#Robert sean leonard fanfic

[star-girl-05]

Newly Discovered Desires

Cruise x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

You spent most of your time cooped up in this building. Drinking terrible coffee and eating take out. Even when you left work all you wanted to do was relax, a stressful job will do that. So your social life outside of work was completely non existing, and your romantic life only existed in the books you read. You were okay with that though because your books were plenty or at least you thought they were. 

After a rough day at work T.C. invited everyone out, offering to buy the first round. After the first round there was a second round and by the four your night started to blur. That was your first mistake. The mistake that led to the main mistake, the huge mistake. 

All you needed was your romance books, at least that's what you thought. Now at this moment you're beginning to doubt your previous belief. Cause the feeling of his hands running up your shirt, and his lips grazing your neck sent your senses into overdrive in a way words on a page never could. 

The alcohol in your system only amplifies your reaction to his touch. Never in a million years did you think you would let HIM of all people kiss you. He's a cocky ass, the only reason you tolerate him is because he's good at his job, but tolerating someone is a long way from letting them see you naked. Yet here you are moaning into his mouth. Unbuttoning his shirt and begging him to hurry up. 

That's the last thing you remember, the next day. As soon as you wake up a headache immediately greets you making you groan. The previous night was a blur but the things you did remember couldn’t possibly be true. There's absolutely no way you would kiss him let alone take him back to your apartment. That's what you believed until you opened your eyes and saw him lying next to you. The sight has you jumping out of bed. 

The sudden movement has him, Cruise lifting his head. He lazily flips over making eye-contact with you. He takes a moment to process what's happening and when he finally does he doesn’t seem horrified. In fact he seems the opposite, he's cocky, his signature smirk on his face. “Well isn’t this a sight to see” he eyes you up and down. You finally take a second to see what you're wearing and the sight has you cringing. You're dressed in his white button up and only his white button up.

You reach for the blanket only for Cruise to yank the blanket back. Of course even in a situation like this he's a jerk. “Jesus, how much did I have to drink to overlook your being a jerk?”

“Probably the same amount as me since I forgot just how bitchy you can be.” you openly gasp at him. Before staring at him with a glare that would send anyone running but Cruise just smiles at you before falling to your bed again.

“I’m going to shower and when I come out you're going to be gone and we will never mention this again to anyone” there was an underlying threat to your words one you made sure he picked up on.

“I need to shower too so why don’t we save water” 

“Cruise I’m being serious for all we know nothing happened so there's no need to bring it up again” Yeah maybe the two of you only kissed and you're wearing his shirt because you got hot in the middle of the night and his shirt was the closest thing to you. You were already forcing yourself to believe your unlikely narrative. 

“Yeah you're right I’m sure we just passed out and this condom in the trash is unrelated” Your heart stops your rounding the bed and checking in the trash can to find said condom. “Oh my mistake there's actually two condoms still it could be just a coincidence.” 

“Okay fine we slept together, still this changes nothing.” You were determined to sweep this under the rug. If anyone ever found out about this you would never hear the end of it. 

“Understood, I wouldn’t want anyone finding out about this incident either” You knew why you didn’t want anyone to find out about you and him but you didn’t think he wouldn’t want people to know. What's so bad about sleeping with you? STOP! You clear your mind, take a breath, you don’t care why he doesn’t want people to know. It's good for you that he wants to keep this secret too. Now you can take your shower and not worry that when you get to work everyone will be whispering. 

With one final look at Cruise you slip into the bathroom. You're finally able to take a survey of your appearance. Your hair is a mess and a trail of purple marks on your neck slips below the neckline of your, his shirt. You're slipping off the shirt in a hurry, allowing you to see the full extent of last night's activities. Your body is decorated with various purple marks, a mixture of bruises and hickeys.

He's quick to pull your shirt off, trailing kisses on the newly exposed skin. With every kiss you feel yourself get more and more lost in his touch. 

The memory has you shivering you just need to wash off last night. Put it behind you and never think of it again.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

