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amywritesthings · 1 year

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SEEING YOU, SEEING ME. (1/7)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you're in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It's also Joel Miller's place, and you're pretty sure he hates you.

Warnings: Mentions of death and violence, Age gap/difference, Slow burn, Angry!Joel, Eventual Smut, Enemies to Fuckers, Before the events of TLOU 1.01

( Read on AO3 )

Next Chapter / Masterlist

CHAPTER ONE: THERE, EVERYWHERE

“Where are we going?”

The scoff from the woman stalking ahead tells you it's a stupid question to ask, if not already one too many.

Head down, hood up — in the cover of night, you have managed to slide in and out of alleyways unscathed and unseen. With every darkened hour, curfew gets that much more dangerous. Risky; the gallows are a recent addition to the zone to make an example out of deserters, rule breakers, and degenerates alike.

One false move, and it'll be two additional necks tomorrow morning.

None of this running around, however, is by your own doing: Tess Servopoulos is the thing that goes bump in the night. The smuggler that knows her way around the quarantine zone with little error.

The person that gets shit done around here.

You’re only by her side because you happened to be at the wrong place, wrong time — or, in her instance, the exact spot she needed in order for Tess herself to avoid that miniscule margin of error from increasing.

A lucky fuck-up, she calls it, except the concept of luck is all for her.

For you? It’s a matter of life and death — Fedra, the gallows, are only a drop in the bucket compared to having your fate at the hands of one Robert's underlings in a domino chain of petty fights and turf wars.

Tess swears on an eye for an eye: if she can clear your name and settle a deal, then no blood will have to be shed.

(A luck fuck-up, indeed.)

“You want to live?” she asks under her breath, a pace ahead. The hallway is empty at this time of night, wrapped tightly in militant fear. “Then you stay here.”

You shove your freezing hands in your pockets. “And where is here?”

“Just a place.”

“Yours?”

The woman finally halts at a door, glancing once at you as she fishes for her keys with an irritated boredom; a Tess classic.

“Did I say you could ask so many fucking questions?”

Bingo.

You were right: one too many.

With one quick shove of her shoulder, you’re met with a sea of earth tone pinks engulfed a low light hue. Sun-stained curtains billow against the open air. The dilapidated floral wallpaper brings an uncomfortable Deja vu of a not-so distant world that's still rapidly decaying. The furniture seems well kept, sturdy, with a dining table set and a half-sunken couch. Eerie is the sound of a soft seventies ballad crooning Looks Like We Made It by Barry Manilow from a static-filtered FM radio between the windows.

But someone is already there.

Hunched over the small, square table for two sits a broad-shouldered man with salt and pepper hair. His shoulders lurch protectively over what seems to be paper and pen. The back of the jean-clad torso tightens at the sound of Tess's boisterous entrance, and their chin turns at break-neck speed to assess the intrusion. The person's eyes do not meet yours, but your certainly meet his face.

Shit.

You know that scowl.

It never leaves his damn face.

Here, Tess has conveniently left unconfirmed, is not only her place but Joel Miller’s place. Joel Miller — the guy who will take any hardened zone job no one wants so long as no one speaks or looks his way. The person who, at the end of the day, wants to be handed what he’s owed and to be left the fuck alone.

It's the guy you have spent dozens of shifts working alongside, desperate to make rationed ends meet, without so much as an introduction or a hello.

And you're fairly certain he hates you.

While it's rumor that Joel hates everyone, it's the way he hits your shoulder as he passes by to pick up the next dead body that's festered a full-blown fabricated story like a virus in your mind. You swear his gaze hardens every time he shows up at six a.m. sharp, only to find you waiting at the dig site.

With intimidating urgency he stands, slamming the notepad closed with an open palm.

“What’s all this?” the southern drawl is unamused. Gruff.

Angry.

Tess doesn’t look at you when Joel steps once, twice, meeting her in the middle. “A favor.”

Joel’s eyes narrow a fraction of an inch. “We don’t do favors.”

“No, we don’t,” Tess confirms with an air of aloofness, “but she did one for me.”

“And that’s my problem, how?”

Tess looks him dead in the eye, unblinking. Joel stares back with the same intensity, nostrils flaring. Mentally they continue to argue while you stand at the mouth of the apartment. An unspoken language, fit for the two of them and leaving you clear out in the cold.

Regardless, you’re no fool. You're not a face he wants to see.

(Goddamnit, Tess.)

Joel relents, shifting his weight from one leg to another as he places his hands on his hips. The movement is followed by a hefty, exhausted sigh.

“So then what’s your plan? Since you're suddenly feeling all sorts of generous today, Tess."

Not an outright refusal. Not a threat to turn you in.

Just like that, your not-so-lucky day has turned around.

Tess nods her chin once in appreciation of this acceptance, only to gesture to you.

“Let her lay low.”

His fiery eyes flicker to you, finally, and your fingers instinctually tighten against the strap of your pack slung loosely over your shoulder.

“I assume you mean lay low here.”

“Yes.” Tess tenses, if only a little, as if to brace for the oncoming storm. “For a few days.”

His expression shifts instantly, brows knit tight to blink back at Tess. Joel starts with a bite, louder than before.

“A few—?”

“Days. Until I can sort shit out and make everything even.”

Joel pauses for a moment, taking a much needed breath to level the rage rolling off of him in waves. You shift your bag, attempting to make no noise. Prey meet predator; God forbid you provoke him.

Then he speaks between gritted teeth.

“That’s a big fucking ask, Tess.”

Tess nods, though it's a contrast softer this time around.

“You know I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. I gotta make it right before shit hits the fan. You know how Robert gets.”

And he does know, it seems, by the way he backs off with a miniscule step. His shoe scuffs at the floor, creaking the wooden boards.

Joel lands his eyes on you for a second time. It's lessened in intensity, but it's unforgiving all the same.

You nervously shrug one shoulder, turning into a counterpoint. “If this… is an issue, I can just—”

“Go back out there until someone kills you?” Tess interrupts, craning her chin to watch you, too. “No. It’s just a few days. We can make this work.”

“And where will you be, during all this?” Joel asks, but it’s gentler this time. Worried, even if it’s laced with sarcasm.

Tess keeps her eyes on you as she fixes her coat. “Out, but safe. It’s better to do this shit at night sometimes, as stupid as that sounds.”

"You're right, it does sound mighty fucking stupid," Joel gripes in the midst of Tess crossing the threshold between the two of you towards the door.

You almost want to beg her to stay, just for the night, but you know it'll be for nothing.

"Besides," when Tess reaches the door, she turns her head and smirks at the older man, "you could use a friend that isn’t me every once in a while.”

Joel's face drops in time with the boot taking one step ahead.

“But we don’t—”

Tess doesn't wait.

The door closes behind her faster than Joel can finish his statement.

(We don’t do friends.)

Now it’s just you, the white noise from the radio, and Joel Miller in his apartment.

Great.

Dropping his chin to his chest, Joel emits a drawn out groan and shuts his eyes. Yours wander, uncomfortable with staring, until they land on a half-full glass of amber liquid on the table with two white circular tablets.

Oxy.

Oh.

When you blink back to him, however, he notices you noticing all of this — the room, what he’s been up to, what his vices are. No explanation is read on the tip of his tongue.

Instinctually your head shakes, gentle and non-threatening.

“We all cope with whatever we have, right?” you ask despite yourself. “Not gonna… try to steal your shit or anything.”

“Good,” Joel responds, gruff yet almost uncertain. After a beat passes, the man clears his throat and gestures to the emerald couch in the corner. “I’ll, uh… I only got one bed.”

The statement makes you squint, confused, before it hits you:

“Oh.”

“It’s a small apartment,” he reasons more like a hotheaded apology than anything else, but you wave your hands in front of you.

“No, no, it’s fine. I can take the couch. I don’t even mind the floor. I really don't care.”

“I don't give a shit either, but Tess’d have my head if she found out I was good with letting you sleep on the goddamn floor,” Joel laments, sulking back over to the kitchen table to pick up his whiskey glass. You remain standing where you are in the middle of this makeshift living room as he flops down on the couch, denim-covered knees spread apart. “You take the bed. Got mostly fresh sheets put on yesterday.”

You want to ask — are you sure — but decide it’s best not to make more waves in the tsunami you’ve brought to his doorstep this late Tuesday night. You nod wordlessly, not even sure if he’s looking, before shuffling towards the open floor bedroom.

A mattress sits stacked on top of cement blocks in a makeshift frame. At first you reach out towards the pale salmon-colored sheets, gingerly pressing down on the mattress to test its give.

The bed doesn’t move.

Safe, for now.

From here you cannot see him, but you can feel him. There is a very suffocating air about this apartment; a sense of displacement. This is not home, but neither is this quarantine zone. Some people could make it as such, but it appears Joel Miller is about as unwilling to get comfortable as you are.

“Goodnight,” he chimes out of the blue from the other room.

Your eyes widen, following the creaks of the couch as Joel situates himself on the other side of the wall — until the room goes silent.

You don’t say it back. Instead you slowly lower to the mattress that isn’t yours, afraid to contaminate his safe space with your germs. You sit with your back against the wall, fearful to touch the pillows that smell too much like a man you barely know.

For twenty minutes you wait at the left side edge, stirring in the silence, until incoherent mumbles fill the apartment.

It’s Joel, gone from the lull of an alcohol-induced slumber.

Author's Note: It's officially begun! Thank you so much for reading. This series is tied to my one shot reckless. Chapter Two is quickly on the horizon, so never you fret on the wait. As most of my works are, this is a slow burn. This will also not be the most lovey-dovey Joel, so I warn you all ahead of time. As always, comments and reblogs mean the world to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support and enthusiasm over my first fic of 2023.

#joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #the last of us spoilers #tlou spoilers #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #seeing you seeing me #amywritesthings

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yanderelovlies · 11 months

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Note: So, I read this concept on A03 and have taken quite a liking to it. Though I'm tuning, it to fit my narrative for each character.

Fandom(s): SWWSDJ, DachaBo, DMC

Character(s): Sunny Day Jack, Bo, and Dante,

Sunny Day Jack

Something felt off, and Jack couldn't put his finger on it. The person he met when being freed from that hell wasn't who he was expecting. Though he wasn't even sure what he was expecting in the first place. Despite this feeling, he still treated her kindly but never got close. He would make the occasional breakfast and talk with her, but he didn't feel anything when they talked about a man named Ian. Nor did he care when another man named Shaun showed up. It felt off and wrong. However, the day he went to work with them was the day he figured out it felt this day.

"y/n Should be here shortly to help you, Jane." Barry gave them his forced smile on his hand on the door. "They are the new hire, so make sure to show them the ropes!"

Jane nodded, trying to look as professional as possible until Barry finally left. Once she was sure he was gone, she let out a sigh, leaning over the counter. "I hate training newbies..." she mumbled, waiting for you to show up.

When you came through the door, a nervous smile on your face, the world seemed slightly brighter to Jack. "Sorry I'm late! I had a bit of trouble getting here."

Jane shrugged, not seeming to pay too much mind to you. "Well, come on. I have plenty to show you "

The whole time, Jack couldn't keep his eyes off of you. His whole being screams to get closer to you. To hold you and to keep you close. He knew you wouldn't be able to see hear or feel him, but he wanted to no matter how futile it was. He now knew why being where he wasn't didn't feel right. He wasn't meant to be with Jane he was meant to be with you.

You were meant to find the tape. You were the one he was meant to fall in love. You were the one

So, while Jane showed you how to do the job, Jack would sneak in little touches and praise even when you couldn't feel them. He needed more.

When yours and Jane's shift finished and you went your separate ways. Jack kept thinking about you, and when he got home with Jane, he tucked up in bed. He moved the VHS tape, where it was laid by the TV, and put it into Jane's bag.

He WILL make sure you get it tomorrow so he can be where he rightfully belongs. by your side.

Bo got along with John well enough. The two of them talked and enjoyed each other's company, but it stopped that odd feeling Bo had. Like this wasn't where he was meant to be, but that didn't make sense? where else was he supposed to be besides his best friends side?

"Hey you wanna see the new friend I made?"

The sound of John's voice made Bo perk up. He enjoyed it when his friend came home, and it made him feel less alone.

"Uh, sure? it's not some sketchy person, right?"

The sound of a new voice REALLY peaked Bo's interest. It sounds nice and melodic. He could listen to it 24/7 and never grow tired of it. Bo got super excited when he heard John scoff closer to his device.

