for those on the Washington Coast. They all look as they have been gathered up and hand delivered from Martha’s Vineyard. Each home is individually named, similar to the boats found on the harbor; Catch a Wave, Worry Free Days, The Little Pearl, Coral Belle Cottage, Captain Morgan’s to highlight a few. They are also individually decorated in an ocean, beach theme that is both relaxing and pleasing to the eye.
When visiting, you are entering someone’s home. You treat it with respect and you clean up after yourself. A few notifications are placed around the rooms of how they would like things to be completed; such as, no shoes in this area and hang wet items here. They also provide directions to use their trendy technological gadgets and their favorite family board games they have for you to enjoy during your stay. In return, I have received in the mail: thank you cards, Christmas cards with pictures of the cottage, and yearly picture calendars from the home-owners of the cottages I have stayed in. They are genuinely appreciative of your stay and encourage you to revisit their home or another’s.
Over 170 gorgeous homes available, both in town cottages and luxury oceanfront rentals: quaint and cozy cottages, ideal for individuals, a couple, or a small family, sleeping one to six guests; enjoy a little bit more breathing room or share a rental home with friends, sleeping seven to ten guests; large but comfy homes are ideal for multiple families or a large group, sleeping eleven to seventeen guests; and big homes for the biggest groups are hard to find, at Seabrook they are a staple sleeping eighteen or more. Cottage rentals are available at $116 a night to $741 a night, some rental owners have weekly rates available. All cottages are equipped with everything you need to enjoy your stay; bedding, linens, towels, dishes, cookware, and more. Their on-site team provides full service 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
What to Eat
Frontager’s Pizza Co. Classic brick- oven pizza and tasty Italian cuisine using local ingredients from the Olympic Peninsula. Great dining for two or the entire group/family. Call ahead for reservations, as this place is packed from open to close. They serve an amazing breakfast too. www.facebook.com/frontagers
Mill 109 Restaurant. When it comes to breakfast, lunch, dinner, and drinks this restaurant and pub is where it is at. Serving all in a family friendly atmosphere. Beer Garden is open during warmer weather season. Dinner entrees range from $12 to $26.
www.mill109.com
Sweet Life. Homemade ice-cream and delicious treats. If you are like me, you cannot go home without getting your salt-water taffy when you visit the beach and this is the place to do it. www.sweetlifewa.com
Red Velvet Bakery … by the Sea. Delicious coffee and even better treats! You can even pick up a boxed lunch that you can take to the beach. Everything is made fresh, daily. www.facebook.com/redvelvetbakerybythesea
Front Street Market. Offering a fine selection of produce, dairy, beer and wine, deli meats, snacks and frozen food, as well as personal care necessities. http://www.shopfrontstreetmarket.com
What to Do
Bucks Bikes. If walking is not your favorite choice of transportation in town, you can rent a cruiser bike during your stay. Rentals of wet gear, bike trailers, fat tire bikes, and body boards are also available. Reservations can be made online prior to your stay or made at the shop in town. I recommend reservations during spring and summer to save time and ensure availability. All moderately priced for hourly, daily, and weekly prices. Bucks, also has a full repair shop to fix any issues you may have with your rental or the bike you brought along. www.bucksbicyclerepair.comwww.bucksbicyclerepair.com
Crescent Indoor Swimming Pool. One of the only heated indoor pools available on the Washington coast, where people can enjoy swimming all year round. This fine amenity is free of charge during your stay at one of the cottage rentals. A quiet, adult lap swim is held for two hours every morning from 7am-9am, then it is open to all ages until 11pm. The pool area also includes a spa jacuzzi and a terrace for those interested in a little relaxation.
Spa Elizabeth. Pamper yourself to: a nice hand, foot, neck, or, full body massage; a hand or foot treatment, and facial. Appointments are mandatory and reservations are recommended at least two-weeks in advance to ensure service. Price ranges vary on service. www.spaelizabeth.com
Rusty Anchor Fitness. Your stay in any of the rental cottages includes complimentary access to the gym, so that you can stay on your exercise regime away from home or make the time to begin one. www.facebook.com/rustyanchorfitness
Imagine That! Paint your own pottery studio. All pottery completed before 5pm is fired up and ready for you the next day at noon for pick up. Choose from a variety of ceramic shapes, plates and other objects to create your own custom painted piece.www.facebook.com/imaginethat.seabrook
Event Calendar. Stay up to date and see what is planned while you are in town. Saturday markets, Sunset Concert Series, Doggie Days, Volleyball Tournaments, Festivals, Movie Nights, Parades, and more. http://www.seabrookwa.com/events-calendar
Where to Shop
The Stowaway. Local and from around the world delectable cheeses and fine wine. Sip at the bar, take it home, or have it delivered to your cottage. Fresh bread baked daily. www.facebook.com/ThestowawayatSB
SeaWorthy Home. A place to find your favorite coastal living lifestyle decorating needs and wants. http://on.fb.me/1oaJPxG
Seabrook Logowear Shop. Grab a souvenir to remember your time at Seabrook; sweatshirts, t-shirts, coffee mugs, sea shells, and more. Call 360-276-0265
Crafty Christine. Unique jewelry and accessories. Housed inside an Air-stream trailer on Front Street. www.facebook.com/SirenSalvage
The Salty Dog. A one-stop dog shop for dogs and their humans. From toys, food, beds, cute little sweaters and rain-gear, and self- serve dog washes they definitely have your special one in mind. They have dog lover gifts and books too. www.shopsaltydog.com
Visiting Seabrook: The Nantucket of the West * I wrote this piece for my magazine writing class, I hope you like it! Quaint little community, alluring tourist trap, refined urban town, beachcombers’ paradise – Seabrook, Washington has numerous faces.
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