“I need my shirt” you pick up the shirt cracking the bathroom door and slipping it through the bathroom door. You wait by the door waiting to hear the click of the front door. Once you hear it you finally get in the shower. 

~~~

Cruise said he wouldn't tell anyone and while you wanted to believe him you still found yourself hesitant to actually walk into work. If you didn’t hurry you would be late, gathering all your courage you finally pushed open the doors. 

You're thankful that you made it all the way to your area without anyone giving you knowing looks. It seems he was able to keep his mouth shut after all. 

The rest of your day went smoothly, an average normal day. After your morning/night you're more than thankful for your boring day. Now your going to go home and end your day with delicious food and a good movie. 

“Hey sweetheart, are you heading out?” Of course he has to ruin your night. 

“Since when do you call me sweetheart?” 

“It seems only fitting now that I know just how sweet you taste” a blush covers your face at his words. Cruise smiles at your reaction, taking pride in making you blush. 

“I thought we both agreed to not mention last night ever again”

“That was before I remembered all about last night” that wasn’t fair, you could only remember snippets from last night but if Cruise could remember all of it he has the upper hand. “Why don't you come back to my place and we can recreate last nights activities” 

“Cruise, i thought i made this crystal clear i want nothing to do with you” you words were harsh but you needed to make sure they cut through his thick skull. 

“Okay fine I’ll just return your underwear tomorrow then” it took you a moment to process his words but when you did your gasping. He stole your underwear, what a pervert.

“You stole my underwear?”

“Of course not I borrowed them, as insurance”

“….” You pause for a moment trying to process his words. As insurance, what sane person steals someone's underwear as insurance. Just as you're about to tell him to bring them tomorrow you freeze for a moment. If the last five seconds of this conversation is anything to go by, Cruise is insane. You could already picture him strolling into work and dropping the item in your lap for everyone to see. Even thinking about it was making you embarrassed. No you would have to get them yourself which unfortunately meant going to his place. 

~~

Cruise had been talking non-stop as soon as you sat down. Making the drive to his place excruciatingly long. You were already pouting at the thought of having to do it again. Cruise refused to give you his address so you were forced to ride in his car. Finally you arrive at his place, it's nicer than you thought it was going to be. “Go get them” you don’t plan on spending a second longer here than you have to. 

“Why don’t you have a drink first?” 

“I don’t plan on drinking ever again” he chuckles a little, mumbling something along the lines of ‘oh well I tried’. He heads to the back part of the apartment opening what you're assuming is his bedroom. You wait as patiently as you can for him to reemerge. He comes from the bedroom, your underwear hanging off his pointer finger. As soon as he’s close your reaching for them only for him to yank them away from you. You should have known it wasn’t going to be easy. You reach for them once more, even if it is futile. His 6’0 ass is holding them way above his head. Before you resort to kicking him in his groin you decide to try and sneak attack him. You pretend to give up walking away from him. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, he’s still holding them way above his head. He barely has time to register you running full speed at him, jumping into his arms. Both of you go crashing into the fall, at the last second Cruise is able to steady the two of you. “Are you trying to kill me?” His words are breathless as he tries to catch his breath. You're not focusing on him, however your attention on the underwear balled in his hand that now rests on your hip. You're pulling them from his grasp before he even knows what's happening. 

“I win” you say cheerfully, tucking your newly found clothing item in your pocket. Cruise is too focused on your smile to be mad about you winning. 

“Did you? I’m the one that has you in my arms” his fingers dig into your hips reminding you of the bruises that already rest there.

“That's enough of that, just put me down so you can drop me back off” You try to wiggle out of his grasp but his grip only tightens. You're prepared to tell him off for not putting you down. The words die on your tongue as soon as you lock eyes with him. ‘He has no business looking at me like that’ you think to yourself. 

“Can’t I have a kiss, you did almost kill me” You didn’t feel bad, he deserved it for holding your underwear hostage, so why are you leaning in. 

The kiss turns heated instantly, your hands tangling themselves in his soft hair. While his fingers continue to dig into the flesh of your hips. He pulls away, placing kisses over neck. In between each kiss you hear him mumble ‘Can’t believe that worked’ 

You can’t believe you fell for that cheesy line either. Yet here you are in Cruises arms once again. Turns out his mouth is useful for more than snarky remarks. Your curious what other things he’s been keeping secret…

[ash5monster01]

In honor of a new Taylor album releasing tomorrow that’s so DPS coded, I’m sharing this gem I wrote ages ago. If you haven’t yet seen it, please enjoy ❤️

hii could i request a neil perry smut, similar to the charlie one. With a Taylor Swift song!! Love your work🤍🤍

New Romantics

Pairing: Neil Perry x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, lust, sexual attraction, smut, mentions of nudity, oral, p in v, first time, fluff

Summary: Neil Perry falls for you out of no where. In his minor crisis over his feelings for you, you find yourself feeling the exact same about him. After all a forbidden romance was far more interesting than the boring life you both had stuck in Welton.

a/n: I’m so sorry I absolutely got carried away with this but sweet precious little Neil and Taylor Swift. It’s genius.

word count: 5,234

Masterlist

Neil Perry didn’t really care about girls. That didn’t mean he wasn’t attracted to them, of course he was. He just had far more important things to focus on than obsessing over a girl and her looks. That also wasn’t to say he didn’t care about those things either. Hell he had seen plenty of naked girls from the magazines Charlie stole from his father. He just never had in person and he was okay with that. He had things to focus on like school and pleasing his Dad. If he obsessed over girls like Charlie or Knox did he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the important stuff. At least that was what he thought until he saw you.

Neil had never been bothered by girls attending Welton like the other boys had. He’d rather them be comfortable and not distracting while he was here. Guys like Hopkins were the ones that couldn’t leave them alone. That was how he had ended up spotting you. Hopkins was leaning over you, hand pressed into the wall, his free arm trying to snake its way around your waist. Your heel came down so hard into the boys foot Neil actually heard him whimper.

“I told you to leave me alone!” you seethed, Neil’s eyes lifting to see your long hair swinging violently in your pony tail, bright eyes wide, nostrils flared. His heart stopped. You were damn near the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He was so distracted by the hills of your lips, imagining them pillowy soft against his own, he didn’t even notice you were now looking at him. A look in your eyes that could kill with your hands planted tightly on your hips.

“You want a go?” you asked, narrowed eyes and bright teeth shining behind your perfect red lips. Neil visibly gulped before shaking his head, clutching his books to his chest. You scared him. Yet not in the way you should. You scared him because for the first time in his life he found himself unable to deny his attraction.

“No, no. I uh, no” your head tipped back, the roll of your eyes so heavy he swore they almost disappeared. He wished your head would tip back like that looking up at him, touching him, taking care of him. The thought made his heart constrict in his chest, because he had never thought that about a girl before. It was as if he couldn't stop it, there was just something about you that made his skin tingle with anticipation. He had never had that before.

“Whatever Perry, find something else to entertain you” you scolded, briskly walking past him, shoulder brushing against his own. Unable to avoid it, another thought of you laying underneath him, with that fiery look appeared, and he actually had to close his eyes to shake the thought away.

So Neil spent the better part of the entire week trying to chase away thoughts of you. It was exactly what he had been afraid of. All consuming, distracting thoughts that he couldn’t seem to make go away. He had zoned out through three entire lectures before realizing he had a serious problem on his hands. He needed a way to get you out of his system and fast. Yet every time he was close to getting himself to stop he realized having thoughts and feelings for you was the most exciting thing to happen all year. The most exciting thing to ever happen in this school actually. At least since Keating had started teaching.

“Hey Neil, do you have the latin notes?” Charlie asked from Neil’s bed, surrounded by homework he was behind on. He preferred to catch up on it in the presence of his best friend rather than Cameron. Charlie didn't need a lecture about trying better at school from any one other than his father. Cameron had a habit of acting a lot like his Dad.

“Um, no actually” Neil gave him a sheepish look, long finger pushing the wired glasses up his nose.

“What do you mean no? You take notes even when Cameron helps us with math” Charlie sat up, confusion flooding his entire face. He just expected Neil to throw the notes over, he had never said no before.

“I was distracted” Neil shrugged, unsure how to properly explain himself.

“Something is up with you, you’ve been acting weird all week” Charlie shook his head, trying to read what was going on in Neil's head. Thing was it was usually Neil having to tell him what to do, not the other way around. As Charlie sat there trying to figure it out Neil felt the answer bubbling in his chest, ready to jump out at any moment. “What is going on?”

“Y/N” Neil blurted, nerves making his skin feel like it was on fire under the stare of his longest and oldest friend. The minute the name left his mouth he winced and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch Charlie as he processed this random response.

“Y/N? Like the Y/N in our latin class that tells Mcallister to eat it when she forgets her homework?” Neil opened his eyes and nodded, embarrassment covering his cheeks in a bright red.

“Since when do you even talk to her?” Charlie asked, arms crossing over his chest as an amused look covered his face. Neil never talked about girls, so this was a first.

“I don’t, but I can’t get her out of my head” Neil groaned as he gripped at his hair, more dirty images of the girl flashing through his mind. He needed help and as soon as he could get it.

“No way, Neil has a crush” Charlie snickered and that’s when Neil dropped his head on his desk, a defeated grunt escaping his lips.

“That’s the thing, it’s not just a crush” now that peaked Charlie’s interest, his best friend getting all squeamish about a girl was bound to be interesting.

“Not just a crush?” Charlie asked, eyebrows high in amusement. This was pure entertainment for Charlie, Neil embarrassed about a girl. Normally it was Neil being embarassed when Charlie said gross things about a girl.

“I can’t stop thinking about her. I watched her stomp on Hopkins foot and next thing I know I'm thinking about kissing her and..... other things" Charlie laughed loudly, eyes crinkling shut because for the first time it wasn't just him getting all hot and bothered over a girl. Hell it was Neil of all people.

"Wow, I did not expect this" Charlie said once he had finally calmed down, still amused over the predicament his friend was in.

"Stop laughing man, I need your help. I don't know what to do and if my grades slip because of this my Dad will kill me" Neil pleaded, not enjoying his friends amusement one bit. Charlie had been fighting attraction his whole life, Neil had never found anything worth it to be attracted to. At least until now.

"Look there's only one way to get rid of an itch, and that's to scratch it" Neil furrowed his eyebrows, confusion covering his face.

"I don't think that's true, actually the worst thing for an itch is to scratch it" Charlie rolled his eyes at his friends literalness and shook his head.

"Not that kind of itch, look you're not gonna stop thinking about her until you at least talk to her. Even better way to scratch it is to do all the things you're thinking about but let's start with baby steps" Charlie told him and Neil somehow turned even redder, the idea of even acting on his thoughts embarassment enough.

"Fine, I'll talk to her but that is it"

Welton sucked. Truly since the moment you had been here. The last thing you needed was to be harrassed by boys who had gone here so long without girls they'd have no idea how to act when one finally showed up. Yet your parents made you anyway the minute it became co-ed and it was exactly like you had predicted. Almost every boy in the school harrassed you, sexualized you, made slimy comments, and out right direspected you. A small part of you sympathized with them not being taught but at the same time you didn't feel the need to deal with it. It wasn't your job to make them decent human beings, it was their mothers, and all their mothers abandoned them here. So all you could do was put them in their place when they tried to mess with you. You had yet to meet a Welton boy that respected you.

You liked to pretend it didn't bother you but it did. You hadn't really gotten close to the other girls and all the boys ever did was tear you down. Everyone in this school was too bored and tired of everything. All they could do is mess with each other while they all waited for their escape. Especially you, waiting for that train you knew would never come. Didn't matter anyway, your parents were no better than this no good school. So all you could do was watch as they all flirted with each other, disgusting displays of undeceny, practically wearing scarlett letters like the Nathaniel Hawthorne book. Little did they know yours was better, you just hadn't bothered to show it.

Being young it was easy to play innocent, like being in this school wasn't putting you on the road to ruin. So everyone in this school could play dumb but they all knew what being here meant. It meant saying goodbye to the finer things in life, accepting a life of successful educational pursuits, with no passion for life behind it. So you continued to listen to girls cry in the bathroom at night and see the distraught faces of the boys when they realize now that their on this train they will never be abe to get off. Too focused on the progressive classrooms without realizing living their life held the best lesson for them. You hoped Keating would help them realize that, before it was too late at least. So that was what you thought about once English class had ended, the teacher yet again surprising the students in the classroom.

"Y/N?" turning you spotted Neil Perry, the dreamy dough eyed boy that sat two seats behind you. You had yelled at him last week, you hadn't meant to but people like Hopkins made you so mad anyone that happened to be in the cross fire could end up burned too.

"Hey Neil" you smiled lightly at him, hoping you wouldn't have to add another boy to the list of Welton imbeciles.

"Hey, uhm. I uh-. Could you-?" you watched as he stumbled over his words, eyes darting around your face, looking anywhere but your eyes. You realized he was nervous and he was also trying his best not to disrespect you. That was new.

"Take a breath Perry, I promise I'm not going to stomp on your foot" you chuckled, hand gripping his shoulder to ease the tension slighty. Finally his eyes met yours and they held so much adoration you swore your heart melted on the spot.

"I was wondering if you had the latin notes?" your eyebrows furrowed, surprised he was asking about notes. Especially since he was friends with Meeks who was top of the class. He spotted your confused face and the panic set in again.

"I mean yeah, but isn't Steven always on top of that stuff?" you asked as you began to dig through your bag, looking for the notebook.

"Yeah which is exactly why I don't want him to know I've been forgetting to take notes" at this you laughed lightly and Neil swore his heart stopped. He had made you laugh, Charlie was right. So far this conversation had already done so much for Neil, when all at the same time it was making his feelings for you absoltuley so much worse.

"Has something been on your mind?" you found yourself asking as you finally found the notebook and moved to hand it to him. Neil gulped nervously and chuckled.

"Uh, I guess you could say that" he said, adding the notebok to his mountain high of textbooks. "Thank you for this, and also I thought Hopkins deserved it just so you know. That's not how you treat a lady, especially you"

"I'm nothing too special, but thanks" you smiled softly at him, not expecting this. All the boys you had run into this year had been so vile. Who would've thought Neil Perry was a sweet heart.

"You're everything Y/N" Neil told you, stare hard as if the look itself could convince you of your worth. Your skin instantly started to crawl, your neck heating up, because damnit Neil Perry was cute and he just said you were everything.

"Would you want to study for latin together? My roomate goes to the library every night from six to seven so we could then" you found yourself saying, unsure why you had seemed to cave. You swore you weren't going to allow Welton boys in but you forgot how real gentlemen had acted and Neil was starting to take your breath away.

"In the girl dorms?" the color seemed to suddenly drain from his face and you snickered, the way he was so shy making you gigle like a young school girl. After all it was what you were but so many of the rude boys and vicous girls had thrown bricks at your cool and innocent structure. Hell you could build a castle from how many they had thrown at you. Yet, even if every day at this school was a battle maybe a night with Neil Perry could be a dream.

"Yes, Mrs Leonard reads in her room around that time. You won't get caught, promise" you told him, assuring him that the hall monitor wouldn't be on duty if he stopped by. Neil suddenly found himself nodding, the idea of seeing where you sleep every night, where you change, sending him into over drive.