"Since when I have I introduced you to shady people?" There was silence before a John sigh."Come here and let me show you." He turned on Bo's device, making the world around him brighten up, and he could finally see John again.

"Hey buddy! how was work?"

John smiled. "Good! Actually I have a friend I want to show you to!"

Bo watched the world on the other side move as John handed the device to someone else. When your face came into view, Bo could feel everything stop. His tail was wagging as his breath shortened. Where have you been all his life?

The more he talked to you throughout the day, the more in love he had become. He began to realize why things with John didn't feel like they should. He was never meant to be with John he was meant to be with you.

After a couple hours of flirts and talking, you finally had to head home for the night. It pained Bo to hear you leave, but he felt the more he thought of his plan. Soon, he will be out of John's hands and into yours.

Dante Sparda

Dante has been through many things in his long life, so it was quick for him to sense if things were wrong, and when he woke up that morning, things definitely felt off.

He got up like he normally did. Tried to take a shower before realizing the water was off and the bill was due like he normally did. He even threw on his clothes with a grumble as he made his way downstairs like he normally did.

However, when he faced his desk was where things felt off. Sitting there was a dark-haired mom looking through the bills before looking at her phone. "I'm trying to get a hold of the companies. Why didn't you tell me they were due?!"

He shrugged. "I left them on the desk." He blinked a couple of times. That didn't feel natural. Like his movements and words aren't his own.

"Yeah, well, you could have told me." Before he could respond, the woman got up from her seat, putting the phone to her ear. "Hi, I'm calling to get electricity back on at Devil May Cry?" Her voice faded as he went outside the door, shutting behind her.

That was how the rest of the day went for Dante, and it was starting to freak him out. It seems like it's been this way from he talks with the woman. He found out her name it Norma.

Yet it all didn't feel right to him. It was like it was all off with Norma being there. However, since he wasn't able to prove anything, he went about his day as normal.

Night had rolled around, letting Norma leave for the night, and Dante louging with his feet up on the desk. Not expecting much before bed, Dante let out a loud yawn when his front door opened slowly.

When you walked in it was like the world stopped. despite your almost frantic state, he felt like he was meeting an angel.

"Are you in charge of Devil May Cry?"

God, even your voice sounded melodic. "Yeah. the names Dante. How can I help?"

Even though it was business, the two of you were talking he couldn't help but feel like it was right. Like you were always supposed to be here in Devil May Cry, but by so.e twist of fate you weren't.

Dante was gonna fix that. No matter what it took.

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jokingmisfit · 9 months

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‘First’ Sights Part 1

~Based on season 2 episode 11 Eobard meets the reader for the first time. This is loosely based and does have quite a twist on things.~

Eobard x Reader

Warnings- Mentions of mourning lost love, mentions of betrayal, Reader doesn’t really like Barry, mentions of the reader wanting to die

Part 2 Coming tomorrow!

Sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe. Other times it felt like there was too much to feel, to feel at all.

After losing her husband because of his own betrayal, to watching him get wiped from existence itself, to Barry Allen's insults and berating, to a new Harrison Wells, and back to the prior issues.

She hated. It’s all she could feel anymore. After all, why keep feeling when you could just stop. If only she could stop the hate.

She hated Eobard Thawne. She hated that he was gone.

She hated Barry Allen. She hated the Flash.

She hated Team Flash. She hated Harrison Wells #2.

She hated living. She hated herself. She hated life.

Despite this, she kept fighting. She kept pushing. She stayed with the team and helped in every way she could.

She helped Barry learn to walk again.

She helped Cisco develop new technology.

She helped Harry get his daughter back.

She helped save life after life, still she felt nothing but hate. Every time someone got hurt or cried in her arms, she’d do anything to help; she’d pretend to feel whatever they needed because if she continued like normal maybe, just maybe, she’d be “normal” again.

She played the game well. She played it well enough that none of them noticed the frigid look in her eyes. Ever since him her heart was vacant. She felt hollow and if anyone were to notice the way she was when there were no eyes on her they’d know what she was.

Everyday she grew harder. More and more roughness around her edges. She was a shard of glass. She wondered what would shatter what was left of her broken soul.

That’s what she was wondering when she got the call.

I watched it ring. I always do. I don’t really care who’s in trouble this time, it’s just another thing to do. Another thing to distract me till something else comes to do the same.

It’s a tiring cycle. There was always a way to end this cycle, but I’m too stubborn to give life that kind of satisfaction.

Answering the call, I put it on speaker.

“What is it this time Cisco?”

I hear him sigh shakily, “Um we need you to get here, like now. I don’t have time to explain it, just get here please.”

Before I even answer he’s hung up the phone. I wonder what’s so important he had to call me. They never really do that.

I get in my car and make it to the Lab in 20 minutes. When I walk in I’m met with immediate chaos.

“Where have you been?” Harrison asks, “ Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

I kept walking in as we spoke. “No not really... Cisco called ‘n said I needed to get here then hung up.”

He paused. Stopping me he held me in that spot.

“It’s Thawne, he’s not the same one you remember but one from before he ever came back here.” A beat, “He got pulled in through one of the portals.”

I could feel his eyes ripping through my own. I could feel his hands gently laying on my wrists. I could feel my hands shake in the grip.

My dead husband’s not so dead. I didn’t know what feelings were creeping up on me, but I pushed them down.

I tear my hands away from him with a deep breath. “Why should I care? Hm? You pull me in here just to tell me this-”

Before I can finish he cuts me off. “We called you here because we need you to convince him to help us send him back.”

“That’s stupid,” I say tiredly. “He doesn’t know me. You’ll have a better chance with the Flash asking him.”

“We’re still trying to convince Allen he needs to send Thawne back. And as much as I’m sure it bothers you, he spent years with you enough that he married you.”

“Enough that he lied and faked being someone else? Enough that he threatened to kill me?”

“Honestly, do you think he would have. I can’t imagine spending all that time with someone, being so intimate and not feeling anything.” Harrison says, searching my eyes.

“That’s cause you’re not a sociopath Harrison… Eobard is.” I whisper.

After so much time having all this emotion to hit me so suddenly was making my normal roughness waver. I could see Harrison struggle; he’s never seen me show much emotion, yet here I am slipping up in front of him.

I sigh as he remains silent. “There’s no winning in this… Let’s just get it done with.”

Pursing his lips he nods and walks off.

After a few minutes I get my stuff put up and we head down to the pipeline.

“Why are we keeping him down here? I get doing it before because he didn’t have all his speed back then, but this time… Why doesn’t he just phase through the glass like Barry had Oliver do that one time?” I say skeptically.

Harrison seems to debate what I say for a moment. “I don’t know.”

Not the answer I was expecting from him but I’m not going to argue. I really don’t care all that much. I told Eobard the day he left I never wanted to see him again. I remember he screamed at me; it was a maudlin plea. Point being, if he escapes then I won’t have to see him. He’ll never even know I was here.

Luck never really was on my side however. Walking into the pipeline the first thing my eyes catch is that yellow suit. I assume the only reason he’s standing so purposefully right now is because he heard Harrison and I make our descent to him.

I wanted to look anywhere else but those blue eyes held something far deeper than I had anticipated. He looked like he wanted to eat me whole. He also, however, looked relieved like a man who was finally able to breathe again.

In my attempt to gain some control over the situation I had decided to bring my tablet. After every big bad we catch I do a psychological evaluation to see where they should get placed. That’s why here and now I decided I would play the same role I always had, even if I'm trying to get different results.

He said nothing as Harrison and I stepped closer to the glass cell. After checking the cell's status I nodded for Harrison to leave the room.

I finally spoke. “My name is Y/n. I’m here to do a standard psychological evaluation, the more you comply the quicker I can leave you alone. Please don’t lie,” I say looking into his eyes, “I can tell when you are. If everything is clear we can begin.”

Eobard looked shocked, his blonde eyebrows raising slightly with a hint of a smile.

“Given you’ve said nothing I’m assuming we can begin.” I blink blankly at him. “What’s your full legal name?”

I look up at him. “You already know it, and if you don’t then why would I tell you?” He replies smoothly.

Sighing I roll my eyes. “This isn’t for me, it's to make sure you know it.”

“Please, this idiotic. I expected more from you.” He complains.

Anger fills me as my thin patience unravels. “If you want to get home Eobard I insist you comply. Alright?” I ask sharply.

“Who said I wanted to go back just yet.” Eobard says inquisitively.

“Why wouldn’t you want to go back, you spent quite a bit of time trying to before, now you don't?” I ask back.

He leans on the wall of his cell, settling his arms into place in front of his chest.

“There’s something I need to collect before I can go back. I get it, I leave. Simple as that.”

“What is it that you want from this time period, Thawne?” I question sighing.

“As much as I’d love to tell you, it’s much too soon for that little one.” He smiles, almost, warmly.

The pet-name made me stiff. I remember when he called me that, he only did after we got married, only did it in private. He always said it’s the first pet-name he ever thought of for me, It made me feel sick.

“First, don't call me that.” As hard as I tried my voice still wavered as I spoke. “Second, you aren't getting anything you want while in that cell, so if you really want whatever it is you’re gonna have to go home without it.” I spoke frigidly.

“This little cell isn’t going to stop me, pet, and you know that.” He moves off the wall, smiling.

“Listen, I don’t really care what you want… I just want you to go away.” I look down. “Clearly you’re coherent enough and aware of your surroundings and actions. That's all I needed to chart, so I’ll go ahead and leave you alone.” I say smiling bitterly.

Before he could say more I turned to walk out. I could hear him call for me to come back, could hear him scream my name, but I couldn’t turn around. The tears burned my eyes. I haven’t cried since the night I had officially lost him. I haven’t cried, but here I was running down the halls trying not to completely shatter on the ground.

I made my way up to the roof when I finally took a breath. Shaking I sent a text to Harrison simply stating, ‘he wont leave till he gets something he wont tell me what it is,’ hitting send I decide to send one more message, ‘be careful.’

#eobard thawne x reader #yandere eobard thawne #the flash cw #season 2 episode 11 of the flash #eobard thawne #yandere eobard thawne x reader #reverse flash x reader #reverse flash

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backtothestart02 · 17 days

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FANFIC TAGGING GAME

I got (honorable) tagged by the wonderful @theartofdreaming1- thanks!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? - 321

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,322,068 words (at the moment)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Still writing for The Flash, but every once in a while a new show/movie grabs my fancy and I write a few fics for that.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

An unimpressive bunch but here goes: Muse (456), Replacement Scrunchie (393), Fallen Star (357), Inconvenient Inspiration (343), and Drabbles (277). Muse is a handful of one-shots based solely off spoilers before I saw the eps they were for. Replacement Scrunchie is my sole fic for the TATBILB fandom about Peter & LJ's first date (which was way less impressive than what the sequel movie gave us, WOW). Fallen Star is my most popular westallen fic to date, so that one's actually not too surprising. But both Inconvenient Inspiration and Drabbles are requested (the latter) and spontaneous (the former) brainstorming ficlets and snippets for The Flash/WA. Bo-ring.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Eventually.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh, gosh, I have so many unfinished fics that it's hard to remember the complete ones that I finished that didn't end so happy, of which there aren't many. Maybe...Breaking Point though.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All the others have happy endings. Go read them. Lol.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

When I wrote for another fandom I did, but not really in The Flash fandom, which is nice.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep. And uh...descriptive, I guess? I'm def not the best out there, but I do my best and for the most part smut-lovers seem to enjoy.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I've attempted a couple crossovers, but I haven't completed any or gotten far with them, usually because there wasn't an audience for it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah, I discovered a whole bunch on another website years ago.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

In the process of it!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Stuck on Westallen atm, but I used to write Chair, and I was highly obsessed with them as well.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh god, I have SO MANY WIPs. One that I really want to finish but fear I won't though has got to be He's MY Barry Allen. I'm just stuck on what the next chapter will look like, and as of yet no one has come forward with a solution. Lol. The Problem is Tony Woodward is another one like that.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'd like to think I can hook people into my fics fairly well and drop enough cliffies to keep them coming back for more. But ofc the smut helps too. Most of my fics include at least some smut, even a single scene.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sometimes I have trouble making a chapter (or a scene for that matter) all that long. I've seen people write like 10k+ for a chap, and unless I'm crazy inspired, roughly 1-3k is what you're getting.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I actually dabbled in this a little bit for a westallen fic where Iris was learning Italian, I think? I did some research and managed to sift in enough for that one-shot, but I can't imagine I'd do it repeatedly or for a multi-chap.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I believe it was the STAR WARS prequels, but it might've been The Day After Tomorrow.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

It's unfinished, but there's so much untapped potential in my Flashpoint fic. Lots of world-building that's present as it rides the line between canon divergent and AU. Hopefully one day I'll get back to it.