"Okay, uh, sounds good. I'll see you then" you smiled softly before nodding and leaving him behind, a smirking Keating from his desk staring the young boy down.

"Should I be worried?" he teased and Neil shook his head, the tips of his ears red.

"No, we're just friends" Neil lied, right through his teeth, and Keating just laughed.

"My boy, you don't look at friends like that" Neil nodded, a blush permanently etched across his face as he rushed to tell Charlie because the only way he would survive the night was learning the expertise of someone who was a master at sneaking onto the girls dorm floor.

If you were being honest you half expected Neil to not show up. He wasn’t really known around the school to cause trouble. So when he showed up at your door, 6 o’clock on the dot, your heart fluttered. He had rid himself of his formal school uniform, now in sweat pants and a white t-shirt that he had covered in a long sleeve flannel to keep warm. The way he looked warmed you over as well.

“You came?” you found yourself saying out loud, stepping out of the way for him to slip easily into the room.

“Yeah, I wanted to spend time with you” Neil told you, honesty dripping from his tongue like honey. You watched as his eyes scanned your room, taking in the differences, and possibly the similarities to his own. Then his eyes landed on you and it wasn’t hard to miss the way they had darkened.

Neil almost rubbed his eyes because he had pictured you in a silk night set hundreds of times. It was how most of his fantasies would start. Now here you were in front of him, a silk red set laying softly against your skin. Long legs bare and for him to see. Maybe he was day dreaming again. Surely this couldn’t be real? He was going insane and he was going to start losing it. First his grades then he won’t be sure what planet he is even on.

“I didn’t take you for the sneaking around type?” you finally said, surprised goodie two shoes Neil had not only snuck away from his dorm floor but snuck his way onto yours.

"I'm not, but lately I've learned some risks are worth taking" Neil told you, hard stare set on you. You weren't one to fall easily into guys but for some reason the way Neil looked at you made your skin crawl. You allowed his stare to wash over you, refresh you, and for the first time you allowed yourself to think it was possible to be something with Neil Perry. After all you could be the new romantics and even though heart break was a national anthem you both could sing it proudly. Neil was a reminder that the best people in life are free.

"Um, here are your notes" Neil finally spoke into the silence, nervously gulping as he returned the notebook. It was damn near impossible to copy the notes when thoughts of tonight seeped into his mind, doing things in your dorm bed that no dorm bed should ever see. The minute he would get his focus back he would stumble upon some hearts you doodled and it would start the process all over again. He wished he could get every single heart tattooed on his body.

"Oh perfect! I'm glad I could help" you told him, taking this notes and turning to set them on your desk. You used this moment to catch your breath, no longer looking at Neil Perry like something you wanted to corrupt. Yet that was exactly how he was looking at you because the red fabric covering the curve of your ass was making him want to bite it like an apple, any taste of you willing to soothe his internal war of lusting after you. He was so distracted he hadn't even noticed you had turned back around and had caught him practically drooling over you.

Quickly his eyes snapped up to yours, unable to read your face. He waited for any type of reaction, more than likely one similiar to when you bruised the hell out of Hopkins foot but instead you just sat there, staring back him giving no clue as to what you were thinking. Little did he know this was poker and you were about to play your ace. When you're a teenager you are too busy dancing to get knocked off your feet but afterall you need love and all you want is danger. A forbidden romance could be exactly that. You knew starting something with him the rumors would spread like wildfire but the thing about rumors is even if they were terrible and cruel most of them were true. So what would it matter if they had one more brick to throw at you. Neil still didn't have a single clue as to what was happening as you took a step closer to him.

"I can leave, I didn't mean to upset-" Neil froze as you held up a hand to stop his apology. For the first time since you had a caught him a smile broke across your face.

"Please stay" you told him, your eyes now practically begging for the boy who had been falling apart for you all week. Neil's shoulders relaxed as he nodded, a soft smile on his face as he realized you were looking at him like he looked at you.

"Okay" he told you and before he could process what was happening next your arms were flinging around his neck, mouth sealing against his own. Eyes wide and unsure hands quickly turned into holding onto you like at any moment you would disappear and this wouldn't be real. Your lips were as soft as he imagined, you tasted sweet like sugar, and now that you were so close he could smell your shampoo. His senses were trying to take it all in, commit it to memory, because until now it was just what he had imagined and now you were pressed against him, mouth hot against his own and chest pressed tightly against his. You weren't wearing a bra, he had noticed immediately and now he wasn't sure he would survive this. Surivve you.

"Is this okay?" you asked as you pulled away, panting to catch your breath but Neil didn't answer because now that he had a taste he couldn't stop. His lips were now trailing down your neck, your perfume clinging to him, and he vowed to never wash it away. Charlie was right about scratching that itch but he needed it fully taken care of. One kiss would not solve over a weeks worth of painful pent up sexual feelings for you.

You read his message loud and clear and as his lips continued to taste every visible inch of skin your hands were pushing the flannel off of his shoulders. The fabric dropped to the floor and now your fingers were curling under the hem of his white t-shirt and he only removed himself from you for a second to allow you to remove it completely. Your head fell back in a gasp as his cool hands slipped underneath your own shirt, pressing softly into the flesh of your back, and impossibly closer to him. You had planned on studying, truly, but now that he was flush against you, his length against your stomach you realized you might never think of latin ever again.

"Take it off" you whispered in his ear and he finally detached himself from your neck, careful to not leave any marks. His eyes searched yours for any uncertainty but you didn't seem uncertain at all so he didnt hesitate to grip the red fabric and pull it over your head, lifting your hair with it. His eyes dropped instantly, taking in your bare form, hair swooshing down, and making you look like an angel. He realized none of Charlie's dirty magazines could never ever compare to the real thing. To you.

You realized his nerves and slowly grabbed his hands in your own. You gave him a reasurring smile as you lifted them, placing them directly on your chest. Nervously his hands cupped around your breasts, squeezing softly as he determined exactly what it felt like. He didn't want to hurt you after all. Your head tipped back at the feeling, a small whimper leaving your mouth and he realized he much preferred that one over Hopkins. As if his body was on auto pilot his mouth moved to cover your own, to swallow your whimper, and sear it into his heart forever.

Your hands fell up one his shoulders, guiding him towards your dorm bed. Neil’s hands only left your chest when the back of his knees met the edge of your bed and he fell down into it. Propping himself up on his elbows he watched as you shimmied out of the silk shorts, leaving you in a white pair of underwear, a small bow right in the center. His eyes locked onto it like a missile to its target as you lifted yourself to straddle his lap. Neil fell back in the sheets, groaning as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fuck, there is no way this is real right now” he spoke his thoughts out loud and you giggled lightly, leaning down so your face was hovering right over his.

“You treat me like I’m worth something Neil Perry, because of that I have no issue allowing myself to feel things for you” you whispered to him, wanting him to know that in this shit show of a school at least there was one other kindred spirit just like his.

“You should know you’re the only person I’ve felt things for ever” he told you in return and you smiled before sweetly kissing him, something you planned on doing for as long as you could.

You deepened the kiss once Neil’s hands gripped your waist, planting you firmly above his erection and trying desperately to not rut into you like a needy dog. Yet he was failing miserably because he could feel you everywhere and the sensation of your bare chest against his own was about to become much better. His thoughts were halted when your fingers curled into his waist band, head pulling away from his own as your eyes flashed to his bare torso. He looked at you pleadingly, begging you to do anything, so you stood up, tugging the sweatpants down along with his plaid boxers.

Never would you have guessed Neil Perry would be naked in your dorm bed yet here he was, in all his glory, clearly doing everything he could to last. Which he wasn’t going to much longer because now your were on your knees, delicate fingers tracing along the vein on the underside of his cock. The image more perfect than the first time he imagined it, the first time he had imagined you. “I’m gonna take care of you”

And then your tongue was licking a long stripe from the base of his dick to the very top. Your lips closing around to give it a soft kiss and Neil felt tears beginning to fill his eyes, a desperate mess and so needy for you. The effect you had was dangerous and he was done for, officially. He should just drop out. Then he couldn’t think of that any longer as your mouth finally closed around him, taking as much as you could. He rutted against the back of your throat, your hands palming his balls and he felt himself begin to tremble. You only smirked at the reaction, sucking him for all he was worth.

“I’m not, I’m not gonna make it” he stuttered out but before he could succumb to his needs you were releasing him with a pop, a small smirk on your face as he lost his orgasm. You felt only a little guilty as he looked at you so wounded.

“Don’t worry baby, I want us to finish together” you told him, now standing as you slid your panties down your legs. Neil cursed himself for hardening quickly again at the sight. You sucked in a sharp breath as the cool air met with the wetness of your core and before you could straddle Neil again he was sitting up and gripping your hips, fingers digging softly into the flesh of your ass.

“Could I-, could I taste you?” he nervously asked and you smiled at his shyness before nodding. Neil stood, allowing you his place on the bed where you allowed yourself to relax. “This is my first time”

“I’ll teach you” you encouraged and he nodded, now dropping to his knees himself. You had been so worked up that when he finally dared to run a finger through your folds you were tightening around nothing. Neil took a moment to explore, really see what it all looked like, a curious thumb pressing to your clit. When he heard you take a sharp rush of air in he looked up alarmed and you just chuckled.

“That’s the sweet spot handsome” you explained and he took this information in as he continued to look. In a daring moment Neil leaned forward, tongue dragging through your folds before pressing firmly on your clit again. He was shocked to find how good you tasted, not expecting it to be like this. The moment he realized how much you liked it he dug in like it was his last meal. Savoring it and hoping to keep your taste on his tongue the rest of the night.

Neil was a fast learner. After only a few more tips and adjusting his position he had you wreathing beneath him, you fingers practically trying to rip the hair out of his head. You could feel him rutting against the side of the bed and the minute you felt your stomach begin to tighten you pushed him back, panting out heavy breaths. “I need you inside of me right now”

Neil blushed and you leaned over to dig for the one condom you had come to Welton with. You had never planned on using it and now you realized you needed to figure out how to get more. You sat up and rolled the condom on for him before moving to lay on the bed the correct way. Neil followed your lead and settled himself between your legs, dragging the tip through your folds. You moved to put your own hand down there, lining him up before nodding at him. He pushed in slowly, his length stretching you sweetly.

Neil realized no day dreaming could compare to the sight of you naked underneath him and the way your warmness enveloped him inside of you. Once he was fully inside he couldn’t stop himself from dropping his head down and sucking your nipple into his mouth. You hissed at the pleasure it gave you, realizing he had gotten more comfortable during all of this. Slowly he started to move inside you, sucking so hard at each breast you realized he was leaving them covered in hickeys. You grabbed his head, pulling it up to kiss his mouth as he begun to hit the sweet spot inside of you.

Of course he couldn’t seem to leave your breasts alone, hands finding them as he kissed like you were his and he was going to keep it that way. Soon enough he was pounding into you like his life depended on it, you prayed the other girls couldn’t hear the bed squeaking or your moans. You wished you could let out the pornagraphic sounds you were holding back to avoid getting caught.

You felt your stomach begin to tighten again and Neil could feel you clenching around him. His thrusts began to get sloppy and in a moment of courage he took his hand and behind to rub your clit just like he learned and you were milking him for all he was worth in seconds. Neil allowed himself to finish as well, practically falling on top of you as he collapsed, the euphoric feeling making him dizzy.

“I guess even though we didn’t study you at least learned something” you said, pressing small kisses into the side of his neck. Neil chuckled lightly, lifting himself up to look in your eyes.

“I hope you know this wasn’t my intention. I mean I’d thought about it but I was at least hoping to take you on a date first” it was your turn to giggle and you pulled him down to give him a quick kiss.

“I know, that’s why I let you do it” you told him and he smiled, leaning back down, and hugging you close.

“I plan on keeping you” he whispered into your skin and you smiled, a hand running through his hair, him still inside of you, and warming your heart for the first time all year.

“Baby we’re the new romantics”

[her-soliloquies]

Wilson having no idea what furniture to buy

+

Bonus: Wilson knowing exactly what furniture to buy

[jakegyllenbaalz]

dead poets society, dir peter weir (1989)

[dearestro]

Knight in Plaid Boxers

Summary: James will always be there to save you from danger...big or small.

Warnings: Innuendos and crude language.

Wilson's Pov

I woke up upon hearing a scream.

"James, help!" Recognizing my wife's voice and the empty space next to me, I quickly got up, fearing the worse.

"Shit, shit! Where is it?" I whispered to myself as I searched through the closet looking for the baseball bat she had insisted on keeping 'just in case'. Finally finding it, I armed myself and ran out to the kitchen screaming. Not the smartest idea, but continuing to hear my wife's screams of fear I only had one thought: to scare the intruder. I reached the kitchen and swung blindly, still screaming and shouting only to be met with my wife's voice.

"What the hell are you doing?" I opened my eyes to see her standing on the counter, totally unharmed.

"I-I heard you screaming? I thought- I thought you were being hurt?" I asked as I tried to catch my breath, very confused with the situation. She looked at me like I was insane.

"Yeah, because of the spider!" She pointed to the floor. My eyes followed her finger to see the remains of a mug and a spider crawling around. My hands fell to my side, and I dropped the bat in disbelief.

"What?" I looked at her incredulously.

"Babe, kill the freaking spider!" She continued to point before shrieking when it started towards her. I rubbed my hand over my face and sighed before carefully kneeling beside the broken glass and picking it up.

“It’s only a daddy long leg. You know, I don’t think they’re even classified as spiders.” I picked it up and laughed, seeing how small it was. I started to walk closer to her to show her, but she screamed and pushed her back against the cupboard.

“James Evan Wilson! So help me! If you come any closer I-I…I’ll withhold sex for a month!” I stopped and frowned at her threat before looking back at the ‘spider’ struggling in my fingers.

“Sorry buddy. You heard the lady. It’s either you or me, and well…I’m sure there’s plenty of lady spiders outside.” I opened the sliding glass door and threw him out before coming back to my wife’s aide. “Will you come down now? As much as I enjoy the view, I don’t want you to get hurt.” I approached her as she nodded. I was careful to avoid the broken shards of glass on the floor.

Once I got to her side, I picked her up bridal style.

“My beautiful damsel in distress.” I rolled my eyes and kissed her cheek, and she snuggled closer.

“My handsome knight in plaid boxers.” She laid her hand on my cheek and stroked her thumb on my under eye. I smiled at her. She’s a handful, but she’s mine.

“You know usually the hero gets a reward for saving the princess…” I smirked at her.

“And what…reward…do you have in mind?” Her eyebrow raised even though she clearly knew what I had in mind. I kissed her as I took her out of the kitchen before wiggling my eyebrows at her suggestively. She laughed. "What about the broken mug?" I shrugged.

"We'll deal with it tomorrow."

"What if Sara hurts herself?" We entered the bedroom.

"She's a cat, I'm sure she'll be fine." I said sarcastically while rolling my eyes, I could tell her worry was just a way of teasing me. I set her on her side of the bed before going over to my own. She smirked up at me.

"Alright, if you insist." She feigned disinterest. I smiled before jumping onto the bed and attacking her neck and face with my lips. We continued making out for a little as things got more heated until Sara jumped up onto the bed and tried to wiggle between us. Suddenly, she pulled back. I tried to capture her lips again, but she put her hand on my chest. "As much as I love you and enjoy this babe, I'm not doing 'it' in front of the cat." I frowned, looking at the cat, who was now curled up on the bed sleeping.

"I can kick her out." I said a little too desperately. She shook her head.

"It’s like two in the morning. You have to get up for work tomorrow, sweetheart." She said before leaning over and kissing me. "Goodnight. I love you." And with that, she laid down and went to bed. I groaned and glared at Sara.

"Damn cat." I mumbled before laying down and turning to my side. I was still...calming down when I felt an arm wrap around me. I smiled.

This was nice, too.

Author's Note: I'm working on the requests! This was just a small/easy idea I had in my notes that I thought I could publish as a filler.

Also, is this any good, or is it like weird? idk I'm always worried when I write in his pov and the entire thing is in it.

P.S.

When writing this, I imagined the mug to be one that House got them for their wedding that just has his face on it. I don't know. OH! And when he ran out with the bat, he was in his McGill sweatshirt and plaid boxers with white socks. Again, just the image I had when writing, lol.

[clowningcrows]

guys i miss anderperry

[shmaptainwrites]

'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader receive some news that changes everything

WARNINGS — Cancer, cancer treatments (chemotherapty, radiation), hospitals, medical emergencies, ambiguous ending, lots of angst and hurt comfort

NOTE — Yeah so this is technically ansgty James fic no. 2 not no. 1, I personally love the way this one turned out but just a reminder that if you find any of the things mentioned in the warnings triggering please don't read it and put your mental well-being first!

James could feel his heart beating out of his chest. The pounding was ringing in his ears, so much so he could barely hear his colleague as he spoke to him. He thought he probably looked stupid, his mouth hanging slightly agape. 

When he turned around to see you, somehow you were taking the news in much better stride than he was, hands curled up in your lap, nodding along as the doctor spoke. 

As his colleague finished speaking he handed you a few papers to look through, but motioned to James, for what at this point James wouldn’t be able to tell, his ears still ringing as the blood drained from his face. On his way out, the fellow doctor patted James on the shoulder. He assumed it was supposed to be reassuring, but nothing could help him at that moment. 

He wondered if all these years this is how his patients had felt, that even with the most gentle delivery, it wouldn’t change the fact that everything was about to change.

You didn’t say anything, simply looking through the papers and placing a hand on his leg giving it a small squeeze. 

He ran a hand through his hair before bringing it down to hold yours that was resting on his leg. He squeezed it so tight, but you continued reading, giving him a few more moments to adjust. 

Eventually, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer, so you broke it. 

“Jamie-,” 

“How are you so calm?” he interrupted you immediately. 

“My reaction isn’t going to change what’s happening,” you whispered. 

He ran his hands over his face, biting back the tears that were pooling in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be like that,” he chuckled humourlessly and you simply wrapped an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to be,” you murmured. “Not with everything racing through your head.” 

Your thumb brushed across his forehead, pushing some of his hair out of the way. 

“I’m still here,” you whispered. “I’m here now.” 

He sniffed and tried to sit up straighter, wiping his eyes and nodding his head. 

“You’re right,” he cleared his throat. “I-I’m gonna go tell Cuddy I need to head out early. Wait by my office?” 

“Sure,” you agreed. 

James stood up to leave, but you stopped him. 

“Jamie,” you curled your finger, telling him to come closer, which he did, allowing you to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.” 

“I-I love you too,” he held your face in one hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “So much.” 

You smiled while he let his hand drop, making his way to Cuddy’s office. He didn’t feel like it was time to reveal the news in its entirety, so he blamed it on a household emergency for the time being, and Cuddy, knowing James would never leave work without good reason, easily let him go as long as one of the other doctors took care of his patients. 

It wasn’t hard to find someone willing to cover for him. James was well-liked and had made a few friends over the course of his time at Princeton Plainsboro. When he came to his office to grab you to head out, he saw you sitting quietly on the couch, reading one of his medical encyclopedias. 

“Are you sure you want to be looking at that?” he asked, his jacket slung over his arm as he leaned in the door frame. 

“I was just curious,” you said simply, closing the book. “Let’s go home.” 

You pushed yourself up off the couch and James wrapped an arm around your shoulder to rub your arm before dropping his hand and intertwining it with yours. 

The drive home started out silent; aside from the music playing in the background. You had glanced through James’ CD folder, picking something familiar and sliding it into the player. 

“Oh come on,” James looked over at you and you playfully smiled. “Really, honey?” 

“I figured we could use some smiles,” you nudged him gently, careful not to alter his steering. “I take it you remember this one then?” 

“Of course I do,” he moved his hand from the gear shift to hold yours. “You forced the band to play it at our wedding, much to their horror.” 

“It’s not that bad,” you chuckled. 

“You sure? Because I’m fairly certain you’re the only one enjoying themselves whenever it comes on,” he teased. 

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself right now.” 

“Only because you are.” 

He focused back on his driving, still steering one-handed. When you pulled into the driveway of your house, you grabbed your purse and James took his jacket and briefcase and you went around and entered from the back door which you had left unlocked. 

After you got settled, changed into something more comfortable and went to sit on the couch, James came up and handed you a glass of water with a Tylenol. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting next to you. 

“Aside from the headache I’m okay,” you assured him after taking the medication. “Feeling lucky.” 

“Lucky?” he scoffed incredulously. He felt the opposite of lucky and he wasn’t even the sick one. 

“Yeah. Lucky to have you,” you placed the water down on the coffee table before turning in his direction and holding his face in your hands. “Not everyone in my position can say their husband is an oncologist.” 

He nodded his head, “You’re right, they can’t. W-When are we supposed to go in for your first appointment?” 

“Tomorrow. I told him we’d like to start treatment as soon as possible,” you kissed his forehead. “Plus, you can come visit me while you’re working. I’ll be right in your backyard.” 

“You’ve definitely got that right,” he held your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss to your hand. 

You moved so you were laying down with your back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your hair. 

“Jamie?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Just because I’m trying to stay positive,” you started with a quiet voice, “it doesn’t mean I’m not scared.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he assured you and ran his hands up and down your arms. 

“Just promise me that even if we’re both scared, you’ll never stop being honest with me. Even if it’s hard and even if it’s looking bad.” 

“Of course. We’re in this together, just like always.” 

His words gave you enough comfort to close your eyes, knowing that with the next little while having many shifts and changes, it would probably be good that you get as much rest as you could. 

—

“Hey, I brought you some food from home for lunch,” James said as he pulled open the sliding door and entered your hospital room. 

“Thanks, but I don’t really have much of an appetite right now,” you admitted. 

“Chemo this morning?” he asked and you nodded. “That’s okay, I’ll just put it here in case you change your mind.” 

“House dropped by to see me,” you said, placing your hands in your lap with raised brows. 

“Oh, now that is surprising. He hates visiting patients.” 

“That’s what I said,” you chuckled, “but he had come to the very rational conclusion that since we were already acquainted and we knew what was wrong with me it was okay to come and say a quick hello.” 

“That’s definitely House,” James nodded. “I hope he didn’t say anything totally off-putting, you know how he is.” 

“It was fine,” you assured him. “He loves you too much to bother me like that.” 

“If it feels like too much to do the treatment here just say the word and we can change hospitals,” James said. “I know there’s lots of people you know wandering around these halls so if at any point you feel uncomfortable just tell me, okay?” 

“I will, but I’d rather be here. It’s close to you and you trust your colleagues, that’s enough for me.” 

“Are you sure? And you’re looking a little feverish, are you hot? And-,” 

“James, please, I’m fine,” you reached out and held his hand. “I love you and I promise I’m okay right now.” 

“You never call me James.” 

“I was trying to put emphasis on what I was saying so you knew I was serious,” you gave him a half smile. 

“You promise to tell me if something feels off? Even now with your appetite, if you feel nauseous we can give you something to help with that.” 

“I promise,” you assured him. “Cross my heart and hope to-,” you stopped, chewing on your words before deciding on just saying. “Cross my heart.” 

“Okay,” he sighed. “I’ll try and let up, but it’s going to be hard.” 

“I know, which is why I appreciate you trying,” you squeezed his hand. 

“My lunch break is almost over. I should probably head back.” 

You could sense he didn’t want to leave, so you motioned for him to come to you so you could give him a kiss to help him get through the rest of the day. 

“You know, you’re still as beautiful as the day I met you,” he smiled at you. 

“The day you met me I was covered head-to-toe in mud and was pissed off like there was no tomorrow,” you laughed. 

“Exactly,” he winked and you rolled your eyes, blowing him a kiss as he walked out of your room. 

James was in decent spirits for the next part of his shift. Even though he was stressed and tired, he found ways to help and connect with his patients along with their worried family members, feeling a new sense of empathy for them and their situation. 

He handled everything as he usually did, but with an extra added care that could only come from personal experience. Every patient was different, some wanted to know every detail and others nothing at all and he did his best to accommodate each one. 

He was speaking with one of the family members later in the day about what the next steps in treatment could look like. In this case the cancer was at an early stage and could be treated by a variety of means as it hadn’t metastasized. 

James was interrupted when he heard a scream of pain coming from across the hall. He would have let someone else deal with it, but he recognized the sound of the voice crying out in hurt. 

“I-I’m so sorry can you excuse me,” he said quickly while running towards your room, seeing you hunched over by your bed, clutching onto your leg while a nurse attended to you and your oncologist ran past James to see what was happening. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What is it?” 

“Looks like DVT,” his colleague said. “We need to get her into an OR to remove the clot.” 

He called for someone to prepare the OR and James quickly rushed to your side, holding onto you while you were still doubled over in pain. His mind was racing, what had changed in the few hours he hadn’t been with you? You were fine before. Was there a cause outside of the chemo? Something that aggravated the situation? 

“God!” you grimaced through gritted teeth, gripping onto your leg as they moved you onto the gurney. “Jamie, it hurts,” you cried. 

“I know,” his hand rested on your forehead, his thumb gently moving back and forth. “I know, honey. They’re giving you something for the pain right now and they’re going to get you to an OR to deal with it.” 

Tears were streaming down your face when they finally injected you with a painkiller and one of the nurses came to say the OR was prepped and they were ready for you to be brought in. James walked next to your bed, his hand in yours until they came past the doors leading to the operating rooms where Cuddy had seen the events unfolding and quickly stepped in, grabbing him before he went any further. 

“Wilson, you can’t go in there,” she said. 

“What do you mean I can’t go in there, I need to-,” 

“She’s your family. You can’t.” 

James blinked a few times before swallowing thickly. Cuddy was right, they couldn’t make an exception for him just because he was a doctor. The procedure would turn out fine and everything would be okay. If only he could play the role of a concerned loved one, but no. He had to go back to work. 

“Take ten,” she said. “Get some water, take a breather.”

James clenched his jaw and nodded his head, moving away from the door and going instead to his office, quickly apologizing to the family member he was speaking to earlier, saying something had come up and he might be a moment. 

When he entered his office and shut the door and squeezed his eyes shut, begging himself not to cry, not when he had to go back to work. Dealing with the cancer treatment when he knew every possible side effect and everything that could go wrong like it was written on the back of his hand was difficult enough, but hearing you in pain, screaming for it to stop almost jolted his heart. 

He took Cuddy’s advice and grabbed a bottle of water, drinking some of it before deciding his best course of action was to get to work, distract himself. 

He went first to finish his conversation then do his rounds before heading down to the clinic before it closed. 

Just as his shift was about to end he heard the sound of his pager go off and he checked it, seeing a message from Cuddy that simply said: 

SHE’S FINE

Allowing him to finally let out a sigh of relief. 

You’d first be in post-op for a day or so recovering from the surgery then they would move you back to your regular room. 

As soon as his shift was over he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going home any time soon, so he searched in his bag for a change of clothes, finding a t-shirt, a sweater, and a pair of jeans and decided to get changed. 

As he walked in the hallway towards post-op he ran into a colleague from the department who was about to make a comment on his attire before he stopped her, 

“I’m off duty. Don’t worry, I’m not turning into House.” 

She nodded her head with a bit of a chuckle before wishing him a good night. 

When he came into your room you were still under anesthesia from the surgery so he pulled up a chair next to your bed and quietly waited for you to wake up.

After the kind of day he’d had, he was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. He felt his head slump and his eyes closed and he couldn’t be bothered to fight the sleep that came. 

Some time later, James could feel a light brush against his arm, pulling him out of his sleep. His eyes blinked open and he could see your arm reaching out for him. 

“Hey,” he rubbed his eyes before leaning forward in his chair, his hand caressing the side of your face. “You’re awake.” 

“That might be a stretch,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. 

“Let me get you some water,” he stood up and grabbed the pitcher and a cup, filling it with water and helping you drink some of it. 

“It’s late, how long have you been here?” you asked, holding his wrist while he came to sit next to you on the bed. 

“Since the end of my shift,” he yawned. 

“Jamie, you have work tomorrow. You should have gone home and gotten some sleep. Or even slept on the couch in your office,” you chastised. 

“And leave you in here alone?” he shook his head. “No way.” 

You moved slightly in the bed, off to the side and carefully turning so you were now lying on your leg that hadn’t been operated on, making just enough room for James to lie down next to you. You patted the empty spot on the bed and he didn’t fight you, kicking off his shoes and lying down with his forehead gently resting against yours and his hand holding your cheek. 

You were still fighting a little against the anesthetic to stay awake and James could see you trying your hardest to keep your eyes open. 

“It’s okay,” he kissed the space between your eyebrows. “Let’s sleep. You’ve got recovering to do and I have work.” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed and let your eyes close, feeling much more comfortable than before now that you were in the embrace of your husband. 

—

While you and James were both grateful the chemo and radiation hadn’t brought on any more complications, it was beginning to get harder to function on a daily basis. Whether it was the battery of tests they performed or the pain and sickness that came along with it and the treatment, it was taking every ounce of energy you had left to not be miserable. 

Unfortunately, James was spread a little thinner and he was miserable. 

You both practically lived at the hospital at this point and he couldn’t stand getting off work only to see that your symptoms from the treatment were getting worse every day. 

“Jamie, I’m sorry I can’t think straight, everything is really foggy right now. You’re going to have to ask him what he told me,” you sighed. “I’ll write it down next time, promise.” 

“Sure, that’s okay,” he held your hand brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “It’s just the chemo, the fog will go away sometime after the treatment is over.” 

“You think we’ll get to that point?” 

“I was trying to be more positive like you,” he teased. “But it might get to that point and it might not. And if it does, it’s because it’s stage 3 there’s a higher chance of relapse.”

“Just means we get to hang out more,” you wiggled your eyebrows and James laughed a little. 

“I don’t know how you do it, honey,” James sighed. “I’d be spinning in circles if I were you. I’d be doing it right now if it weren’t for you.” 

“Just takes a little bit of delusion and a whole lot of denial,” you joked. “And maybe a little bit of worry too.” 

James looked at you curiously and you went on.

“Worry that if I’m miserable then that cute oncologist that keeps visiting me might start to spiral.” 

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “You don’t have to be strong for me.” 

You were too tired to fight the tears forming in your eyes as you shook your head. 

“If I'm not strong for you, who's gonna do it Jamie? You’re already too busy being strong for me, for all of your patients, for your friends…” 