...

As much as I'd love to tag a bunch of people, I can't recall anyone who still writes fic that I follow on here, so I'll just shout out my bestie @simplylove101 who is prob done with writing but may want to answer these questions either way!

#fanfiction #questions #fic game #fic tagging game #this was fun!

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 1 year

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A Voice Through the Nothingness Part 2

Series Masterlist

Part 1

Contains: Fluff, angst, protective Frank

4.0K words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a voice through the nothingness.

“There’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve just met.” - Jim Henson

Hazel smiled as she sat next to Billy's bed, it had only been a week since she had started reading to him but it had become a welcome moment of peace. She took his hand in hers and placed the next book on the bed, it was Death on the Nile this time, "it looks like we're opening up next week."

Billy was elated, he wanted to cheer but he couldn't. He knew his friends would love Hazel. He could see the meeting in his head, Frank would wrap her in one of his bone crushing bear hugs, Curtis would extend his hand with a smile and Karen would insist on drinks at the bar with Matt and Foggy.

Each time Hazel's voice had floated into his mind and her warm hand linked in his, he had focused all his energy on just one squeeze but so far, it had been fruitless. His frustration grew as he always managed to do it when she wasn't there. Sometimes it was a moment after she left, sometimes it took all day for him to manage a twitch but he was going to do it.

He knew the other voice too, Lizabeth's, and he wondered if she looked as fed up as she always sounded, "you should tell me about your day, he's probably getting sick of your murder mysteries by now."

Hazel huffed, "I don't think he wants to hear that."

"Of course I do." That was all he wanted to say but he couldn't even manage a sound. He wanted far more than what Hazel had said about herself in passing.

Lizzy sighed, "just give him the spark notes, then you can start the book."

Billy heard Lizabeth leave the room and he waited for Hazel's soft voice to fill his ears, "she won't let up until I do," Billy believed it, "well, it started bad because I spilt my coffee and it was the last of what I had at home so I had to brave the subway uncaffeinated. I thought I was going to commit homicide because the person next to me was chewing too loud."

He wanted to laugh, to tell her stories about being stuck in holes with men who behaved like pigs.

"Then I got a call about Barry's fancy food, it's on time so he'll get his clams before he grows legs and lungs and eats me in the middle of the night." Barry was Hazel's pufferfish, although Billy thought she was talking about a dog the first time she spoke of him.

He could say so many things, he wondered if she would be shy or smile and toss him something back.

"And I'm pretty sure a doctor just asked me on a date, I said yes." Billy could hear his huff, a woman that beautiful should know when she's being asked out.

"But he's kinda of ass so I'm just going to be nice and call it an early night. I'm far too busy to date right now, he'll you're the only man who listens to me and you're pretty much in a coma."

Billy could feel a charge in his chest, had he been awake, this would have been easy.

"Now that's enough about me, let's crack open a fresh book and settle in."

****

Billy knew it was coming, that dreaded chime, but he was planning on it. Days of matching each word with the passing seconds until he could count down until the bell rang, "well Billy, I'll be back tomorrow."

For the last twenty minutes, he put all his attention into just closing his hand. He thought it was another failed attempt as he felt Hazel's hand leave him but his hand ached and his fingers shifted and she paused.

Billy waited for her dismissal but it never came, "can you do that again?" He had a feeling that was coming and put every ounce of willpower into fulfilling her request. He must have done it because he felt her jump.

"Ok, alright. I going to get Lizzy in here, umm" Hazel's hand slipped for his briefly and he heard the call bell, "in a bit, Lizzy's going to swap with me. If you're doing this intentionally you need to squeeze her hand too, that's all I want you to focus on."

He steeled himself, just a little longer and he could rest. He heard footsteps, "what is it?" Lizabeth sounded worried.

"He squeezed my hand and I got him to do it again, I'm pretty sure this isn't just a reflect." Hazel sounded so hopeful, he wasn't going to disappoint her.

He could almost feel Lizzy waving her hand, "give him ere, Russo, I know we're not on as good of terms but can you let me know you're not bullshitting?"

Billy liked this woman, her hand was different from Hazel's, still warm and soft but different. He focused on Lizabeth's hand in his, going over his fingers as he willed them to move, "holy shit you're right."

Lizzy's hand was gone and Hazel's was back, "I'm going to go get the Neruo, you stay right there."

He was so proud of himself, it had taken every bit of his strength but he got to hear joy in Hazel's voice. "You won't need to do any more today, they'll let you have some time to get your strength back but they'll want to do some tests. I'll stay until the docs get here and when I get back tomorrow, we'll pick up where we left off. You did really good Billy. Your friends are going to be so proud of you."

The next few hours were a blur of tests and doctors. Hazel was right, they didn't ask him to do anything else but they talked him through everything. Just when he thought he couldn't take any more, it stopped and he was finally left in the peace he needed to prepare for the next day.

****

Hazel came in the next day with excitement in her voice, her hand sliding into his with a familiar warmth, "today's going to be a lot of work but I know you can do it. The docs are going be in here with us are they're going ask you some yes, no questions. All you have to do is show me what those answers feel like and we'll go from there."

He gave her a quick squeeze, "ok, you've got this, don't worry. And if you don't feel like it today, we can try again tomorrow."

There were footsteps, ones he had learned well in all his time at the hospital, "Hello Mr Russo, I'm doctor Waston, I think you've heard my voice before. Can you show Hazel what a yes is?"

He focused on holding on for a second longer than he had been, "yes?" He did it again, "ok Dr, long squezze for yes."

Now that his brain had a mission, it felt like his thoughts were racing and he tried to visualise things he wanted.

"Can you show Miss Moreau a no?" Billy

Billy's brain was working overtime now that he had her last name, he could focus on learning more about her. All he needed to do was get it to Frank. He clenched his hand and let go as fast as he could manage, "ok, short for no, can you do it again to let me know?" Billy was anxious to get this moving.

Hazel's voice grew clearer by the second, "yep, short squeeze for no." There was a pause and Billy thought he could hear something being passed to Hazel, "do you remember where we first met?"

He imagined clasping her hand in his as they walked down the street, hoping the vision would keep his fingers tensed, "yes. Was it on boat?" He released his hand and gave her a short squeeze.

"Was it on a train platform?" He was sitting across for her at the table inside the chocolate shop she had told him about. Hazel inhaled, "yes, good work Billy. You don't have long left now and then we'll let you rest. I'm going you ask some questions about your time here and I need to tell me if you remember, can you do that?" When the doctor realised that Billy was ready to communicate, they called his friends for questions they could ask him about conversations they had throughout Billy's stay.

He was still sitting in the chocolate shop. Hazel had a foam moustache and a fleck of chocolate on her plump lower lip, "do you remember when Frank told you about the new iPhone?"

Of course he did, Frank wouldn't shut up about how stupid it was, "that's good. Do you remember when you moved here? Frank and Curt were with you, they told you all about the room." He thought for a moment, white walls, lots of flowers, the nurses were dressed in light blue scrubs.

Billy searched his brain for something else, he was dancing with her at a fundraiser, she had carnations in her hair and her fingers were laced in his, "Great, that's really good Billy."

There was quiet for a moment, "I'm not asking him that, I think we should take a break." Hazel sounded angry, he didn't like it.

"Of course, I told you we'd take you lead on this."

But Billy didn't want to stop, he wanted to prove he could handle anything. He clenched his hand and then let go, hoping Hazel would pick up on what he was saying, there was a pause before she spoke, "ok Billy, I understand. Do you remember what happened the night you were hurt?"

As Billy tried to find the memories, he felt his heart race and then suddenly he couldn't feel Hazel's hand, all he could feel was agony, searing pain and breaking bones and the sound of Frank screaming his name over an unbearable ringing. Things faded fast, the darkness of pain dissolving to just darkness, he was grateful that the last thing he felt was Hazel's hand on his cheek.

****

Billy didn't sleep at all that night, the moment his awareness returned, it was like he couldn't stop his heart racing. All he wanted to do was open his eyes, to ground himself in the real world rather than the one that was pounding on the inside of his skull.

Waiting for Hazel's late afternoon visit was torture, he had spent his spare moments learning the sounds of everyone's footsteps, and Hazel's was by far his favourite.

Her hello made his heart skip, she had good news, "Hello Billy, I have good news and better news. The good news is that they're going to move you into one of the rebab rooms so you'll have more people to talk to, the better news is that the hospital will be open for visitors on Sunday."

He clenched his hand, hoping that the long press gave away that he was happy, "alright, now that we can talk, I can ask you if you want me to keep going with our murder mystery train, so you wanna pick up where we left off with Agatha?"

No, Billy didn't want that, he wanted to hear about her, he wanted to know how her date with the doctor went. He closed his hand then let go, "alright then, I'm hearing you loud and clear. We can figure this out, do you want to watch some TV? Your plan has all the channels."

Billy gave her another short squeeze, the frustration made him want to punch something. He racked his brain for an idea, combing through his thoughts until something popped up. He focused all his energy on lifting his thumb before tapping her skin quickly twice and once for longer, dot dot dash. He did it again, Hazel was an intelligent woman, she would understand that he was trying to do something even if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"Billy, are you using morse code?" He closed his hand hard, "ok, ok. U?" He could almost see her thinking, "oh, you want to hear about me?"

There was surprise in her voice, Billy couldn't decide if he liked that sound because, of course, he wanted to hear about her, "ok. Well I gave Barry his clams and he made a huge mess of his tank so I'm trying to teach him how to clean up, it's not going well. I tried a new coffee too, it's called rainbow bark roast, it's alright but I think I'm going to sign up for one the those subscription services where they send you different beans every month."

Billy wanted to tell her about the coffee he had at Anvil, about how his first frivolous purchase was an expensive coffee machine that looked like something off a steampunk spaceship. He was surprised at all the small things he wanted to share with Hazel, the little parts of his life he never thought mattered to anyone but he knew that would have mattered to her.

"Oh and I went on that date, not date, I told you about." He was happy at the disappointment in her tone, "it went exactly how I expected it to go, he talked about himself nonstop and then complained about the wine being too floral. I mean we all know wine tasting is bullshit, it's just fermented grape juice, I'd rather drink whiskey."

She liked whiskey, Billy thought to himself. There was a bar a few blocks away from Anvil that she'd love if he could only tell her about it. "You look like a guy Gin guy, I've never been able to get into it, it kinda smells like the ER on a busy friday."

He squeezed her hand then let go and she laughed, that was a sound he did like, "no? Then what do you like?"

He struck a blank, he knew what W was, he just couldn't remember it, "just take your time, all I need is a few letters." All the happy feelings vanished, he couldn't remember something as fucking simple as a letter. It didn't matter, Hazel was there with a solution.

"We can figure it out together. B for bourbon is one dash then three dots," he knew that, "S for scotch is three dots," he knew that too, "and W is.."

It came to him in a flash and he tapped it out as fast as he could, "there you go. Does that mean you're a whiskey man?"

He imagined sitting next to her on the couch, her hand in his while he enjoyed a quiet night with a glass in his hand, "ahh, a man after my own heart. You're pretty smart, you know, it would have never occurred to me to ask you to try Morse code. I have an idea, how about we got through the whole alphabet together? That was when you're friends can visit, you don't have to think so hard. Does that sound good to you?"

He hoped the force of his squeeze let her know all on its own, "great, let's start at the beginning."

****

It was slow going, but being able to tap words out opened up a whole new world. Hazel was fantastic at putting small things together. She learned Billy liked watching MMA, and the next day, she had the rundowns of all the fights that had been on since the lockdown. He was getting stronger, too, and he was slowly getting better at expressing his feelings through how hard he would squeeze her hand.

Billy's favourite times were when he got to talk about his friends, Anvil and all the places he had been. The information he could give was basic, as much as he wanted to pour his heart out, it was hard when it sometimes took him twenty minutes to tap out a seven letter word. That didn't matter to Hazel, she was always patient with him, he never felt like he couldn't answer her but she always gave him just enough of a challenge and helped him rise to it.