James leaned in closer to you, clasping your hand in both of his own, pressing a delicate kiss to it. 

“We’re a team. We look after each other,” you stated firmly. “So I’m gonna keep being positive even if this sucks ass because we both need it, okay?”

James nodded his head. 

“Okay, but promise me one thing.” 

You nodded for him to continue. 

“If it sucks a lot and you feel it in here,” he put a hand over your heart. “For the love of God, don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me, we’ll let it suck for a bit and then we can go back to being positive.” 

Your lips trembled a little until you bit down on your lower lip and slowly nodded your head. 

“Maybe it can suck for a bit right now,” you whispered, letting a tear slip from your eye. 

You were quick to wipe it away, but it wasn’t much use as tears silently flowed down your face. The exhaustion, the pain, the uncertainty, it was all getting to you and you just needed James’ permission to let it out. 

James came to sit on the side of your bed from his chair, leaning down and kissing away your tears. Eventually when the tears slowed he kissed your nose before gently playfully biting the tip of it, getting you to look up at him and his ridiculous idea of fun. 

“You look like a rabbit,” you sniffed. 

“Shoot, I was going for a squirrel,” he snapped his finger and you chuckled. “What do you say I do it again and see if I can get it right?” 

“Jamie,” you smiled and placed a hand on his arm, the other wiping the tears from your face. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, always.” 

—

You were grateful for the knock at your sliding door which pulled you away from the hospital food sitting on the tray in front of you. When you looked up you saw one of House’s diagnosticians, Eric Foreman motioning to ask if it was okay for him to come inside. 

You nodded your head and told him to open the door. 

“Hey,” he smiled while entering the room. “I know Wilson is out of town so I figured maybe you could use a little bit of company.” 

“Usually I can survive without him, I think he’s probably worse off, at least I have nice company,” you motioned to the machines monitoring your heart rate and respiration. 

He laughed a little at that before pulling up a chair and sitting next to your bed. 

“He mentioned you don’t really like the food, so I snuck in a little something from outside,” he handed you a wrapped parcel. “Hopefully you find it up to standard.” 

“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you. I was having a hard time imagining how I’m supposed to eat this,” you pointed to the plate in front of you. 

You unwrapped the package and began to eat, in small controlled bites not wanting to aggravate any dormant nausea. 

“So how are you?” Foreman asked. “I mean aside from all this.” 

“Honestly not too bad. I get to see my husband a lot, I have people waiting on me hand and foot, it’s a decent gig being in bed,” you joked. “Although I am exhausted all of the time and find little enjoyment in watching soap operas on such a tiny screen so, really it's a toss up.” 

“Anything we can bring you from home or outside to help?” 

“If I think of anything I’ll let you know,” you nodded. “But company is nice when I have the energy for it. You’re lucky you caught me right after a nap.” 

“I’ll get Cameron and Chase to stop by at some point too. I could also ask House, but he’s not going to listen to me,” he pressed his lips together and you chuckled. 

“No, he marches to the beat of his own drum,” you agreed, “but he’ll come by every once in a while. I can;t decide if his visits are fun, depressing, or maybe it’s just an emotional rollercoaster.” 

“I think his patients would agree with you,” Foreman leaned back in his chair. 

“Speaking of patients, any interesting cases recently you can tell me about?” you asked. 

“Hmm, there was that one a while ago where there was this whole complication with a transplant and organ donation. The transplant committee wouldn’t give the guy a heart because he was in his sixties, and then the procurement team wanted to throw out a heart because it tested positive for Hep. C. Turns out, after House managed to convince the husband to still let his wife’s organs be used, it wasn’t Hep. C. and we were able to treat it and do the transplant.” 

“So you had to diagnose a dead woman in order to save a man’s life?” you asked and Foreman nodded. 

“Definitely one of our more interesting cases.”

There was a comfortable pause where you ate a little more food before coming up with another question to ask. 

“Tell me,” you started. “How’s Jamie when he’s working? I know you don’t work with him directly, but he’s always with House so your paths must intersect a bit.” 

“He’s…” Foreman tried to find the words to describe your husband’s demeanour. “Some days are good and others aren’t, but no one blames him for it.” 

“I figured as much,” you sighed. “Don’t tell him I said this, but if something goes wrong, and something happens to me, I don’t want to leave him like that. We’ve both had really bad luck when it comes to love and I just… I don’t think either one of us would recover from losing the other.”

“It’s really sweet that you think that, but you’re not going to have to find out,” Foreman assured you. “You’re gonna live long enough to get to the point in your relationship where you can read his mind. Telepathy comes after the 20th anniversary, right?” 

You laughed, “Yeah I think so.” 

“Seriously though, even in the off chance that something does happen, Wilson is well-liked here, hell he’s loved. There’s more than a few people that will look after him.”

“Thanks, Foreman. And I sure as hell hope you’re right.” 

—

“God, I missed it here,” you smiled as you walked into your home for the first time since you had begun your intensive treatment. “And it’s clean!” 

“Because I’m never here, there’s probably moldy food in the fridge and dust everywhere,” James chuckled, holding you from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“So how long do I get to stay here?” you asked. 

“A few days as long as nothing happens and I asked for some time off so I will be here with you for all of it.” 

“Good, because I need your cooking skills. I think the hospital food was taking the nutrients away from my body,” you exaggerated, taking off your shoes and sitting on the couch. 

“I think that’s probably the chemo,” James corrected you and you shook your head. 

“No, it was definitely the food.” 

“Then let’s get something to eat,” he suggested and put his hand out for you to take. You did and walked to the kitchen together, noticing all the bags of groceries on the floor and counter. 

“I thought you said the food was moldy?” 

“The food in the fridge definitely is,” he assured you. “I just thought it might be a good idea to get something edible for you.” 

“You’re very considerate,” you gave him a quick kiss. 

He made you a quick snack to start and you ate together by the counter before you went to your room and laid down on the bed. 

“Jamie you’re gonna have to drag me away from here when we go back,” you moaned into the pillow. “It’s the little things, really,” you sighed. 

“I’m glad you’re comfortable,” he sat down on his side of the bed, looking down at you. “I hated sleeping here without you.” 

“You clearly didn’t do it often because from what I could remember you only slept at home when I begged you to. That’s why the dark circles under your eyes are just as big as mine,” you lifted your hand to brush against his cheekbone. 

“Hopefully we’ll both get a good sleep tonight.” 

It was wishful thinking. After dinner, you watched a movie together in the living room before calling it an early night and getting ready to go to bed. 

For the first few hours, you were both asleep, James with his arm wrapped around your midsection as he spooned you, but sometime around two or three o’clock in the morning James was awoken by your figure shaking next to him. 

He quickly became fully awake and turned on the bedside lamp seeing you still curled up on your side, sweat dripping from your brow while you convulsed. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath and grabbed a thermometer, gently waking you and checking your temperature. 

“Jamie, w-what’s going o-on?” 

He didn’t say anything initially, looking at the thermometer and realizing he had to call the ambulance. 

“You have a really bad fever,” he said while running over to the desk and grabbing the phone. “We need to go back to the hospital, right now.”  

He called 911 and quickly explained the situation to them, packing a bag while he did so. He stayed on the line with them while helping you get up and move to the living room. Soon after the ambulance arrived and he was able to hang up and open the door for the paramedics. 

“What’s going on, sir?” one of the paramedics asked. 

“It-It’s my wife, she has cancer a-and she’s got a neutropenic fever, it’s above 100.4. I’m a doctor, and her oncologist is at Princeton-Plainsboro. If you put her on IV antibiotics we can take her there.” 

The paramedics listened, putting you on the gurney and rushing you out of the house. James slung the bag over his shoulder and jumped in the back of the ambulance with you. He let the paramedics do their job, simply holding on tightly to your hand. 

When you arrived at the hospital, they wheeled you away to the ER. He knew they would have to see if an infection caused the fever and get you stable and bring down the fever. 

He took a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose before heading up to his office to drop off the bag and call your oncologist. 

“Hey, Ted… Yeah we just got here… I just woke up and she was shaking like crazy. I-I thought it might have been a seizure at first, but she woke up when I touched her and I checked her temperature…Yeah, I did all that,” he nodded. “I’m sorry it’s so late I just-,” he bit down on his tongue to stop his voice from wavering. “Okay, thanks Ted, I’ll see you soon.” 

He hung up the phone and bent down over his desk, finally letting his emotions overcome him. 

He hated the way his shoulders trembled and shook so violently, only reminding him of you fighting off your fever down in the emergency room. There had only been a few occasions where James had felt like breaking down over the course of your treatment. This was the only time he allowed it to actually happen. 

His own weight soon became too much to hold and he let himself sink down to the ground, his back against his desk. He sat with his knees almost pressed against his chest and his hands covering his face to stifle the sobs that were escaping past his lips. 

James wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but by the end of it his eyes were red and puffy and all of the energy was drained from his face. In any other circumstance, had he been feeling even a little bit upset or sad, he knew you would always be there to comfort him, to hold him and talk through things, and he felt dejected knowing right now you needed him as much as he needed you and all he could do was sit on the sidelines and hold you hand. Four years of undergrad, four years of medical school, another four for residency and all this specialized knowledge on a disease, and yet he wasn’t even able to put it to much use for the person he loved most. 

It took him a little while longer to feel well enough to walk out of his office towards the washrooms to rinse his face with cold water, simultaneously waking him up and reducing the appearance of his puffy eyes. 

He then decided to go find out where they had moved you to and what things were looking like now. He assumed the fever was hopefully under control by this point and they could figure out if an infection had caused it. 

He ran into Ted who was speaking to a nurse, still dressed in casual clothes and without a white coat. James didn’t blame him; it was much too early to be awake. 

Ted excused himself from his conversation and went to go speak with James. 

“She’s stable,” he said, and the tension in James’ shoulders vanished. “It’s looking like it’s just the cancer that caused it, nothing else we have to treat on top of it. Being away from the IV and other things that were helping her body fight off the fever, it was only a matter of time before it kicked in.” 

“And-And um… what’s the course of treatment?” James asked, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“She’s most likely going to have to stay at the hospital until the cancer is gone. We did some recent scans and I think some of the tumor can be removed surgically, it won’t be too high risk when she’s recovered and then the chemo and radiation will have smaller things to target.” 

James ran a hand across his face and nodded, 

“Can I see her?” 

“I had her moved back to her room on the oncology floor and I got the nurses to put in a cot for you. Just maybe wait until the fever’s gone to share the bed with her,” Ted patted his shoulder as he walked away and James patted his hand in return as a thank you. 

When he went back upstairs to your room, he saw you were sound asleep, having probably been minorly sedated so you could get some rest. He pulled the cot next to the hospital bed and thankful he was already in his pyjamas, he slipped under the blanket and let the exhaustion overtake him.

—

“Jamie, you’re frowning again,” you ran your thumb over the crease between his eyebrows, smoothing it out. 

He held your hand along the side of his face, even though it was tight and a little cramped he loved sharing the hospital bed with you. 

“Maybe, I’m just grumpy. Can I be grumpy?” 

“Sure, but just don’t frown,” you yawned. “Your smile is too pretty and if you frown you’ll get wrinkles.” 

“But, if I smile I’ll get smile lines,” he countered, turning his head to kiss your hand. 

“At least we’d know you were happy. Anyone can get wrinkles, you have to smile to get smile lines,” you traced along his nose and down to his lips. 

“But I’m not happy,” James whispered. “That would be a lie.” 

“You’re not happy?” you looked at him with concern. 

“I promise I’m trying, really hard,” he clasped your hand between his warmer ones, “but seeing you like this every single day makes it really difficult to be happy.” 

You chewed on your cheek, “Guess this has been torture for both of us, watching each other fall apart.” 

“Yeah,” James sighed and looked down at the white sheets. 

“You don’t…You don’t regret marrying me… do you?” you said, your voice below a whisper. 

“No,” he responded quickly, pulling you in closer to him. “Not at all.” 

“The truth, James,” you insisted. “You don’t have to protect my feelings.” 

“That is the truth.” 

You didn’t say anything for a few moments trying to stay in the silence, worried of what would come up if you said anything more. 

“You regret it, don’t you?” he frowned softly, but instead of pulling away he squeezed you harder. You gripped onto his sweater, fighting the emotion in your voice,

“I hate how much I’m hurting you.” 

“You can’t control what’s happening,” he pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“But if you hadn’t met me, if we hadn’t fallen in love-,” 

“I would be just as miserable, but for different reasons,” he lifted your chin to look up at him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I know you don’t regret loving me and I sure as hell don’t regret loving you.” 

“Then why do you have that look in your eyes every time you see me? Like you can barely look at me.”

James swallowed thickly, the look wasn’t one in absence of love, if anything it was fuelled by that. 

Guilt. 

“I-,” he stopped and took a deep breath. “I should have caught it sooner. You were symptomatic a while before we got you tested for anything and I should have caught it.”

“And if you had caught it earlier we wouldn’t be here right now.” 

“You would have been done with your chemo and radiation by this point, we’d be at home putting all of this behind us, but now even if it goes away…” 

“You’re never going to be able to forget the fact that it could come back.” 

James didn’t even realize he’d begun to cry until you wiped away the tears from under his eyes with your thumbs, gently stroking his cheeks. 

“I don’t think anything I say can help you with what you’re feeling, but not once did I blame you… and I hope you can be kind enough to yourself to come to that same conclusion.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he wept, shaking his head. “I-I didn’t mean to m-make you feel like-,” 

“Jamie, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you placed your forehead against his. “One of the qualities I love most about you is your compassion, your forgiveness, just promise me you’ll try your best to extend the same courtesy to yourself.” 

He nodded his head, his nose pressed against yours and the pillow below you wet with tears on both ends. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

And in the end that’s what you kept coming back to. 

In sickness or in health. 

‘Til death do us part.

@marij0oo

[jasminesjournal]

Hopefully I didn't already ask this but if you're still taking requests like James Wilson and his lover's reaction to his love handles (especially if he's like insecure about them)

Idk I swear I saw someone say he had them and then I'm pretty sure House makes a joke about 'the ladies not loving the love handles' in one episode???

James’ Lovehandles

This is a head canon because why not and also I think this request fits better with one. Honestly he’s so cute.

I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to be so self-conscious (the guy flirts with every nurse he works with) but for the sake for this ask we’ll put a condition on it. Let’s just say that he’s self-conscious with someone he really loves. Just because someone cares more about their appearance and whatnot when it comes to the opinions of someone they really care about.

He’d probably take up the gym and then fall behind because let’s face it, between you, House, and his job he doesn’t have the time.

He still takes care of himself though. From what I’ve seen on the show he doesn’t eat nearly as much crap as House (he still eats a bit though).

In the beginning of the relationship he doesn’t like taking his shirt off.

He doesn’t like his stomach being touched.

And when you do touch him he has this nagging sensation in the back of his mind that tells him to pull away.

But when he does and you get sad he feels bad so that’s why he stopped pulling away.

If you figure it out that he has some issue you ask him what’s wrong.

“I just don’t like being touched there.”

“Why? There has to be a reason.”

“I have,” he sighs.

“You have what?” You prompt him to continue.

“Love handles.”

You’ll laugh and tell him that’s a silly reason for him to not want you to touch him and you thought he was hurt or something.

You’ll spend the rest of the time loving on him and making him feel less self-conscious.