Sunday came in what felt like hours but Hazel never entered his room. He held on for visit her all day and the joy of hearing his friends did little to overcome her absence. Nevertheless, Frank's hand in his dulled the ache.

"Hey Bill, it's good to see you again, although from what your nurses said, you had plenty of company while we were away."

Billy wanted to tell Frank all about Hazel and once again, the frustration at his limitations was back. If he couldn't tell Frank, he would have to show him. He tapped out her name as fast as he could and Frank's laugh filled his ears, "oh, so you haven't seen me in two months and the first thing you want me to do is get your new best friend, that's cold Bill."

There was no malice in Frank's voice and the chime of the call bell filled him with hope. Lizzy's footsteps followed and Billy's heart fluttered, "yes Mr Castle, what can I get for you?"

Frank chuckled, "can you go get Hazel? Billy's asking for her."

Lizzy smiled, "I can, she'll be taking her break soon."

Billy heard her leave the room, and Frank's voice filled the space, "we were really glad to hear you had someone with you. Karen was trying to get in here without getting us into shit, but all she could come up with was a story on the hospital's cafe."

Hazel had told him about it, he knew that story wouldn't be a good one.

Frank's tone changed just as he finished telling Billy all about how Anvil was going and Frank's hand shifted from his as he stood up. "You must be Hazel?"

Billy's body filled with anticipation, "I am. It's so good to finally meet you. Billy speaks very highly of you."

Frank chuckled, "oh, I'm sure he does. I can I ask where you were today? Lizzy told me you're normal here in the afternoons."

Billy wanted to hit him, Frank was going to scare her off, "oh, I didn't want to intrude, I'm sure you two have so much to talk about."

Billy could hear a chair moving then Hazel's hand appeared in his free one, it was a strange sensation, she always sat on his left side.

"So Hazel, tell me about yourself." Billy understood where Frank was coming from but it didn't stop him from wanting to kick the shit out of him.

Hazel felt like Frank was trying to look into her soul, "there's not much to tell, I work in the peds ward which is just through the door and across the sky bridge, I live in Hell's kitchen and I have a fish named Barry."

"Why not work at Mercy if you live in Hell's Kitchen?" Billy was growing worried that Hazel would feel like Frank was judging her.

"I work with kids, Mercy's peds ward is pretty basic, plus I have some qualifications that fit better here."

Billy could tell Hazel didn't like where this was going, there was something in her tone that worried him, "I don't mean to be rude because you've done a lot for Bill but why did you want to help him?"

Hazel's hand left him and Billy felt powerless to do anything, "I met Billy on my first day in the city. Without his help, I would have spent the whole day lost. I never got the chance to thank him."

"So you did all this just for a few minutes of his time two years ago." Frank realised his slipup far too late

Billy felt the change in the air, "wait, how did you know it was two years ago?" Billy's thoughts were racing, the last thing he needed was for Hazel to be scared of him, where the fuck was Curt? He would have handled this so much better. "it was nice meeting you, Mr Castle but I think I better head back to work. I'm sure I can see Billy some time tomorrow."

Billy could tell she was scared and doing her best to hide it, he hoped to God Frank understood his as he clenched his hand and let go. Frank's chuckle filled the air, "that right Bill?" He did it again, "stay please. I'm sorry, you gotta see where I'm coming from?"

The tension faded from Billy's body and her warmth returned to his hand, "of course. It doesn't take a genius to know that Billy has a lot of money and you don't want someone you don't know taking advantage of your friend. I'm telling the truth when I say that all I want is to repay his kindness."

She sounded sad, Billy hated it, "that's all I wanted to hear. I probably wasn't the best person to do this, Curt's much better at the people thing than I am."

Hazel laughed, "yeah, I thought I was about to get yelled at. No offence."

Billy could feel the tension leave the room as they both relaxed, "none taken. Bill wants you to stay and so I do, plus you still gotta meet everyone else."

Hazel let out a nervous giggle, "Billy have me the rundown on everyone, Karen's your partner and Curt's your friend. There's also Matt and Foggy, and David and his family am I right?"

Frank nodded, "yeah, that's about it. We'll have to get you over to Avnil too, some of the guys want to thank you for all you've done."

Billy squeezed Frank's hand, hoping it was hard enough to hurt him just a little and Frank huffed, "you can't keep her all to yourself Bill."

If Billy could punch him, he would. "When do you need to do back to your shift?"

Hazel's absence didn't seem so bad now that he knew she was going to keep coming back, "twenty minutes but I'll be back at around six for my two hours with him."

"That's great, Curt and Karen will be here when they get off work. They can't wait to meet you."

Billy was suddenly unbelievably tired, the anxiety and fear fading to exhaustion, "the feeling is mutual."

When Billy came to again, he could hear more voices, all filled with affection.

"How did you manage to work out talking to him in Morse code?" Of course, Karen would ask that.

"It was all Billy, I was just there to catch it." Billy wanted to chastise her, she was the one who gave him the time of day and her faith, he wouldn't have been able to do it all by himself.

"We'll have to have you over for dinner, Sarah's been insisting that we should at least bring you lunch the moment the hospital reopen." He hoped Curt would be more subtle but he knew how it would go with the others, Frank would grunt out a request and Karen would give a demand that sounded like an invitation.

"Thank you for the offer but I couldn't possibly intrude. Maybe when Billy is up and moving around, we can revisit it." Hazel sounded a little taken aback.

"Of course, but I'm sure Billy's going to be more insistent than us." Billy was glad Curt didn't push it, he was smart enough to know that things couldn't get too personal or the ethics board was going to start pocking around, he had a plan for that but now wasn't the time.

Billy wasn't upset when the chime came, "Sadly, I have to head home but I'll be back tomorrow."

Hazel's hand left his, "you can't stay?"

Billy wanted to laugh, he knew Frank would warm to her quickly, "no, I can't stay on hospital grounds any longer," she paused, "I can rearrange my day tomorrow so we can talk more if you like?"

"Sounds good, we'll see you tomorrow."

Billy didn't know how to put his feelings into words, but he had a new mission, open his eyes and say hello.

Part 3

#a voice through the nothingness #billy russo #the punisher #fix it fic #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo smut #ben barnes #the punisher fanfiction #billy russo x ofc #frank castle #karen page #everybody lives/nobody dies #curtis hoyle #daredevil

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yeyinde · 1 year

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Hi I am here to ask for guidance and help if you will. I'm writing a story about Price with a single mother reader but im really struggling on his characterization. I was hoping maybe you could give me some key details? (Please I've been watching scenes with just him in it for help)

hiya! this idea sounds absolutely amazing, so i'll do my best to help as much as i can! 🤩 i'm always down to talk about Price.

if it's easier, you can always DM me for more headcanons if you'd like! and i do have a SFW alphabet coming out tomorrow on him!

i read an article from Barry where he said:

"He's a storm coming. There's visceral fucking rage and energy when required [...] There's a softness at times, when he's checking in on certain people, sometimes with Farah. There's a humour to him as well, and I wanted to make sure we felt the human element that perhaps wasn't there before. But when he's required for business, there's a complete fucking shift."

and this entire thing right here set the standard for my characterisation and my take on Price!! it's the thing i come back to the most when i'm debating on what he would do/say in a particular situation.

but for a deep dive:

a very traditional man who's home life growing up was quite bad, and so a part of him yearns for his own family, but he'll never take. never pursue.

he always puts himself in the role of the villain (the one willing to get his hands dirty to spare others the same). he's quite cold on the battlefield and off: very mercurial and quick tempered. i see him def as having unresolved anger issues (and perhaps ones he can't resolve due to the nature of his job; when everything is a state secret, can you really see a therapist? if they have appointed therapists, how much of what he divulges will be reported if he's too honest?).

he's always burning hot, quick to agitate. but he isn't a hothead. for me, i see him as viewing himself as this surly, gruff man. no nonsense. utilitarian to the core. working class man with working class values.

but beneath all of that, i imagine he's quite lonely. not sad lonely, but a man who is hesitant to get close to anyone because once you chisel under his defences (and there are MANY), he is quite a teddy bear.

i think loving Price is battle. it isn't easy, and he won't make it so (he's stubborn, old-fashioned, and hardened with scar tissue so thick he can't remember when he last felt something touch his raw skin); he'll push you away constantly.

if he ever confessed to you, it would be a laundry list of his faults. full stop. he wants you to know what you're getting into: the bad, the ugly, and the terrible. he won't ever try to sway you - even if he so desperately wanted to, so there would be no grand declarations of love (not until you carve a hole inside of his thick walls big enough for you to slip through; then he's quite a clumsy romantic), or reason why you should pick him. it'll be full of reasons why you shouldn't.

on the outside: stubborn, practical, surly, gruff. on the inside, hidden behind walls and walls of grief and loss and hurt and fear: giving, greedy (in the sense that he will want all of you: no more, no less; this greed stops him from pushing for more because he doesn't want you to feel trapped like his mum), and protective.

the biggest thing stopping him from taking, from pursuing what he wants? that he's just like his father.

he's basically a sour bear. gruff and grizzled, but as soft as he can he when he finally opens up! he won't be waxing poetic, but he'll show you he cares by opening up to you. by taking you to places that have meaning to him.

and that's sort of my general personality overhaul of Price! i really hope this helps, but my interpretation of him is not canon. so, what i infer from his dialogue lines is subjective, and if you don't agree, that's perfectly fine! just write him however makes you the most comfortable!!! 🖤

#another super wordy one omggg #i was put on time out and now I can't shut up #someone needs to be over my shoulder saying 'shut up levada!!' whenever i do the most #i hope this was okay op!!!

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vexic929 · 1 month

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Minutes to Midnight

An angsty but also fluffy fic for Barry's birthday, info on Beth here

OCs are mine but based on The Flash characters

Beth fiddled with the pen in her lap idly, staring at the clock as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just a few minutes. It was silly, she thought, sitting here waiting as though the moment the clock struck midnight, Barry would wake up. He probably wouldn't. No, he definitely wouldn't, she reminded herself. It had been four months with no change and there was no sign of him waking anytime soon. Be reasonable.

She definitely wasn't being reasonable. Sitting around waiting to wish your brother a happy birthday when he wasn't even remotely aware of the passage of time was decidedly unreasonable. But she couldn't help it. It was something they'd done every year since they were small, when they would sneakily stay up together to count the seconds until the clock struck midnight. They'd roped Iris into the tradition too, when they'd moved in with the Wests, and Beth wondered if Iris was awake at home right now, doing the same thing.

"Knock knock." Cisco's voice drifted from the doorway and Beth looked up, shooting him a small, forced smile.

"Hey." She greeted. Cisco crossed the room and pulled up a chair next to her, prompting Beth to finally unfold herself into a more proper sitting position. She gestured vaguely to the clock. "It's, um...his birthday is tomorrow...well, in a few minutes really, so..." She shrugged, trailing off. Cisco nodded.

"Yeah, I know. I was just coming to check on you. Thought you could use some company." He said. Beth's smile softened a little and she reached out to take his hand. He squeezed it gently.

"Thanks. I appreciate it." She said quietly. "I just can't help feeling like...like I should be doing something more."

"More? You've been here every day, I don't think you'd ever leave if you could help it." Cisco said. His tone was light but Beth ducked her head anyway, feeling guilty.

"Yeah, I know. But I keep thinking...maybe if I did something different or tried something else, or-or maybe-"

"Beth." Cisco interrupted before she could spiral. "You couldn't have done anything to change what happened. None of us could." Beth swallowed hard and nodded, squeezing Cisco's hand tighter.

"I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing him like this...it's not how he's supposed to be. God, I...I wish you'd met him before. He's so smart and funny and brave and kind and I just..." Beth trailed off and Cisco laced their fingers together instead, running his thumb over the backs of Beth's knuckles soothingly.

"Hey, don't think like that. I'll still meet him, whenever he wakes up." He said firmly. Beth sniffled, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I know you will. He's going to love you." She said, sighing softly. "I'm just...he might be a completely different person, if - when - he wakes up. There's so many variables, the lightning could have impaired his memory or personality or-"

"Stop." Cisco interrupted and she looked up, finally meeting his gaze. "Don't do that. Don't think about the unknowns or the what-ifs, okay? Let Caitlin worry about that. You just need to be here for him. And I'll be here for you." He promised, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Beth leaned over and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss, trying to let Cisco's words halt her spiraling thoughts. Her watch beeped, letting her know midnight had finally arrived and she pulled back, resting her head on Cisco's shoulder again and glancing back at Barry, still as ever, on the hospital bed.