Even feel around and tell him there’s a reason why they are called love handles.

“Why?” He asks with a blush. Your hands are feeling his stomach as you cuddle him in the couch.

“Because I have more of you to grip.”

This is how you find out James is ticklish on his stomach. You just grip his love handles and he starts laughing.

[pomegranateshrimp]

⚕️Finding you in the break room having a panic attack. (1)

Oneshot, Fluff, Comfort

James Wilson x Gn!reader

omg this gif of him>>

——————————————————

You worked on Houses team, and you were used to his usual berating of you and witty insults but today, today was different. Maybe he didn’t have the Vicodin. Maybe that was it. You didn’t know. Truthfully you didn’t care. What he said to you can’t just be blamed on his addiction. It truly shook you to your core, ringing in your ears as tears well up in your eyes. You were going to crack and didn’t want anyone else watching you while you did. You took your break early and marched into the break room. You didn’t have much time, as House didn’t give his team members any. But you decided to use what you had to just cry.

No one else was in the room, just you alone with your thoughts. You sat at the seat farthest from the door, in case anyone walked in, and you just started sobbing uncontrollably. Tears flowing out of you, spilling over your lash-line. You couldn’t stop them. You just kept thinking about what he said.

You killed the patient! You killed them and it’s all your fucking fault!

Your hands reached up to your head and you sulked. Your brain was going a million miles a minute. Was I cut out to work here? Should I just quit? House definitely seems to want me gone and I’m not exactly—

Your thinking was interrupted by the door swinging open lightly, and a familiar oncologist entering with a smile on his face and his lunch in his hand. He looked up and his cheery, warm, comfortable look on his face was replaced with one of worry.

“L/n? Are you okay?” The kind man quickly took a seat next to you, only wanting to help in any way he could.

You nodded wiping the tears from your eyes and returning to a stoic expression, acting as if you hadn’t been bawling a second ago; although Wilson could tell something was up.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned down a bit to try and look up at you, to just see what you were feeling, to try and understand and help. He wanted nothing more than to comfort you. Bless his heart, you had barely known the man and he was the person who was there for you the most.

“House yelled at me..” you mumble hoping he wouldn’t hear, tears pulling at your eyes again. You felt humiliated on so many levels, even if you knew Wilson’s intentions.

“What’d he say?”

You took a deep breath before continuing, making sure you didn’t break down mid-sentence.

“That I killed a patient. Except a lot worse than that.”

Wilson put a hand on your shoulder.

“Listen, I know House can be difficult, believe me, but you’re an amazing doctor, and an even better person. House is just dealing with his own stuff right now and wants to make other people just as miserable as he is. You didn’t kill anyone. Okay?”

You looked up finally and stared into his glossy kind eyes. You broke down, you couldn’t stop it but his kindness was so welcoming and you were running out of time on your break and you needed to let it out. You knew House would scold you if he knew you were crying like a bitch about his ‘light hearted jokes’. As if you were possessed, your body lunged forward and wrapped your arms tight around James, taking him by surprise and almost knocking the breath out of him. Despite his shock he welcomed you into his arms, letting your head rest on his chest. Everyone in the hospital knew about his endless string of flings with the staff, but right now, you didn’t care. He could’ve just been trying to get in your pants sure, but he wasn’t that kind of man. At least if he was, he did a good job at hiding it. He made you feel loved and cared for more than anyone else in this moment. And you adored every second of it.

As you soaked his shirt with your tears he brought a hand up from your back to your hair and started, not exactly playing, but more petting your hair. Not in a creepy way, just in a soothing way. He was trying to calm you down, and it was working. His other hand making small circles on your back as he whispered into your ear sweet phrases:

Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here for you.

And he really was.

A/N: oh em gee im so sry for not posting more 😭 Ik this was short but I hope it’s okay! reminder my requests are open (pls). ALSO I’m gonna do a part 2 so if you’ve made it this far, tysm for reading! Which character do you want to see in part 2?

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

The Tortured Poets Department

Charlie Dalton x Reader

Summary: You and Charlie were always more than just friends too bad Charlies too scared to admit it

Word Count: 9K

The cave loomed before her, its entrance bathed in soft shadows, while faint candlelight flickered from deep within. Y/N paused at the threshold, the cool night air brushing against her skin. The sounds of voices—laughter, snippets of poetry, and the occasional hushed murmur—floated out to her like a familiar melody. This place had always been her refuge, ever since Neil Perry had taken the chance and brought her into the fold. It wasn’t her school, and the legacy wasn’t hers to claim, but it didn’t matter. The poets had welcomed her as one of their own, and the cave had become her home in ways she hadn’t expected.

She shifted her weight, her fingers lightly brushing the rough surface of the stone. Inside, the group’s energy ebbed and flowed, alive with creativity and rebellion, each voice adding its own spark to the mix. This wasn’t just a gathering; it was freedom—the kind of freedom she could never find elsewhere. The words spoken here carried weight, every verse and line a quiet act of defiance against the world that tried to confine them.

And yet, as much as the society itself meant to her, there was one reason she couldn’t stay away. Charlie Dalton. He was the storm in this quiet sanctuary, the wild streak in the poetry, and the wildfire she could never ignore. His laughter rang out now, sharp and unrestrained, a sound that seemed to carry all the mischief and thrill he lived for. It sent a shiver through her, one that was as much anticipation as it was nervous energy.

Charlie had always been different. Where the others found solace in the safety of their words, he turned his into challenges. He pushed boundaries, dared authority, and refused to let anyone dictate who he should be. And yet, beneath that wild energy, there was something else—a passion, a brilliance, and a vulnerability he rarely showed. It was that combination that had drawn her in from the beginning, that kept her coming back to the cave night after night.

Her eyes scanned the group as she stepped inside, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating familiar faces. They turned to greet her with warm smiles and knowing glances, but her focus was already fixed. She found him easily—Charlie always had a way of standing out, even in the dim light. He sat perched on a rock near the back, his unruly hair catching the flicker of the candles as he gestured animatedly, no doubt telling a story or reciting a verse.

He noticed her almost instantly, his grin widening as their eyes met. That grin—so full of life, so full of trouble—sent her pulse racing. For all his chaos, for all the ways he drove her mad with his recklessness, Charlie Dalton had a gravity she couldn’t escape. And she didn’t want to. With his untamed energy and mischievous grin, had a way of drawing her in like no one else ever could. He was a wildfire, dangerous and beautiful, and she couldn’t help but get burned.

Y/N sank into her usual spot, the cold, uneven surface of the rock grounding her as Knox animatedly recounted the details of his latest victory: finally winning over Chris. His enthusiasm was infectious, and the group roared their approval, clapping him on the back and offering exaggerated toasts to his triumph. Y/N joined in with a soft smile, genuinely happy for him, but the ache in her chest persisted—a familiar weight she could never quite shake in moments like this.

Her eyes drifted across the flickering circle, landing on Charlie. He was sprawled out on his back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other holding a cigarette loosely between his fingers. The lazy grin on his face was pure Charlie—reckless, confident, and entirely at ease, like he had the world in the palm of his hand. He caught her staring and winked, a quick, casual gesture that set her pulse racing and her stomach twisting into knots. How did he do that? How did he always make her feel like the only girl in the room, even when he wasn’t trying? Even when he was chasing someone else?

She averted her gaze, biting down on the corner of her lip as Knox’s story came to an end. The group shifted seamlessly back to their poetry, the warm, familiar cadence of voices reading aloud by candlelight filling the cave once again. But no matter how she tried, Y/N couldn’t focus on the words. Her mind was elsewhere, drawn back to the boy across the circle—the boy who drove her mad in ways no one else could.

They weren’t together. Not officially, anyway. But sometimes, it felt like they were. The stolen glances, the late-night whispers, the way he sprawled across her lap during their quiet moments, tracing lazy patterns on her arm—it all blurred the lines. It was more than friendship, but less than certainty. And it was slowly tearing her apart.

Charlie was a flirt—always had been, probably always would be. His charm was magnetic, his boldness impossible to ignore. He’d flirt with anyone, and he made it look so effortless. It didn’t matter if it was a fleeting smile, a well-placed joke, or an offhand compliment—he always knew exactly what to say to leave people wanting more. Sometimes, that person was her. And sometimes, it wasn’t.

Her chest tightened at the thought, her smile faltering. Who else holds him like I do? she wondered bitterly. Who else deciphers the chaos behind his smirk, sees the cracks he hides so well? Who else knows him, if not me?

But knowing him wasn’t enough. Not when he turned those same grins and careless winks to anyone who crossed his path. Not when his attention, so intoxicating when it was hers, could so easily shift to someone else. It was a cruel game, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep playing—but one she couldn’t bring herself to quit.

The Summer Before, the memory came to her unbidden, vivid as if it had happened yesterday. Pulling her back to a warm August evening that felt like a lifetime ago. It was the last stretch of summer, the kind that tasted of freedom and endings all at once. The school year loomed just over the horizon, but for one fleeting day, none of it mattered.

She had spent the afternoon at the Dalton house, sprawled across Charlie’s bed as sunlight streamed through the half-drawn blinds, painting the room in a muted gold. The air was thick and lazy, and she’d made herself comfortable while he disappeared downstairs, claiming he needed to “liberate” something from his father’s liquor cabinet. His room was unmistakably his—a cluttered chaos of books, vinyl records, crumpled clothes, and scrawled notes on scraps of paper. It smelled faintly of cigarettes and cologne, a scent she could still recall with aching clarity.

When Charlie returned, triumphant and grinning, he carried two mismatched glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “The finest my old man has to offer,” he declared with a mock bow, pouring them each a generous measure. The whiskey burned her throat, making her cough and wince, but she drank it anyway, unwilling to let him see her flinch.

The hours passed in a haze of conversation and laughter. They dissected song lyrics like philosophers, debated poets like scholars, and mocked their own pretentiousness until they were doubled over with laughter.

“We’re not Patti Smith and Dylan Thomas, you know,” she teased, lying back against the pillows. Her fingers trailed absently over the worn quilt on his bed, the fabric soft and familiar under her touch. “This isn’t the Chelsea Hotel.”

Charlie snorted, settling beside her with a cigarette dangling from his lips. “We’re modern idiots,” he agreed, his voice warm and full of mischief. In his other hand, he clutched a half-eaten chocolate bar, and she watched as he absentmindedly alternated between taking a bite and flicking his lighter open and closed.

The afternoon melted into evening, the air cooling as the golden light gave way to a soft, dusky glow. Somewhere between their debates about the superiority of punk rock versus jazz and their shared musings about life’s absurdities, Charlie’s head found its way to her lap. She didn’t question it, didn’t hesitate, only smoothed his unruly hair with gentle fingers. His hair was soft, messier than usual, and tickled her skin when he shifted. He was unusually quiet now, his endless energy dimming as the day wore on.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and almost drowsy. The cigarette in his mouth bobbed slightly as he spoke, his words slurring just enough to reveal how tired he was. “You get me, you know that? Like, really get me.”

Her hand froze for a moment, mid-motion, as her heart stumbled in her chest. The simplicity of the statement caught her off guard. Charlie wasn’t one for heartfelt confessions, at least not ones that felt this raw, this real. She opened her mouth to respond, her mind scrambling for something to match the weight of his words, something that would let him know she felt the same. But before she could speak, his eyes slipped closed, the cigarette still loosely balanced between his fingers.

She eased it from his grasp and crushed it in the ashtray beside the bed, watching as his breathing evened out. His face was so different like this—peaceful, unguarded. Vulnerable in a way he rarely let anyone see. She stayed there for hours, running her fingers through his hair, memorizing every detail of the moment, knowing she’d carry it with her long after the summer faded.

That night became a part of her, etched into her memory like an old photograph—beautiful, bittersweet, and impossible to let go.

Sitting in the cave now, the air thick with candle smoke and murmured poetry, Y/N’s thoughts swirled like restless waves. She stared at the flickering light on the walls, trying to make sense of the ache in her chest. The cycle with Charlie—the stolen moments, the blurred lines, the lingering looks that promised everything but delivered nothing—was wearing her down. It felt like chasing shadows, reaching for something just beyond her grasp.

She’d thought about walking away more times than she could count. Maybe if she distanced herself, the pain of wanting more than he was willing to give would finally subside. Maybe the hollow ache that followed her home after nights like this would stop gnawing at her. The idea of pulling away, of reclaiming her peace, had a kind of seductive appeal. But just as quickly as the thought came, it unraveled, replaced by the fear of what that distance might mean—for her, for him, for whatever fragile connection they shared.

Her resolve had wavered countless times, but there was one moment that kept her tethered, one confession she hadn’t been able to forget. It had come from Meeks, of all people, on a night when the Dead Poets Society had celebrated a little too freely. She remembered the slurred edges of his words, the glassy look in his eyes as he leaned toward her, his sincerity cutting through the haze of whiskey and laughter.

“Charlie told me once,” Meeks had said, his voice low and unsteady, “if you ever left, he wouldn’t know what to do.”

The words had stunned her, slicing through her doubts like a blade. She’d pressed him for more, her pulse racing, but he’d only shrugged, as if it was the most obvious truth in the world. At the time, she’d dismissed it as drunken rambling, a loose thread of half-truths spun in the moment. But the memory had lingered, replaying itself in her mind over and over, as vivid and persistent as a song she couldn’t shake.

It had become an ember she couldn’t extinguish, no matter how much it hurt to keep it alive. It burned quietly in the back of her mind, a stubborn flicker of hope that refused to die. What if Meeks had been right? What if there was more to Charlie’s carelessness, his charm, his aloofness than she’d let herself believe? What if, behind the easy grins and bold declarations, he was just as lost as she was?

The possibility both thrilled and terrified her. Because if it was true, if there was something real beneath all the layers Charlie used to keep the world at bay, then leaving wouldn’t just be an escape. It would be a betrayal of something fragile, something she wasn’t sure either of them knew how to name. And if it wasn’t true? If she was clinging to a hope that didn’t exist? Then she’d only be prolonging the inevitable heartbreak.

The uncertainty was maddening, but still, she stayed. Still, she waited. Still, she burned.

The breaking point came a week later, during one of those evenings that felt deceptively ordinary. Charlie had invited her over, as he so often did, and they sat across from each other at the long, polished dining table, the soft clinking of silverware filling the spaces between their laughter. The Dalton house had always felt cold, more like a museum than a home, but Charlie’s presence had a way of softening the edges, making it bearable.

His parents barely acknowledged them, as usual. His father sat at the head of the table, eyes buried in a newspaper, while his mother moved in and out of the room, her focus elsewhere. It was always like this—a hollow kind of civility that Charlie seemed determined to fill with his wit and charm. Y/N had grown used to it, though it never stopped tugging at her heart. She knew how much he hated the emptiness of it all, even if he never said so outright.

They bantered easily, trading jokes and teasing each other like they always did. For a while, it was enough to keep her grounded, to remind her why she stayed, why she kept coming back even when it hurt. But then, in a moment so casual it felt almost unintentional, everything shifted.

Charlie reached beside her, his fingers brushing hers as he picked up her hand. His touch was light, almost absentminded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her breath caught as he toyed with the ring on her finger, sliding it off and holding it up to the light with a mock-critical eye.

“Nice ring,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing, though there was an edge of something else beneath it. Mischief, maybe, or something quieter, harder to define.