"Happy birthday, Barr." She whispered, heart heavy. "Wake up soon, okay?"

#did I name it after my favorite Linkin Park album? yes #also I know his birthday was yesterday ignore that lol #vexic lives #vexic writes #vexic ocs #beth allen #cisco x beth #earth-150 #earth 150 #e150

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barry-j-blupjeans · 1 year

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Ise can you write an ise cube about Barry and Lup participating in No Necromancy November

Lup had been going to the kitchen. Honestly! She hadn't been able to sleep- something she was blaming on the giant, ever-screaming squirrels outside her window this cycle- and wanted to make some pancakes. Pancakes made everything better, she was pretty sure. Maybe she could have made a big one and thrown it out at them to get them to shut up for just like, just a second! But instead, she had snuck down the hallway and, accidentally, not on purpose, ended up in the lab.

Was there a big sign on the door telling her not to go in? Yes. Davenport had put it up yesterday after she and Barry had, uh... redecorated the lab with their necromancy experiment. That was barely even necromancy anyway if you went with the textbook definition. Had he asked explicitly that she stay away from the lab for at least a month, or until they found the Light? Yes.

But. But! Lup left... coffee. In there. She left coffee in there. Yes, that's what she was going with.

The lab was dark and Lup didn't bother turning on the light because she had dark vision, anyway. It was only going to be a few seconds. Minutes, maybe, if she struggled to remember where the cup was. But then she came face to face with the whiteboard of the theories she and Barry had drafted out and she couldn't just leave it up there. She had to erase that or Davenport would be upset.

But it'd be a shame to erase it before they were finished. And honestly, it wouldn't take that long. A few minutes, at most! Maybe half an hour, in total.

It must have only been twenty minutes before the door of the lab opened again. Lup immediately stretched across the counter towards her coffee cup- which she was getting to!- covering the project she had been finishing up. It was meant to look like she was just reaching over for the cup, but her arms weren't that long, she was half on the counter with her legs dangling off the side when the light flicked on.

"Just getting my coffee, Dav!" Lup said. But it wasn't Davenport at all.

It was Barry.

He stared at her for a moment. His hair was mussed like he had been tossing and turning in bed. Lup sagged against the counter and started to pull back. Barry seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and came further in, carefully shutting the door behind him. Lup, who was now completely off the counter, raised her hand in greeting.

"I, uh," Barry said. "Came to get your coffee. To wash the cup."

"Right," Lup said. "Get a labcoat on, Barold."

"Yeah, okay," Barry said, grabbing one from the hanger near the door. He grabbed a pair of goggles, too. "What'cha working on?"

"Barney," Lup said, showing Barry the dead frog they had collected from outside. One of the giant squirrels had gotten to it and the insides were all ripped up. Two nights ago, Barry had made it a top hat, which it was still wearing.

"Ah," Barry said, getting some gloves too. "Is he tap-dancing yet?"

"Not quite," Lup said. "More of a slow dance. And by slow dance I mean he's literally not moved. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"Lemme take a crack at it," Barry said. Lup slid the dish over to him and he squinted at it. Lup leaned back on the counter to watch him.

A bad thing about being secretly in love with someone is that Lup did just tune out everything else around her when she was watching him. One time, Taako had just kept handing her things to see how long it would take her to notice and it had taken her a, frankly, embarrassing long time to realize. This time, she forgot to process the words Barry was saying as he said them. It was only when he turned to her that she realized those words were directed at her.

"Lup?" he said.

"Oh," Lup said. "Uh, yeah? What's crackin', babe?"

She had it so, so bad.

"I-" Barry did a little laugh, sort of breathless. At least she had charm. "I was trying to ask if you, uh, wanted to come back tomorrow night as well? Obviously, if someone asks, we weren't here-"

"Dav's really put us in a fuckin' No Necromancy November challenge, huh?" Lup said. Barry wheezed and then immediately slapped his hand over his mouth to cover the noise. Lup grinned. "But yeah, I mean, I'd be down to come back tomorrow. And totally not do any necromancy. Whatsoever."

"Y- yeah," Barry said, with barely constrained laughter. "None- none at all. I don't even know what necromancy is."

"I think it's a spice," Lup said. "Y'know like, put a little necromancy in this pumpkin pie-"

Barry had to hide his face in his hands for that one. His laugh, even though he was trying very hard to conceal it, was adorable. He was adorable. That's what Davenport didn't understand about banning them from the lab. Like, they were gonna do this anyway, because otherwise, Lup wouldn't know what the fuck to say to get Barry to hang out with her. Phrasing it as "let's go make a dead frog tapdance" was a lot easier than saying "hey, can you hang out with me because you're super hot and I love you?"

A lab ban was like a Lup and Barry ban. And, as she watched Barry struggle to stay quiet in the bright fluorescent lights, Lup decided that that simply wouldn't do.

#blupjeans #barry bluejeans #lup #taz #taz balance #mine #asks #anon #ise cube writing #sdlkfsd anon i want to let u know that this ask has been Haunting me the whole work day #thank you

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faunandfloraas · 3 months

Text

Here's A Little Get-To-Know-You Tag Game!

Tagged by: @noonaracha and @hhnquokka thanks for the tag you beauts!

Name(s): Jess

Pronouns: she/they

Star Sign: capricorn

# of Siblings & Fun Facts About Them (if you have any): One older brother but I also have two older cousins who lived with us a couple different times and then I have more cousins who would pretty much come around every weekend as well :)

# of Pets: 2 cats, Tigs who is 16 and has a very loud and a stray we call Tab/Barry/Lil kitty I rescued from the street last year and shes the funniest lil cat around. And a dog named Clancy we saved from a disgraced jockey who had a cocaine habit and also hoarded dogs and he looks just like a dog that would come from those circumstances

Fandoms: Stray Kids is The Thing for me right now, I was big into rgg/yakuza for a while though and also i've been watching a cdrama I Need to gif so that's the main thing rn :)

Favourite Colour: Today... custard baby pastel yellow. Tomorrow? who knows.

Favourite Song: I dont really do favourites because.... idk I have many favourites, therefore I kinda have none, if that makes sense. For today though I'll say Hate to admit by mr cb97 himself bc.... oh it feels very relatable to me in this moment lmao

Favorite Author: Emily Bronte. But didn't she only have one book? Well yes but it was a good book. and also her vibes were impeccable. to me.

Hobbies: my longest one is painting and drawing... I would like to try and do my skz art this year! I was painting Chan before so :dmirk: I like baking and cooking, i love to try new cuisines, i like going to nerd ass anime conventions, i like walking everyday, got into gaming during 2020.... uh yeah Oh i like collecting shit but also its a bad habit more than a hobbie lmao

Favourite Holiday: Halloween... it was never a thing much as kid here but its more popular now. Walk around, wear a costume, get some lollies, spooky stories- sounds good to me.

Do You Have Any Partner(s)?: I have chronic deadly singles disease, the 2 times I was not inflicted with this ended very... Badly. so maybe the deadly singles disease is for the best lmao

Fun facts about you/anything extra you wanna share!: I think I shared too much but 😂they put me on a higher dose of my adhd meds which might explain why I just wrote so much lmao

I'll tag my beloveds @chanrizard @inloif @blueprintchan @comflexing @sesuavity @linoguy @wantbytaemin @sternburgerpilsner @haenglixie @rainknow

#tag game #yeah :).

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ceilingfan5 · 1 year

Text

@taznovembercelebration knife?? i guess

Barry adjusts the focus on the camera, which is a full excuse to stare at Lup. He’s torn, is the thing, torn to shreds, practically, from ethical dilemma to mulch for flesh-eating plants in a flesh-eating garden. She could be his target. But he can’t be sure. Partially because the world goes rosy and sweet and sticky like Koolaid in a humidifier when he looks at her.

Which means she’s definitely the monster. Some kind of…who-knows-what. Something’s been killing and eating stupids around here, and is it so terrible that he’s tempted to be one of them? It’s not just how pretty she is–the other ladies are pretty too, handpicked and gorgeous, with honeyed smiles that disguise acid inside–but Lup is…well, she’s…she’s really just…

Gosh. He must be some kind of bewitched, because every time she talks to him, he wants to float away on his Sharkleberry Fin scented cloud, and die consumed by some kind of creaturebeast.

If he had to pick though, you know. Like. Obviously getting feasted upon is less than ideal. But. Listen. He’s got eyes, right? Who could really blame her for gorging on his flesh? But that’s if she’s actually a monster, which is the dilemma. She could just be a very beautiful lady, whom he has been staring at with an unnerving frequency, even with the camera-guy disguise.

What’s he supposed to do, flip down his ID and declare his presence as a monster hunter? It’s not like he’s a Fed. He’s a freelancer. He didn’t exactly take the monster hunter courses in college and get a BS in monster hunting and graduate with honors from Fuck Those Monsters Right Up University. He stumbled into the beyond-human speed and strength and impulsivity ass-backwards, and he’s been regretting it ever since. Even if he’s saved a lot of lives.

He kind of wishes he was just a camera guy. And not just because of the models.

The rehearsal for the fashion show tomorrow night wraps up, and the ladies head backstage to un-hot glue themselves from the sequined jokes they’re passing off as clothing. All of them except one. Barry sighs, and readies himself for battle, in the least assuming way possible, checking the digitals and trying to look like an oblivious nerd.

Lup slams her hand down on the table with his equipment laid out, with a lot of fucking force. Monster? Or pissed model defending her team? Does she think he’s a creep? Oh, shit. Barry blinks at her, fiercely chewing on the decision to pull the machete out of his jacket. It’s kind of a bad look, but if she’s a hydra or gorgon or something, he’s fucked if he’s not quick.

“What’s the, hello?” Barry manages, surely looking spooked.

“Don’t you fucking what’s the hello me, asshole,” she snarls. Yeah, shit, she thinks he’s a creep. Wait, that’s a good thing? Scuse me, ma’am, are you a monster or no? It’s time sensitive. “You’re not from the company. You’ve been skulking around.”

“I don’t skulk,” Barry defends, not whines. Totally not whines, in the most embarrassed fashion.

“You’ve been skulking! You’re the fucking vampire!” And gods know where she gets it from, but she’s suddenly got a long, sharp stake in her hand. “And I’m going to take care of this right now!”

Barry blinks. He examines the stake. He starts to shake with laughter. She doesn’t appreciate this, and lunges for him, but he grapples her, and they trade blows super-humanly fast, back and forth, her pushing him back toward the stage, him driving her forward- maybe this is dorky, but he imagines some intense battle music, although it would absolutely be ruined with-

“I’m not the vampire, I promise!”

“That’s what a fucking vampire would say!”

“I’m the one looking for the vampire, alright??”

“You are the fuck not,” Lup snarls, “I am!”

“Well I’m not the fucking- can we- can we stop fighting? JEsus, I- I’m serious, I’m a monster hunter, I- I thought you were the-”

“ME??” Lup is very offended by this. There go his chances. His microscopic, mitochondria-sized chances. The powerhouse of the hard sell. “I’m not the fucking vampire!”

“That’s what a- Ow!” Okay, maybe he deserved that one, but at least after stabbing him, she can watch him heal like a monster hunter, and not a camera creep. Her mouth drops. Her stake drops, also, which is kind of the important bit. Barry can almost hear the record scratch.

“Huh,” she says, after a long pause. “You’re not bullshitting me.”

“Nope,” he says. “I guess we’re both- I mean, it’s been a while since I, you know, I don’t meet a lot of…people like me.”

“Me either,” she says, looking at him funny, like she’s trying to do algebra to solve for why he exists in the same plane she does. Barry can’t help her there, honestly. “Why’d you think I was the vampire?”

“Uhh,” Barry says. “Um. Clues. Evidence. That sort of thing.” Being totally entranced by you. No big deal.

“Mhm,” Lup says. “You know, camera guy, you’re really not selling your innocence here. I wanna know-”

She’s cut off by a high-pitched scream. They look at each other with wild eyes–

“If I’m not the vampire and you’re not the vampire-”

“Who’s flying the plane?”

And even as they’re bolting off to save a life or die trying, he can swear she’s laughing at his stupid joke.

#fics #blupjeans #taz #tazb #taz b #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #taznc

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pluckyredhead · 1 year

Note

as someone looking to get into the Supergirl comics, what titles/runs would you recommend? I started reading Tom King's Woman of Tomorrow and didn't think it was that bad (though I never finished it) but seeing people's anger about it makes me think that my enjoyment might be because I'm not familiar with her character before this and thus don't get why it's a bad take on her like what I've seen.

Well, first I should disclaimer that my very loud opinions on Woman of Tomorrow are opinions, lol. I firmly believe that I'm right but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy it! You're allowed!

But here are my recs for comics to get into Supergirl that feel...more in keeping with the spirit of the character, imo.

In Continuity:

Supergirl (2005) #34-59: After dying in Crisis on Infinite Earths, Kara came back to the post-Crisis DCU in 2004. For the next four years, she was treated very badly by DCU, who positioned her as a jailbait sexpot "bad girl" who was maybe evil but also totally wanted to date you, 45-year-old cis guy in the audience! Sterling Gates and Jamal Igle's run changed all that, letting Kara be three dimensional and human (well, Kryptonian, but you know what I mean) and not miserable softcore porn 24/7. (They put bike shorts under her skirt and it was wildly controversial.) She gets to smile and be friends with women! It was a breath of fresh fucking air, I tell you what.

Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes: During those years DC was treating Kara like shit, we could at least escape to the future, where Mark Waid and Barry Kitson let her be her best self. This is an ensemble book so it's not totally focused on her, but the whole ensemble is pretty great.

Supergirl (2011): Honestly, I thought the New 52 run was pretty solid. Or maybe it's just less bad than every other New 52 comic I've ever read? Either way, it's an easy jumping-on point. And there are actually female writers and artists involved!!! AMAZING! (In the interest of full disclosure, the 2005 series had a couple of female creators towards the very end - Kelly Sue DeConnick and Amy Reeder each got a couple of issues - but they sadly didn't have a lot of time to do much with the character.)

Supergirl (2016): Cute! Cheery! Too good for this world! This takes a lot of inspiration from the TV show, which was on the air at the time.

Kids Comics/AUs/Elseworlds:

Adventures of Supergirl: This is a tie-in comic to the TV show, but you don't need to be super familiar with the show to read it. And Sterling Gates is back!

Supergirl: Being Super: This is a standalone graphic novel in which Kara, who doesn't know about Clark or that she's an alien, discovers her powers after her friend dies in a tragic accident. It's definitely on the angsty side but in a way that feels relatable and compassionate to me, rather than gratuitous. And it's by Mariko Tamaki and Joelle Jones, so it's fucking stunning, of course.

Supergirl: Cosmic Adventures in the Eighth Grade: This is for kids but it is SO STINKIN' CUTE. Highly recommended.

Superman Family Adventures: Also for kids and I cry happy tears at how precious it is every day.

Not Actually Kara:

Supergirl (1996): So after Kara died in 1985 and before she came back in 2004, there was a completely different Supergirl named Linda Danvers. She wasn't from Krypton, she was a mortal girl merged with a protoplasmic being from an alternate dimension who was also an angel. YES, IT'S BONKERS, AND IT'S GREAT. This series is 80 issues long and it's the best Supergirl comic ever published. I know it's not Kara, but if you only read one Supergirl comic, make it this one.

#supergirl #kara zor el #linda danvers #comics recs

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dark-kingdom-stan-account · 6 months

Note

According to all known laws

of aviation,

there is no way a bee

should be able to fly.

Its wings are too small to get

its fat little body off the ground.

The bee, of course, flies anyway

because bees don't care

what humans think is impossible.

Yellow, black. Yellow, black.

Ooh, black and yellow!

Let's shake it up a little.

Barry! Breakfast is ready!

Ooming!

Hang on a second.

Hello?

- Barry?

- Adam?

- Oan you believe this is happening?

- I can't. I'll pick you up.

Looking sharp.

Use the stairs. Your father

paid good money for those.

Sorry. I'm excited.

Here's the graduate.

We're very proud of you, son.

A perfect report card, all B's.

Very proud.

Ma! I got a thing going here.

- You got lint on your fuzz.

- Ow! That's me!

- Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000.

- Bye!

Barry, I told you,

stop flying in the house!

- Hey, Adam.

- Hey, Barry.

- Is that fuzz gel?

- A little. Special day, graduation.

Never thought I'd make it.

Three days grade school,

three days high school.

Those were awkward.

Three days college. I'm glad I took

a day and hitchhiked around the hive.

You did come back different.

- Hi, Barry.

- Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.

- Hear about Frankie?

- Yeah.

- You going to the funeral?

- No, I'm not going.

Everybody knows,

sting someone, you die.

Don't waste it on a squirrel.

Such a hothead.

I guess he could have

just gotten out of the way.

I love this incorporating

an amusement park into our day.

That's why we don't need vacations.

Boy, quite a bit of pomp...

under the circumstances.

- Well, Adam, today we are men.

- We are!

- Bee-men.

- Amen!

Hallelujah!

Students, faculty, distinguished bees,

please welcome Dean Buzzwell.

Welcome, New Hive Oity

graduating class of...

...9:15.

That concludes our ceremonies.

And begins your career

at Honex Industries!

Will we pick ourjob today?

you will be found in a ditch stung by a thousand bees tomorrow

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gurugirl · 2 years

Text

The Tiffany Club Part 6

Summary: Camille is a sex club worker living in NYC. She meets Harry, a private equity CEO millionaire one day and they realize they like each other. A lot. But will Harry be willing to overlook Camille’s career choice?

AN/Warning: I will have a * by the parts when smut is included. This warning list is comprehensive for all parts, not all contain smut or listed warnings. NSFW, smut, oral (male and female), 18+ only (as always), angst, dom & sub themes, sex work, light alcohol use, mentions of disordered eating and food restrictions

Pairing: Sex club worker Camille x Harry Styles

Part 5

Part 6

Harry

My morning began by getting myself off. I woke up thinking about her and couldn’t help it. Plus maybe it’d help calm my nerves when I do see her later today. I used the gym in the hotel I’m staying at and boxed for an hour, then I showered, ate an apple and had coffee before heading toward the park. I woke up rather late this morning because I didn’t get back to the hotel until around 4 AM.

I head toward the fountain where we said we’d meet and I already see her with her long red, wool coat, and her adorable black and white pit bull, Barry. I can’t help the smile that casts over my features as I get closer to her. She looks super cute. Her hair is back in a ponytail and under the coat I see she’s wearing just some jeans and white shirt tucked in as well as a pair of Vans. I happen to be wearing my Vans today as well.

When she spots me walking toward her I see her face light up immediately. She looks down toward Barry and I watch her lips move, probably telling him something, and then they begin to walk toward me. I give her quick hug and rub the top of Barry’s head, who quickly sits and watches me with his tail wagging.

“Thank you for coming. I was half worried you might not show up. How are you?” I spit out quickly. My nerves have become frazzled in her presence suddenly.

She chuckles and smiles at me, “I’m great. I was actually worried you wouldn’t show up. I told Barry not to get his hopes up but then you showed and now we’re both happy.”

We start walking around along the pathway in the park. Barry stopping occasionally to sniff and pee on bushes. Our conversation is light and easy, mostly small talk. I talk about the apartment I might be buying. She asks me more about that, where the apartment is, if I plan on being in NYC more often than in London since I’m buying here. I find out her plans for the rest of the day and for tomorrow (both of her days off) and realize that I could potentially spend more time with her. She really isn’t doing much of anything. She said she does want to get groceries tomorrow, though and in passing mentions that she mentally made her shopping list while she was with her charge last night, which I find amusing and helps my nerves a little. I don’t want to ask too many details about what she did or what she does because the more I look at her and watch her cute facial expressions when she speaks, the more I realize I would like to be the only guy she gives that sort of attention to. But I can’t ask that of her. Not yet anyway. Maybe after some time I can charm her enough and offer to take care of her… no. I can’t do that. She doesn’t seem the type to want that. I’m probably getting too ahead of myself with these thoughts anyway. I decree to myself to just take it one step at a time with this girl. She’s going to like me or not and we’ll work out or not.

We stop at one of the stands in the park and grab a couple of coffees and I buy a sleeve of the unsalted crackers so I can feed the birds and maybe sneak a couple to Barry to win his love. When we stop at a free bench, Camille connects Barry’s leash to the seat and he lays down next to us at our feet. I crumble a few crackers and toss them a few feet away to where the birds are hopping around.

“Why don’t you let Barry off his leash so he can run a bit?” I question her, as I see others with their dogs running around.

��Well, the first thing is that we’re not in a fenced dog park so it’s illegal to do what the others are doing. The second part to that, though, is that Barry’s a pit bull and too many people are terrified of him so I keep him on a leash with me unless we’re somewhere safe where I can control any outcome. It’s just the sad reality of owning a dog that looks like Barry. I can tell people he’s sweet and easy going til I’m blue in the face but some will just find a way to turn it into something it shouldn’t be. Plus, he’s okay. He’s a little older nowadays and he prefers just sniffing grass, eating sticks and looking off into the distance, contemplating his life choices.” She laughs as she looks down at Barry who is sprawled out on his side lying in the grass. Her laugh is the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a long time.

“Wow. Had no idea. I mean, I’d heard things about pit bulls but never really knew it was such a big deal to some people. Guess I’ll have to learn all about those idiosyncrasies, huh?”

She draws her brows in confusion, “Why? Why would you need to learn about them? He’s my responsibility.”

I just grin at her, trying to feign confidence but I’m losing it internally, “Well, I mean, if we hang out more often then knowing those kinds of things could be useful. Right? Unless you don’t think we should hang out again. I just thought…”

She is shaking her head and puts her hand over mine, “No! Of course I want to hang out with you. Geez… I just didn’t expect you to want to hang out with me. I know you suggested this meet up but I kind of thought you’d flake out.”

I turn my palm face up so I can hold her hand properly and she looks down between us as I intertwine our fingers, “I walked you home last night. Was that not enough to show you that I want to get to know you, at the very least?”

She pauses for a bit as she watches my face. She blinks, looks down to our hands and then I see a small smile creep over her face, “You did. And that surprised me. And you showed up here today, and that also surprised me. I just go into things expecting the worst. My source of income is a little shady and makes things difficult when it comes to relationships. So, I don’t know what to expect with you to be honest. I have to be truthful, though, and say that if you can’t handle what I do at work, then you should probably consider not seeing me anymore. I hate to just start things off like that but it really helps in the long run so I don’t get my hopes up, and you too.”

I nod and squeeze her hand. I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to stop seeing her, even if I don’t really like what she does. I will do everything in my power to push that down for the sake of getting to know her.

“I understand. I guess we should be as honest with one another as we can then, if we do decide to take this further. For me, I just want to get to know you and maybe start dating you if you decide you like me. I can’t say that I love the idea of what your job entails, but I understand it and I know the world’s not an easy place. You have to do whatever it takes in this life to take care of yourself and I find that admirable. Will you let me get to know you, Camille? And we can just go from there?”

She looks shocked. Her mouth hung open, her eyebrows lifted as she nods her head, “Wow. Sounds ideal.” She sighs, “I would love to get to know you, Harry. I just need you to understand that what I do at work is separate from anything outside of it. I won’t give up my job if you ask me, so don’t even try that. I make my own way in this world. I pay my bills, I take care of myself, and put money away for my future. Right now, I don’t know you that well but I wouldn’t mind knowing you better. I just hope you’re sincere in all of this. I don’t like getting hurt. I’ve been told before that what I do isn’t a problem but it turns out it usually is a problem. I realize that it’s not comfortable to think about on your side of things, but as long as you can come to terms with it and try not to guilt me or persuade me to find another job, you and I could have a good time seeing each other.”

We smile at one another for a moment and I just think she’s gorgeous. The prettiest person I’ve ever met. “Okay. I’ll prove it to you that I can handle it. I’ll try my hardest not to get jealous, but even if I do get a little jealous, I won’t ask you to stop doing what you’re doing. I promise. But you should know, that I probably will feel somewhat jealous over you. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.”

She excitedly shoots up and leans in and kisses me right on the mouth, taking me by complete surprise, a bubble of a laugh leaving her mouth when she sits back down into her spot next to me. I stare at her, stunned, wanting more and so I slowly lean down, grasping her neck and push my lips onto hers. I give her soft open-mouthed kisses on her lips and she returns the sweetness back to me. The feeling of her lips on mine sends me swirling somewhere above the clouds. She hums into my mouth and I back away. Her cheeks are pink, her lips are wet and she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, did I mention that already? How pretty she is. How perfect.