He slid the ring onto his own finger, grinning as he wiggled it in the air. “Think it suits me?” he asked, his tone light, though his gaze lingered on her in a way that made her stomach flip. Before she could answer, he pulled it off again and reached for her hand. This time, he slipped it back onto her finger, but not where it had been. Instead, he placed it on her left hand, on finger one reserved for promises neither of them had made.

Y/N froze, her heart lurching into her throat as she stared down at the ring. It gleamed faintly in the soft light, impossibly small but suddenly heavy. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she looked back up at Charlie, searching for some kind of explanation.

He didn’t offer one. Instead, he smirked, his thumb brushing lazily against her knuckles, the gesture so casual it felt almost dismissive. But his eyes… his eyes held something else entirely. A flicker of something she couldn’t name.

Her heart exploded in that moment, a chaotic mess of hope and despair that left her breathless. Did he even realize what he was doing to her? Did he have any idea how much weight that single action carried, how it sent her thoughts spiraling in every direction?

It was Charlie in his purest form—effortless, infuriating, and entirely unaware of the havoc he wreaked on her heart. Or worse, maybe he did know. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing, and he just didn’t care. The thought made her chest tighten, the ache of uncertainty threatening to swallow her whole.

Y/N didn’t make the decision all at once. It wasn’t a grand epiphany or a sudden resolve to cut Charlie out of her life entirely. Instead, it came in quiet moments, in the spaces between his laughter and her silence. It was the ache in her chest after nights spent waiting for something more, the hollow feeling that lingered after he turned his charm to someone else. Slowly, she began to pull away—not enough for anyone to notice at first, but enough to protect herself.

It started the next time he tried to sprawl across her lap during one of their quieter gatherings in the cave. Normally, she would have let him, her hands instinctively finding their way into his unruly hair. This time, she shifted slightly, leaning forward just enough to make the gesture awkward. He paused mid-movement, a flicker of confusion crossing his face before he laughed it off, settling against the rock beside her instead.

“You’re getting stingy with the lap space, Y/N,” he teased, shooting her that boyish grin that used to undo her. She forced a laugh, light and unbothered, and Knox jumped in with a joke that shifted the group’s attention. She was grateful for the distraction, even as she felt Charlie’s gaze linger on her a second too long.

She didn’t stop coming to the cave, didn’t stop sitting beside him during meetings. That would have raised questions, drawn attention she didn’t want. But she started drawing boundaries—subtle ones that only she noticed at first. When his fingers brushed hers, she pulled away just a little too soon. When his touch lingered on her arm or her shoulder, she found excuses to move, to shift her focus elsewhere. She stopped letting him hold her gaze for too long, stopped answering his teasing remarks with the same soft warmth she once had. Her responses grew neutral, her smiles polite but distant, her laughter quieter, less personal.

The hardest part was changing the way she spoke to him. She started to choose her words more carefully, deliberately moving their conversations away from the intimate territory they’d once inhabited. She spoke to him the way she spoke to Knox, or Neil, or Meeks—warm but friendly, never crossing the line into something more. When he teased her, she teased back, but the softness in her tone was gone. When he leaned in close, whispering some private joke just for her, she pulled back, laughing lightly but keeping the space between them.

Charlie noticed, of course. He wasn’t oblivious, even if he sometimes pretended to be. At first, he brushed it off with jokes, playfully calling her “cold-hearted” or “aloof.” But as the days turned into weeks, his remarks grew sharper, edged with a frustration he didn’t bother to hide.

One evening, after the group had dispersed and the boys were walking back toward Welton, her the other way, he finally called her out.

“You’ve been weird lately,” he said, his voice more serious than she’d expected. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his steps slower than usual as they walked side by side.

“Weird?” she asked, feigning confusion. “How so?”

He stopped, turning to face her. The dim light from the nearby lamppost cast shadows across his face, making his expression harder to read. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N,” he said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “You’re pulling away. I can feel it.”

Her stomach twisted at the raw honesty in his voice, but she held her ground. “I’m not pulling away,” she said, keeping her tone even. “I’m just... trying to make things easier. For both of us.”

“Easier?” He frowned, his brows knitting together in confusion. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” she began, taking a steadying breath, “that I think we need to set some boundaries. Clear ones. You’re my friend, Charlie. That’s all we’ve ever been, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and final. She saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes, quickly masked by a smirk that didn’t quite reach his usual bravado.

“Boundaries, huh?” he said, his voice tight with forced humor. “Didn’t realize you were such a rule-follower, Y/N.”

“I’m not,” she said quietly. “But I can’t keep doing this—not when it feels like I’m the only one who doesn’t know where we stand.”

His smirk faltered, and for a moment, she thought he might argue, might try to convince her to stay. But then he shrugged, his usual nonchalance sliding back into place like armor. “Whatever you say,” he said, turning and walking ahead without another word.

She stood there for a long time after he disappeared into the night, the ache in her chest sharper than it had ever been. But this time, it wasn’t unbearable. This time, she felt the faintest stirrings of relief beneath the pain—relief that she’d finally taken a step toward reclaiming her heart, even if it meant leaving part of it behind.

The shift was palpable, and everyone in the Dead Poets Society felt it. Where Y/N and Charlie had once been inseparable, now there was only a careful, deliberate distance. She no longer sat beside him in the cave. Instead, she found a spot near Knox or Neil, her focus firmly on the poetry or the discussions at hand. She laughed with the others, joked with them, even debated them—but with Charlie, there was only silence.

Charlie didn’t handle it well.

At first, he tried to keep things normal, filling the gap with his usual charm. He’d toss jokes her way, flash his signature grin, lean casually in her direction as though daring her to ignore him. But when her responses came clipped and polite, or worse, not at all, he started retreating too. His jokes turned sharper, tinged with bitterness he didn’t bother to hide. When she ignored those, he stopped trying altogether.

The quiet between them wasn’t hostile—it wasn’t anything at all. It was the absence of everything they’d once shared, and that was worse than any argument could have been. The others noticed, of course, though none of them dared to bring it up directly. Neil, ever the peacekeeper, occasionally tried to draw them both into group conversations, but it always ended awkwardly, with Y/N excusing herself early or Charlie storming off. Knox exchanged worried glances with Meeks and Pitts, but even they didn’t know how to fix something that had already fallen apart.

One evening, as the group gathered in the cave for another meeting, the tension came to a head. Y/N sat near Neil, her notebook open in her lap, the candlelight casting soft shadows across her face. Charlie was at the far end of the circle, sprawled on the ground with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He wasn’t paying attention to the poetry being read, his eyes instead fixed on her, unrelenting and unreadable.

She felt his gaze but refused to look up, her focus firmly on the poem Neil was reciting. Her heart beat faster, her pulse loud in her ears, but she forced herself to stay composed. This was what she’d chosen—distance, clarity, self-preservation—and she wasn’t going to backtrack now.

When Neil finished reading, the group broke into soft applause, and the conversation turned to the next meeting’s plans. Charlie stayed silent, which was unusual enough that it drew attention. Knox nudged him lightly, murmuring something she couldn’t hear, but Charlie only shook his head, his expression dark.

Finally, he broke the silence. “So, what? We’re just pretending this is fine?” he asked, his voice cutting through the chatter like a blade.

The group froze, everyone turning to look at him.

“Charlie,” Neil said cautiously, “what are you talking about?”

Charlie’s eyes stayed locked on Y/N. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She felt the weight of his words like a physical blow, but she refused to rise to it. She closed her notebook slowly, meeting his gaze with a calm she didn’t feel. “This isn’t the time or place for whatever you’re trying to start,” she said evenly.

“Isn’t it?” he shot back, sitting up now, his cigarette forgotten. “Because it seems like you’ve been avoiding this conversation for weeks. Or avoiding me, more like.”

The others exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly unsure whether to intervene or let it play out.

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Y/N said, her voice firm. “We’ve already talked about this, Charlie. There’s nothing left to say.”

His laugh was bitter, humorless. “Nothing left to say? That’s rich, coming from you. You used to never shut up around me.”

“That was before,” she said softly, her tone steady despite the ache in her chest. “Before I realized I needed to step back. For my own sake.”

“For your sake,” he repeated, the words laced with disbelief. “And what about my sake, huh? Did you ever think about that?”

Her composure wavered for a moment, but she held her ground. “You don’t even like me like that, Charlie,” she said quietly. “You never have. And I can’t keep letting myself believe otherwise.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Charlie stared at her, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. For a moment, she thought he might argue, might try to tear down the walls she’d built around herself. But then he laughed again, low and bitter, and stood abruptly.

“Fine,” he said, his voice cold. “If that’s how you feel, I won’t bother anymore.”

He turned and walked out of the cave without another word, his footsteps echoing in the stillness. The group sat frozen, the tension lingering like smoke in the air.

Y/N exhaled slowly, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her notebook to her chest. She could feel the others’ eyes on her, their unspoken questions heavy with concern, but she didn’t have the energy to explain. Instead, she stood and followed the path Charlie had taken—not to chase him, but to leave the cave entirely.

Outside, the cool night air hit her like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her emotions. She looked up at the stars, their distant light a stark contrast to the turmoil in her heart. She’d done what she needed to do, what she should have done months ago.

So why did it feel like she’d lost something she could never get back?

Y/N, once a vibrant and steady presence among the group, had grown quieter, more reserved. She still came to the meetings, still participated in the discussions and laughed at the jokes, but something in her had pulled inward. She became deliberate, careful, every word she spoke measured and free of vulnerability. It was as though she’d wrapped herself in armor, impenetrable and unyielding.

Charlie, on the other hand, was chaos. His laughter was louder, his jokes sharper, his need for attention almost desperate. He’d started flirting more—brazenly, recklessly—with anyone who would entertain him. Girls from other schools, waitresses at the diner, even strangers at the train station. It wasn’t subtle, and it wasn’t lost on the boys, who exchanged worried glances every time he sauntered into the cave smelling faintly of perfume and cigarettes, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

“Where’ve you been, Dalton?” Neil asked one evening when Charlie arrived halfway through their meeting, his tie loosened and his shirt rumpled.

Charlie shrugged, leaning lazily against the cave wall. “Busy,” he said with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know me—always finding trouble.”

The others laughed uneasily, but Y/N didn’t look up from her notebook. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for some reaction, but she gave him nothing. Her pen moved steadily across the page, her posture calm and detached.

“You’ve missed three meetings this month,” Neil pressed, his tone gentle but firm. “That’s not like you.”

Charlie scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Relax, Captain. Poetry isn’t going anywhere.”

“Neither is your mess,” Meeks muttered under his breath, earning a nudge from Pitts.

Y/N’s chest tightened, but she didn’t lift her gaze. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? Distance. Separation. A clear, definitive line between them. She had no right to feel hurt by the way he threw himself into distractions, just as he had no right to demand anything more from her. They were nothing but friends now—or less than that, perhaps. Just two people occupying the same space, their connection unraveling thread by thread.

But Charlie was unraveling in his own way, too.

He stopped coming to the meetings altogether for a while, and when he did show up, it was always late, his energy frayed and restless. The easy charm that had once defined him now felt like a mask, a shield he wielded to deflect attention from the cracks forming beneath the surface. The boys tried to pull him back in, tried to anchor him, but Charlie only laughed and brushed them off, his bravado growing more transparent with each passing day.

And Y/N… she stayed silent.

She didn’t ask where he went or who he was with. She didn’t press him to stay when he left early or try to fill the space he left behind. She told herself it wasn’t her place, that this was the natural progression of the distance she’d chosen. But late at night, when the meetings were over and the others had gone home, she’d lie awake replaying every moment in her mind—the sharpness in his voice, the emptiness in his laughter, the way his eyes lingered on her even when he pretended not to care.

It wasn’t until one particularly quiet night in the cave that the weight of it all came crashing down. The group was smaller than usual—just Neil, Knox, Pitts, and Y/N. The absence of Charlie’s energy was stark, the silence stretching long between recitations.

“Have any of you talked to him?” Neil asked finally, his voice low.

Pitts shook his head. “He’s… distracted, I guess.”

“More like self-destructive,” Knox muttered, earning a sharp glance from Neil.

“What are we supposed to do?” Pitts asked, his tone heavy with resignation. “He won’t listen to us.”

The conversation hung in the air, fragile and unresolved. Y/N didn’t speak, her gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight. She knew the boys were looking at her, waiting for her to say something, but what could she offer? She’d made her choice. She’d drawn her lines.

She told herself it wasn’t her responsibility to fix him.

And yet, as the meeting ended and the others began to pack up, Y/N found herself lingering, her notebook forgotten in her lap. She didn’t know what she was waiting for—an answer, a sign, or maybe just the courage to admit that no amount of distance could stop her from caring.

Because for all the defenses she’d built, for all the ways she’d tried to let him go, one truth remained: she wasn’t sure she could.

Charlie had always been the one who could keep his cool, who could laugh off anything and never let the weight of the world get to him. But now, as the boys confronted him, his carefully constructed walls were crumbling. They found him in his room that day, pacing back and forth, looking more disheveled than any of them had ever seen him. His eyes were bloodshot, his usually perfect hair was messy, and there was a distinct emptiness to his movements.

“Charlie,” Neil started, his voice firm but gentle, “this isn’t you. You’ve been avoiding us. Avoiding everything.”

“I’m fine,” Charlie muttered, brushing a hand through his hair in frustration, as if trying to push the emotions down. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

But the boys weren’t buying it anymore. They had seen it for weeks—the cracks in his facade. It wasn’t just about missing meetings. It was the way he was drowning in distraction, pushing everyone away. And they all knew why.

“You’re not fine, man,” Pitts added, his voice hard with concern. “We’ve seen how you’ve been acting. You’re hurting. You’re pushing Y/N away, and you’re not talking about it.”

At that, Charlie’s expression darkened. “Don’t bring her into this,” he snapped, his fists tightening. But it was clear the mention of Y/N hit a nerve, and Charlie couldn’t mask the raw frustration that bubbled up inside of him. “I don’t get it, okay? I don’t get why I didn’t just make it official, why I danced around it for so long. I liked her. I always did...”

His voice faltered. He sank onto the edge of his bed, his hands in his lap, staring down at the floor as though trying to find some sense of direction. “I kept thinking she would stick around, that it would just work itself out somehow. And now she’s gone, and I’ve got no one to blame but myself.”

The boys exchanged uneasy glances, each of them uncomfortable with seeing their friend so broken, but it was clear that Charlie needed to hear this. He needed to hear what they were all thinking, needed to confront the reality of what he had done.

“You can’t just shut people out, Charlie,” Knox said, stepping forward with his usual calm voice but a hard edge to it. “You can’t keep running from your feelings. You had something real with her, and you messed it up. But you’re not beyond fixing things.”

Charlie didn’t respond right away. He just stared at the floor, the weight of it all pressing down on him. Finally, he mumbled, “I don’t even know if she’d want to fix it. I didn’t do anything, anything right. I just... I didn’t make it real. I let it slip away, and now she’s gone.”

He collapsed back onto the bed, his voice breaking as he admitted what he couldn’t say before. “I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if I deserve to.”

The boys stood around him, all of them unsure of what to say. But Neil finally spoke, his voice softer than before. “You don’t fix things by running away, Charlie. You show up. You make it right. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll meet you halfway. But you have to do the work.”