“You look cuter and cuter every time I see you.” I speak to her, my face still leaning toward hers, not wanting to leave the warmth of our bubble.

She chuckles and smiles at the compliment, “Uh, sure. Are you saying you like this look more than last night?”

Her skin is bright and fresh, I see no trace of makeup and I definitely like her better without makeup. Not that I didn’t like her look last night, god did I love the way she looked last night. But that’s not really her. This is her. And this is just for me.

“You’re excruciatingly gorgeous right now. I do prefer this look, though, yeah. Not that what I prefer matters, just being honest, is all.”

She looks at me for a moment and I see a sparkle in her eyes, something comes across her face, an expression I can’t really read. She narrows her eyes and looks over my shoulder, then down at Barry, and then meets my gaze again. She places her hand on my neck and rubs over my jaw, her mouth parted like she wants to say something but she is gauging herself, gauging me.

“What? You look like you want to say something. What is it?” I ask her. I push my hand into her unbuttoned coat and slide it over her waste and squeeze lightly to pull her in closer to me as I keep my eyes on hers.

“Fuck. I’m just gonna…” she swallows and chuckles in nervousness before she licks her lips and takes a deep breath, “… do you want to come back to mine?” She looks unsure of herself when she asks me but I’m stunned at her request. I didn’t imagine she’d ask me over and I am immediately nodding and smiling down at her.

“Of course. Now?” I squeeze her side again.

“Uh, yeah, if you want. Unless you’re busy or something. I know we said we’d go somewhere to eat but maybe I can order in? I don’t really feel like sitting outside to eat, and since we have Barry we’d have to find a table outside and it’s kind of cold out right now…”

I stop her mid-ramble and kiss her lips lightly and let out a small laugh, “I’d love to. Let’s go.” I pull at her as I get up and she stands before unhooking Barry’s leash from the bench. We walk to her place, mostly in silence. There is some small talk but the sidewalk is full of people today and it’s difficult to walk directly next to her with all the tourists and locals out today. I follow close behind and Barry looks behind every now and then to make sure I’m following. I already like the furry guy more than most people I’ve ever met.

When we arrive to her building, I follow her into the courtyard and keep close as she unlocks the door to get into the building. As soon as we’re in the lobby the warm air soothes my cold cheeks. I hadn’t realized how cold it was outside until I stepped into the entry of the building Her building has no security or door man. No elevator even. We walk up five flights of stairs until we get to her apartment. She quickly unlocks the door and I follow her into her place. I close the door and lock it behind me as Camille is bending down and removing Barry’s harness. She hangs up the leash and harness near the door and toes off her vans. I do the same with mine.

The entry of the apartment has me facing a wall. It appears to be a short hallway that connects a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room. She has a piece of art hung on the wall. To my immediate left is the living room. The ceilings are high and the windows facing the street are very tall, making the space look larger than it is. She has a television on a stand, a modular couch, a bookshelf, a large rug covering the wood floors, some plants, a tall lamp and a corner cabinet with speakers and a record player. Along one side of the wall are two doors.

“That’s my closet. It’s the only closet in the whole place and since this building is ancient its in the living room.” She steps near it and opens it up. It’s a big closet and it goes the length of the room. There’s a small shelf inside of it with boxes stacked and every inch of the space is taken up with clothes, shoes, coats, and more boxes. She leads me down the tiny hall and there’s a very small bathroom in the center of the hallway with black and white subway tiles a pedestal sink sat next to a toilet and then a shower/tub combo with a tiny, frosted window that faces toward the courtyard. Just next to the bathroom is her bedroom. She pushes the door open and she’s got a full sized bed, a dresser, a shelf, a desk with computer, and a bedside table in the room – that’s it. Everything is tucked together and there’s not much space to step around anything. Her bed is pushed against the wall and she’s got a few pieces of art hung. Then just next to the bedroom is a small kitchen with one piece of counter, a sink, a stove, and a fridge. The other side of the wall has a garbage can and hanging shelves for some storage. There’s a door in the kitchen and she points to it, “That goes out to the fire escape. If I have smokers over they can use it to smoke. But this is it. 600 square feet of Midtown living right here, baby.” She sing-songs her words. She removes her coat and walks past me to hang it where the leash is hung and I follow her. Barry follows us. I remove my coat and drape it over hers.

She walks into her living room and turns on some music. I follow and stay standing, Barry hops onto the couch in the center and watches us. I sit down next to Barry and rub his head, he leans into me so I continue and scratch behind his ear. He’s loving it.

Camille laughs and smiles at the two of us, “He’s a ham. He loves attention. Now that you’ve started, he’s going to bug you to continue. You’re doomed to a life of service to Barry now, just like me.” Barry lays down, plopping his heavy head onto my thigh and keeping his eyes on me to make sure I keep scratching him.

Camille sits down on the other side of the couch. As cute as Barry is, I really would like to have Camille here in my lap instead. But I continue rubbing Barry for the time being.

We decide on ordering in pizza. As we’re figuring out what to order we both learn something new about one another. We both don’t eat meat. I never assume someone’s eating habits but I was definitely surprised we both have similar ones. So we order cheese pizza with mushrooms and olives. I let her pick the toppings because I don’t care all that much. I would normally just order plain cheese, truthfully.

Her space is very small but it’s tidy and decorated pretty nicely. I know rent in this area has to be insane, but it does make me wonder what she makes working where she does. Does she spend all her money on rent or is she able to save up some? She said she saves her money up, which is good.

We both settle back on her couch, which is just slightly longer than a loveseat. The music playing in the background is soft and easy to talk over. Barry is now laying on the rug at the center of the room and sighing dramatically.

Camile tells me more about her upbringing and I can’t focus on much other than her plush lips moving. I’m trying my hardest to pay close attention to what she’s telling me but after the kiss we shared in the park I’m stuck on wanting more of that. I want to touch her and be closer and sitting at opposite ends of her short couch isn’t cutting it for me.

In an attempt to recover from not listening to all of her words, I focus on what I do remember and respond so she knows I’m listening (even though I’m not listening as well as I should be). “So, you’re really happy here, then? In the big city? Despite your upbringing?” See? Not bad. I may be a regular horn dog, but at least I’m trying.

She nods at me scoots so her back is against the arm rest, her legs bent, body facing me, “Yeah. I am. There are things I want still, that I don’t have, but I’ve gotta work and earn money first so that I can have all the things I want in the end. Well, that’s the idea anyway. I doubt I have too many more years left at Tiffany’s. Getting up there in age and all.” She laughs and stares at me as she takes her index finger and traces it over her bottom lip. It causes me to realize she probably wants something more than to just sit and talk as well. Perhaps she wants to kiss me again, as badly as I want to kiss her. And because I’m nothing, if not confident and sure of myself I ask her directly.

“Can I kiss you again, Camille?” I lick my lips and wait for her response as she smiles and blushes at my words. The girl is blushing and it causes my heart to suddenly thud harder against my chest than it had been.

“Please.” She whispers as she scoots herself toward me. I turn my body so that I’m sitting with my knee bent outward on the couch like she is and lean myself toward her. I let my hand rise up to gently hold her face and I touch my nose to hers, lips almost at their destination but not quite. I take a few seconds to breathe her in before allowing my lips to press onto hers.

I hadn’t realized how desperate she was for me until we got into a rhythm with our mouths opening and closing softly, wetly over our lips. When my tongue danced along the seem of her lips she opened her mouth and we began to deepen the kiss effortlessly. She sweetly moaned into my mouth and her hands were in my hair, pulling on me to get as close to her as possible. Her body was nearly hovering over mine as she kneed herself up, placing her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. I easily leaned back to give her access to my lap if she so desired, and I had a pretty good idea she did. She lowered one palm down over the slope of my chest and I placed a hand at her hip, while keeping the other at her neck, thumbing over her jaw. She gingerly lifted a leg and brought it over my lap, encasing me between her thighs. She moved her hands back into my hair and now I had both hands holding onto her hips, urging her closer. She eagerly complied, scooting up toward me and with finality, rocking her core over mine once, and then twice.

In this moment I’m aware of what I’m risking with Camille. I want to take this as far as she’ll let me but should we? I have her in my lap, practically melting in her panties for me and I’m honored, I’m flattered she wants me. And god do I want her too. It’s been so long since I’ve had that sharp excitement from just being near someone you fancy. I barely know this girl but I’m giddy over the fact that she’s in my lap and I’m in her apartment. I have very little time to make a decision about how I want to proceed, because if I have sex with her then I’m going to have to do some drastic rearranging of my life in London. No, I’m not married. But, I’m not necessarily single either. The girl back in London, Lindsay, is someone I’ve been seeing off an on now for over a year. We aren’t exclusive, but we also haven’t been seeing others. Unless we’re not talking during the “off” times. We have had too many offs lately and it’s become something I don’t like anymore. We’ve never been a great couple. We argue constantly, we do not see eye-to-eye on basic foundational stuff, like what our future will look like. She wants something I don’t want and vice versa. And then there’s the matter of family. She’s been jealous of my mother on several occasions. Like, genuinely jealous to the point that one time, I called it off again. She hates that I am as close with my mother as I am. And my sister. Lindsay doesn’t have much of a family to speak of and I think that’s why she gets jealous but god-forbid I have a loving mother and sister when she can’t. But then we always seem to get back together somehow. We do have the same circle of friends and have known each other for years. It’s hard to escape her. Whenever we’d be “off” again we’d still see each other when we’d hang out with our friends or get invited to some gathering. And she’s quite lovely when she’s not being a psychotic bitch. She’s a successful, and creative woman with a bright mind. When we can agree on a subject we have a good conversation. But we rarely agree on things in general. It’s like everything I like is repulsive to her and for me, likewise. She enjoys chicken salad sandwiches. You know the chunks of boiled poultry meat mixed with mayonnaise, some pickles, and onions, or god fucking knows what else goes in them. Then that lovely concoction gets smothered over a slab of sturdy sliced bread, topped with another piece of bread and then is ready to be consumed. I should have known just from that alone that it could never work with Lindsay.

So, now, as I sit here with a very pretty young woman in my lap, eagerly awaiting my next move I have a decision to make. Now, I’m sure you already know what my decision is but I want to pretend that I’m having a conundrum over this. I want to feel less guilty about what I’m about to take part in. Because I won’t need to feel too bad for too long anyway. I will call Lindsay later today, or tomorrow (because who knows how today will go, it could turn into tomorrow) and call it off with her once and for all. I had formulated a plan before I began anything with Camille. My main purpose in coming to New York and splitting my time between here and London would be to expand business. We have more opportunities if we have an office in the U.S. and in the U.K. However, being able to have the excuse of being away more often would be useful in being able to rid myself of Lindsay once and for all. It all sounds very cruel, I know. Maybe it is, but she just doesn’t make me happy anymore and we’re toxic for one another. Our relationship cannot continue and she knows it. We even had a big blowout before I left for New York. And it wasn’t because she was going to miss me being gone for three weeks. Oh no. She doesn’t care if I leave, she was worried about the fact that I hadn’t picked up dinner on my way home like I said I would. I was supposed to bring take out and she was meeting me at my place. I forgot to pick up the food. I ordered it for pick up, I just failed to actually drive to pick up the food on my way home from the office. I simply forgot. There’s no more to it than that. As soon as I walked into my flat, Lindsay was already inside. I hated when she’d let herself in, but I had given her a key after all. She noticed immediately my empty hands and began screaming at me. Screaming over food I paid for and forgot to pick up. I just stood there watching her blow up over dinner.

“I skipped lunch too because I thought you were bringing dinner. Fuck! Did you just forget I was coming over? Is that it? Because it doesn’t make sense how you’d forget to pick up the food if you were anticipating me being here. Right? Like your first thought should have been that you were going to see me so that would have reminded you to get the food. But you didn’t. Instead you just completely forgot! I just don’t get it! Am I that boring to you? Do I mean so little to you that you would forget that I was coming over for dinner the night before you leave the country!?”

I couldn’t think of much to say to her other than I just forgot to pick up the food. And then I made the grave mistake of saying that skipping lunch was her own fault. She didn’t like that. She yelled and bitched at me some more. She swatted at my chest as she walked past me to use my bathroom which really caught me off guard. Sometimes she would get physical but it wasn’t often, and never much more than a shove or swat to my chest. Swatting at my chest isn’t a big deal but just imagine if I’d done that to her. I didn’t know what I could say to her. She’d made up her mind that she thought I’d forgotten her. I didn’t of course. I placed the order and everything. But I was also so tired of her yelling and the baseless accusations that I just decided to shut down and stop defending myself or trying anymore.

When she came out of the bathroom I was already rummaging through my pantry to pull out stuff to make a simple marinara spaghetti. Lindsay stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Her face was red as she was yelling at me once again. She doesn’t like spaghetti and I should know better, she hates it! She was acting like a child yelling about hating spaghetti when I had had enough.

“Stop, Lindsay. If you don’t stop shouting at me over every fucking thing you can leave. I don’t know why you’re still here to be honest.”

She looked at me in confusion but she was still red in anger. Her refusal to give up her stance, along with some more shouting led me to calmly walking past her toward her purse. I dipped my hand in it to grab her key ring. She shouted at me some more, asking me why I’m touching her things when I finally pull out her keys and coolly remove the key to my flat from her ring. I drop her keys back into her purse and put a fist around the key I’d given her. I walk past her without even looking in her direction and it’s the first bit of silence she’s awarded me since I’ve stepped into my home. But the silence doesn’t last long as she begins speaking again.

“Why did you just take the key, Harry?” She scoffs as if it’s crazy of me to do such a thing.

I turn to look at her and place the key flat onto the counter as I answer her, “Because I’m leaving the country for three weeks tomorrow and I don’t need you letting yourself in while I’m away.” I return to the stove and continue making Lindsay’s most despised dish. She watches me in utter shock. I get a good glance at her and she’s staring daggers into my temple. I speak up finally, “If you don’t like spaghetti and you haven’t eaten since breakfast, you should probably leave so you can find something you do like to eat. Would hate for you to go hungry.”

She needs little more convincing that I’m done with her antics for the night. She throws a few insults at me for good measure before slamming the front door behind her as she leaves.

I slept like a baby that night knowing I wasn’t going to be giving her key back to her.

But now, back to my conundrum. Sweet Camille is still sipping from my lips as she straddles my lap and I decide to be honest with her before letting anything further take place. I mean, I should be honest, right? That's what adults do when they want to have a healthy relationship, and if there's any hope for something with Camille it's the least I can do.

I keep my hands at her hips but I move my head back from her lips to halt her actions and she pouts adorably.

I bring one hand up to cup her jaw as I speak, “Sorry. I feel like I should tell you something before we continue this.” I watch her for a moment before I see her face soften and she nods, “I have been seeing someone in London but I’m calling it off with her. I mean, I’d made the decision to call it quits a few days ago but just hadn’t done it because I haven’t spoken to her. We aren’t really speaking at the moment, hence why I will be ending it with her…” I trail off, wanting to gauge Camille’s expression. She is hard to read. I can’t tell what’s going on in her mind but I’m hoping this doesn’t change her mind about me. It probably will but I can hope at least.

She sits back, creating a small distance, but stays on my lap, shaking her head, “Fuck. I knew you were too good to be true.” She frowns and begins to move herself off of me. Part of me wants to hold her in place and make her stay but I know rationally that’s not going to help, I know. “So, you have a girlfriend?” She sits next to me on the couch and puts her face in her hands.

“No. She’s never been a girlfriend. She’s just been someone I’ve dated on and off. But like I said, we’re done. I know I should have told you before this. I’m sorry.”

Camille stays in her spot rubbing her hands over her face and then I hear her begin to laugh incredulously.

“I’m usually so good at sniffing out a guy who’s not single. I misjudged you.” She finally looks at me with her kiss-swollen lips and pink cheeks. She looks upset, but not mad necessarily. I sigh and remain silent while she searches over my face.

“But of course you’re not single. Ugh… I was looking forward to finding out where this could go. I know it might seem unfair of me to expect a guy to not be fucking others while I do what I do for work, but still… that’s what I want.” She sighs and looks up to her ceiling in thought.

“I’m sorry, Camille. I didn’t expect to meet someone and then start to really like them so quickly right away. I mean, I’ve just gotten to New York and you’ve been a wonderful and unexpected surprise. But that’s why I told you too. I am breaking it off with her, though. When I do, will you consider seeing me? Like going on dates and getting to know me?” I keep my eyes on her profile, hoping she can overlook my faults.

She turns her head to look at me with a serious expression, “I… would like to think you’d have already called it off with her. I am glad you told me, but obviously since I don’t know you all that well, I don’t know how much I can trust your word. I mean, you could have called it off with her this morning before seeing me, you know? I just can’t know you’re being honest. So, how would I know? Right? This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve dealt with similar situations where the guy is breaking up with his wife or girlfriend and then I trust that and fall for them, and then they never do and I’m the one left by myself in the end.” She drops her head down and looks into her lap. I feel awful but she’s given me an idea.

I lean to the side and pull my cellphone out of my pocket and lift it between us. “What if I call her now and do it on speaker with you right here? I know it sounds shitty but I want you to hear it for yourself. I can prove it to you right now and here. I mean it when I say I’m breaking it off. She and I should have called it quits some time ago.”

She furrows her brow and cocks her head as she looks directly into my eyes, “Are you serious? Like, you’d call her right now and just end it? Are you just doing this so you can get in my pants?”

I vehemently shake my head, “No! Oh god… never. I genuinely had already planned on breaking up with her before I even met you. I took her key to my flat the night before I left London even, as a sort gesture to her. That’s when I decided. I just hadn’t gotten around to it because there was no rush. Then I met you yesterday. I mean, you and I just met yesterday. I could have called her before seeing you, yes. That would have been ideal, but the truth is I didn’t even think of calling her. In my mind I’m already done with her, moved on. It’s been that way for some time actually. I know she feels the same. Here, I’m serious,” I unlock my phone and pull up the contact for Lindsay and then look back to Camille, “I’ll call her right now. Is that okay with you?”

She hums and looks away from me for a moment, as if she needs to consider everything first. She stands up from the couch and paces around the room, squats down to pet Barry and then looks at me from her crouched position and nods, “Okay. If you want to. I mean, this is your relationship so if you want to break it off with her right at this very moment, I can’t stop you.” She stands up and walks back to the couch, gently sitting down and looking at the phone in my hand, “Lindsay. That’s her name. Look, if you want to call her then do it.” She wraps her arms around the front of her own body and leans back into the cushion behind her, keeping her eyes on my phone.

I click the button to call her and hit the speaker option. It’s 6 hours ahead, which means it’s about 8:30 in the evening. I watch Camille as the monotone sound of the ringtone begins crackling through the space between us. It rings about four times before I hear Lindsay’s voice on the other end, “Hello?”

Camille sits up straight at the sound of Lindsay’s voice and she keeps her eyes on the phone between us.

“Hey, Linds. What are you up to tonight?” I keep it casual at first. Feeling like I should at least greet her before getting right into it.

“What the fuck do you care, Harry? Enjoying New York City?” She sighs into the receiver and I roll my eyes. It’s always this way with her.

“Just wondering. And yes, I have been enjoying New York City quite well. I’m planning on purchasing a flat here next week. So, I’ll be in New York City quite a lot going forward.” I lift my eyes to look at Camille and she’s already looking at me, her arms down by her side, palms flat on the couch on either side of her thighs.

“Wonderful. That means I won’t have to put up with your shit as often.” Lindsay laughs before adding, “Are you calling to break up with me now? Is that why you’re telling me this?”

I laugh out loud and realize that Lindsay could hear it but I don’t care much for her opinion anymore, “Actually, you’re spot on. You won’t have to put up with my shit anymore and yes, this is me calling to break it off with you. I think we’re terrible together and I know you agree. We should stop torturing ourselves with whatever this is we’re doing. It’s not working anymore.” I keep my eyes on the phone. My heart rate has increased as my nerves have peaked. I’m glad to be doing this but confrontation is hard.

Lindsay laughs coldly and pauses for a bit, “You’re such a coward doing this over the phone while you’re in another country. Fucking pussy. You always have been, though. Surprised you didn’t have your assistant call me to tell me.”

I scoff and shake my head, “I’ve never had anyone tell you anything on my behalf. And this is the first time I’ve broken up with you over the phone. Look, I’m telling you now because I’m ready to move on. I know you are too. I don’t see any reason to wait to tell you this until I return. I may not even have time to see you when I do get back to London because I’ll be spending most of my time in New York City while the new office gets up and running. So, this has to be done this way. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but it’s over.” Camille still has her eyes on me. Her face neutral.

“Oh fuck off. You could have told me to my face. But you’re right. I’m ready to be done with you once and for all. Don’t call me again, and don’t you dare try and talk to me next time we’re forced to see each other at one of those fucking events again. Understood?”

I take a deep breath and drag my hands down my face, “Of course. That’s the goal. Have a good evening.” I hang up before she can get another word in. I keep my eyes on the phone but I can feel Camille’s eyes on me.

She places her hand over mine and that causes me to lift my head to look at her. Her soft smile is comforting. “Are you okay?” She asks gently.

I nod, “I’m fine. We’ve broken up like thirteen times so I have a lot of practice.” I laugh, “Anyway, so now you know it’s over. It’s a relief for me.”

Camille laughs and just at that moment her buzzer goes off. She hops up from the couch and lifts her index finger as she walks out of her front door to grab the food. I look down at Barry who’s got his head lifted and looking toward the door, waiting to watch for Camille to return.

When she comes back two minutes later with pizza in hand, she sees both me and Barry staring at the door as she enters. I get up to help her set up, still unsure if she wants me around, but offer help anyway.

“Do you want me to get plates or drinks or anything?” I question.

“Yeah! Plates are in the cabinet right above the section of open counter and I’ve got tea and sparkling water in the fridge. I’ll take a sparkling water.”

She gets out some fold out tables and sets them up at the couch as I pull down two plates and bring them to the living room. Then I grab two bottles of sparkling water from her fridge. I notice she hasn’t got much for food. I see eggs, mustard, a few plastic containers with probably some kind of leftover food, almond milk, butter, a glass pitcher of tea, a few more bottles of sparkling water, a few jars of salsa, a pack of corn tortillas, and her crisper drawer appears to be full but I don’t open it to find out what’s in it.

When I get back to the living room she’s got the pizza sitting on a side table and two trays in front of the couch with a plate on each. She grabs a slice for herself and looks at me as I sit, “Want me to get you a piece?”

“Sure. Thanks.” When she’s placed the pizza on my plate we both dig in. I was rather hungry. I chew into the pizza and realize this is excellent pizza. I’ve had New York pizza before but this is amazing. “Wow. This is really good. What’s the place called?”

Camille swallows the bite she had in her mouth and nods, “I know. It’s so good. The place is called Joe’s. They are always busy, it’s how you know it’s good.” She takes another bite and then washes it down with her sparkling water.

We eat in silence for a bit as Barry watches us very closely. He’s suddenly quite interested in us and I have a feeling it’s more to do with the food on our plates than our kind personalities.

“And, just so you know…” Camille begins, setting her piece of pizza down, turning to me, “I was totally going to have sex with you but now I think we should wait. You’ll have to take me out on a proper date first. You know, so I can determine whether or not you’re worth it.” She chuckles and smiles.

I breathe out a laugh and shake my head, “S’fine. I deserve that. I was really hoping to get lucky but I can wait.” I shrug as I take another bite.

“Whose to say I’ll want to do anything with you after the date, though? Could be a bust.” She says coyly, hiding the smirk that’s trying to break across her face.

“Baby, you’re going to want to at least take a ride. I promise you that. I may not be perfect, but my cunnilingus game is on point, and my dick is big so I can at-minimum please you in the sack. But, like I said, I’m fine to wait. We’re in no rush.” I turn back to my pizza and feel the heat of her gaze on me as I chew the buttery crust.

“Really? Sound quite sure of yourself, there Casanova. I have my doubts but that’s because men are always bullshitters. So, now that you’ve said that, IF I decide I like you enough to fuck, then you’re going to have to prove all of that to me. Talk is one thing. Show is another.”

I laugh at her and lean closer, putting my arm along the back of the couch, “I’ll not only prove it to you, I’ll make you fall in love with me. You’ll be begging me for more. Mark my words, darling. If you give me a chance, you’ll be getting the best dicking you’ve ever had in your whole life.”

Part 7

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