Charlie’s gaze softened slightly, but he couldn’t shake the heavy weight in his chest. He had lost her. It felt final. And the thought of walking into that silence, of confronting the mess he had made, terrified him. But the boys wouldn’t let him off the hook. Not this time.

A few days later, Charlie started showing up to meetings again, his presence there a little less chaotic, a little less desperate. He was still messy, still a little broken, but there was an attempt to pull himself together. He threw himself into the work, into the distractions. But each time he looked around, there was something missing. And it wasn’t just his usual spark; it was her.

Y/N wasn’t at the meetings anymore.

At first, Charlie assumed it was just an off day. But then the days turned into weeks. Others tried calling her, but the replies were few and far between. She didn’t show up at the hangouts, didn’t respond to calls. Slowly, the silence between them grew louder.

He didn’t understand it. He hadn’t expected her to come running back, but he had hoped—hoped—that she would at least reach out. That she would be there. But she wasn’t. She had distanced herself completely.

The boys had no answers either. She was simply gone.

But Charlie couldn’t just sit idly by, pretending like everything was fine. He missed her. He missed her laugh, the way she used to tease him, how everything seemed lighter when she was around. He hadn’t known what he had until it was too late.

Still no sign of her. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. Charlie felt it in the pit of his stomach, the gnawing emptiness that had begun to fill the space where her smile used to be. He had lost his chance.

Meanwhile, Y/N was going through her own quiet spiral. Cutting off contact with the boys had been easier than she expected. She and Charlie no longer shared the same circles, and the distance between them felt... necessary. The absence of Charlie in her life was heavy, but it was also a relief. She had needed space, needed time to reclaim herself after everything had fallen apart. The constant reminders of him, the brief, desperate calls she couldn’t bring herself to answer, were all too much.

She didn’t show up to meetings, didn’t respond to group invitations. The boys didn’t know what to think, but they knew Y/N had made up her mind.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything she had ever felt before. But it was the only way she could breathe again.

Y/N’s mind had been racing for weeks. Every moment of silence, every unanswered call, every time she passed by their usual hangouts, it was like a weight on her chest. She had let go of so many things to protect herself from the fallout. But deep down, she couldn’t stop questioning everything. Maybe I’m the childish one—the thought had haunted her.

She couldn’t focus anymore. Her grades were slipping, her friends at school barely knew her, and the loneliness kept seeping in like an endless tide. She had lost more than just Charlie—she’d lost the version of herself that had been full of hope, that had been able to laugh through the awkwardness. Everything had been wrapped in him, and now that he wasn’t there, she felt like she was floating in a sea of nothing.

She couldn’t help but replay everything. Their late-night talks, the stolen glances, the laughter... but the part that stung the most was that she hadn’t gotten the closure she needed. She had cut off all contact, telling herself that it was the only way to move forward, but it had come at a cost. The truth was, she had never stopped loving him.

But moving was the final step. It felt like the only way out. Another prep school, in a different state, far enough from everything to finally heal—or at least, to try to. She hoped that the distance would give her space to breathe, to find herself again without the constant reminder of a love she couldn’t have.

Packing up her things felt surreal. It was like she was closing the door on so much more than just a school—she was leaving behind the girl who had once laughed with Charlie, the girl who had dreamed of what they could have been. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to go back, to talk to him again. But she had to do it. She had to move on.

Still, as she looked at the empty room, the reality of what she was doing hit her. She couldn’t deny it—leaving him behind didn’t stop her from still caring. And maybe, just maybe, it didn’t stop him from thinking of her too.

But for now, she was going to face the next chapter alone, hoping that the distance would help her forget the pain and allow her to rebuild herself from the pieces left behind. She didn’t know how long it would take or if she’d ever fully heal, but the decision was made. She had to move on, even if it meant leaving everything behind.

The moving van was parked outside the gates of the all-girls prep school, a stark reminder that Y/N was leaving. It had been a quiet afternoon, most students still milling about after classes. The air was heavy with the fading warmth of the day, and the bustle of Welton kids heading out was like a dull hum in the background. But there, on the far side of the field, Charlie stood frozen, his eyes locked on the scene unfolding before him.

Y/N’s parents were in the process of packing the last of her things into the van, a finality to the motion that seemed to pierce through the haze of everything else. Charlie’s chest tightened at the sight, his mind spiraling as his fingers ran through his already messy hair. His breath came out in short bursts, his heartbeat racing in anticipation.

What the hell am I doing?

He had been circling the field for what felt like hours, rehearsing his lines in his head. He had a plan, didn’t he? A speech. Something that would fix this mess he had made. He was supposed to be calm, collected. He was supposed to tell her everything—the truth about how he felt, how sorry he was, how much he wanted to make it right. But the more he practiced, the more the words seemed to slip through his fingers like smoke.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I should have told you how I felt rather than protecting my ego. I should have told you from the start that I was afraid of losing you... that I never meant to hurt you.”

It sounded so simple in his mind, but when it came to saying it out loud, it all felt so... impossible.

His eyes darted back to the van. It wasn’t just any van. It was the symbol of everything he was about to lose. Y/N was leaving, and he was just standing here, caught in his own head.

Why didn't I just tell her? Why did I wait so damn long?

His stomach churned with the realization that he hadn’t done enough. He had let her slip through his fingers. He’d taken too long to make up his mind, and now it felt like it was all slipping away, out of his reach, and he couldn't fix it in time.

His heart pounded as he moved closer to the edge of the field, his feet dragging like they were stuck in quicksand. He could see her parents now, their backs turned as they focused on the last few things to load up. Y/N wasn’t in sight, and that made everything worse. She wasn’t even there to hear him out, to let him try.

He reached the fence line and stopped, staring at the van. This is it. She’s leaving.

Charlie closed his eyes, shaking his head. He had to act. He had to move. There was no more time for hesitation.

And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approach—the unmistakable outline of Y/N. She was walking toward the van, her movements slow and deliberate. Every step she took made his chest tighten. He opened his mouth, but the words stuck, choked by the knot in his throat.

I can’t lose her. I won’t.

With a sudden burst of clarity, he pushed forward, determined to speak his truth before it was too late. As he crossed the field, the world around him seemed to slow, the sounds of laughter from other students fading into the background. There was only Y/N now, and the desperate need to make things right.

Charlie’s feet moved faster now, the space between him and the van growing smaller with each hurried step. His mind raced, the words he’d rehearsed countless times rushing through his head, but none of them felt right. He wasn’t prepared for this moment. He’d spent so long hiding behind jokes, distractions, and that perfect mask of arrogance, but now it was just him—raw, vulnerable, and completely terrified of what he was about to admit.

As he reached her, Y/N was just turning away from her parents, adjusting the strap of her bag. The moment she saw him, her expression faltered—just for a second—before the familiar walls went up, that guarded look he had become all too familiar with. It was that same look she’d been wearing ever since he’d distanced himself, ever since he'd messed everything up.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he approached her, stepping into her personal space without thinking. She paused, and for a brief, stupid second, he thought she might walk away again. But instead, she just stood there, silent, watching him with those unreadable eyes.

He swallowed hard, heart hammering in his chest. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. And I’m so sorry for... all of it.”

Her eyes flickered, but she said nothing, and it pushed him to keep going, to explain what had been gnawing at him for so long.

“I’ve always loved you. I know that sounds insane,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head, “but it’s the truth. I’ve always known. Even when I was with someone else, or when I was being an asshole and pretending I didn’t care, it was always you. I was just... scared, okay? I was scared to change what we had, scared that if I admitted it, it would ruin everything. You... you were always there for me, and I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t want to mess it up.” He took a shaky breath, his gaze never leaving hers.

“I didn’t know how to deal with how I felt. So I pushed you away. And I got confused, and I lashed out.” His chest tightened, words getting harder to force out. “I was emotional. I didn't know how to handle it, how to handle you—what I wanted with you. I didn't know how to be the kind of person you deserve."

His hands, which had been shaking, curled into fists at his sides, but his eyes never left hers. "All I ever wanted was to be with you. But I kept screwing it up. And now, here you are, and I—" He stopped, frustrated. "I'm not good at this. But I need you to know, Y/N... I've loved you for so long. And I don't want you to go without knowing that."

His voice broke as the weight of it all hit him, all at once—the guilt, the pain of knowing he was losing her, and the overwhelming feeling of having waited too long.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his throat tight, his heart aching with every word. “I don’t know why I waited. But it’s always been you. And if I lose you now... I don’t know how to fix it. I’m so in love with you, and I’m so scared.”

Y/N’s face was unreadable. For a moment, she said nothing, her gaze flickering between him and the van. Charlie’s chest tightened as the silence stretched between them, and he could feel his heart pounding so loud he was certain she could hear it. She slowly turned away.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said, each word feeling like it took all of his courage to speak, but it was the truth. “I don’t expect you to just forget everything and come running back, but you need to hear this, okay?”

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag, but she didn’t say anything.

“I’m not perfect,” Charlie continued, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve never been perfect, and I was a damn fool to not see how much you meant to me. You were never just a ‘friend,’ and I know now that I’ve been holding onto something—stupid pride, fear of change, who knows—but it’s you. You’ve always been it for me. I was scared of what we could be, scared of losing you if I messed it up. But I messed it up anyway.”

Charlie’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as he took a step closer. “I’ve spent so much time telling myself I could move on, that I could just... distract myself with all this other nonsense. But no matter what I did, it was always you. Always.”

His voice softened, and now it was all that was left to say. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to be this person anymore—someone who hides from what he feels, someone who runs away from the one person who truly makes him feel like he belongs somewhere. Y/N, I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m asking you to let me prove to you that I’m ready to be with you. I want us. I want to try. I want you to know that this... us... this is real. It’s always been real.”

Y/N’s back was still turned, but Charlie could see the slight shift in her posture—the hesitation, the quiet battle inside her. And then, after a long pause, she slowly turned around, her eyes no longer as guarded, but still cautious. Her lips parted as if she were about to speak, but she didn’t.

Instead, she took a step closer, her gaze searching his. "Charlie, you hurt me," she said, her voice quieter now, not angry, just sad. "You made me feel like I was nothing more than an option, someone to keep around until you figured things out. I couldn’t just sit there waiting for you to wake up." Her words were heavy, but they held a sense of vulnerability that Charlie had never heard before.

He nodded slowly, his chest tightening at the honesty in her voice. "I know, and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But you don’t have to wait for me anymore. I’ve been waiting for you, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for us, for the right time, and I was wrong. I know I can’t change the past, but I want to be with you. I want to make it right. Please, let me try. Let us try."

Her eyes softened, just a little, but she took another step back, as if unsure. "I don’t know, Charlie. I can’t just go back to how things were. I can’t pretend it didn’t hurt."

"I don’t want to go back to what we were either," Charlie said quickly, his voice firm. "I want something real with you. Not games. Not confusion. I’m not asking for everything at once. I’m asking for a chance—just a chance to show you that I’m not the same person I was before." He paused, stepping forward. "I know we’re both scared. Hell, I’ve been terrified the whole time, but I’m not running anymore. I want to be with you. That’s all I know for sure."

She was silent for a moment, studying him, the conflict clear on her face. Charlie’s heart raced in his chest, the waiting unbearable.

And then, finally, she took a deep breath and smiled, just a little. Not the carefree, sarcastic smile he remembered from before, but something softer, more tentative. “You’ve got one chance, Charlie,” she said, her voice steady but warm. “One. Don’t make me regret it.”

Charlie felt something light and pure spread through him, like the weight of the world had finally lifted. He smiled, his heart leaping. “I won’t. I swear.”

And with that, she stepped closer, her hand brushing his in the briefest touch. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was enough. Enough to tell him that maybe—just maybe—they could make it through this together.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she whispered.

“I know,” Charlie said, his voice quiet, but full of the promise of everything he was willing to give to make it right.

Charlie couldn’t believe this moment was actually happening. All the fear, the confusion, the mistakes—all of it had led him here, standing in front of her, heart racing as he waited for her to make her decision. She wasn’t just someone he cared about anymore—she was everything. And now, after all the time apart, he couldn’t let this chance slip away.

Y/N’s eyes softened, her lips parting as if she was about to say something, but for once, Charlie didn’t need to hear the words. He could feel everything she was trying to say in the way she looked at him. The hesitation in her eyes was still there, but there was something else now—something warmer, something that told him she was willing to take that first step toward them again.

"Charlie..." she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, and he could see her vulnerability mirrored in his own.

He took another step toward her, his pulse hammering in his ears, but he wasn’t afraid anymore. Not of her, not of what might happen. He just knew he couldn’t walk away again. Not without knowing if they could truly have what they’d both wanted for so long.

For a moment, everything was still. Her gaze flickered down to his lips, and that was all it took. With a breath that seemed to catch in her chest, she closed the distance between them, her hand reaching up to rest lightly on his chest. She leaned in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Charlie closed his eyes, letting everything around them fade away.

When their lips finally met, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything he’d been holding back—the months of silence, the longing, the regret—and in that single touch, it all came crashing down. Her lips were soft and warm, and Charlie felt like he was breathing again, as if the weight of everything that had gone wrong could somehow be erased in this one moment.

She kissed him back with the same intensity, her hands moving to rest against his neck as they held each other, both of them finally understanding what they’d been too afraid to admit before: they were meant to be together.

As they pulled away just slightly, their foreheads resting against one another, Charlie couldn’t help but smile. "I swear to you, Y/N, I’m never letting you go again."

Y/N chuckled softly, her voice still full of warmth. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere either."

And in that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the fading afternoon light, everything felt right. The past didn’t matter anymore. They had found their way back to each other, and this time, Charlie knew he wasn’t going to let fear or doubt take it all away.

They were finally together, and that was all that mattered.

[privatehousesanatomy]

HOUSE MD 2024 ONE SHOT BASED ON THIS SCREENSHOT - in collaboration with @zethd

"hey wilson, i need to borrow some money," house announced as he swung the door open to his best friend's office. the brunette oncologist rolled his eyes and let out a groan, though he was more than used to the request of money.

"what do you need it for?"

"does it matter?"

"yes," wilson huffed. "i'm not funding any of your stupid schemes anymore."

"i'm getting a service animal. i figure it's about time i finally accept that in my old age, my leg can't keep up with me anymore," house replied, the sarcasm dripping in his tone. wilson was slightly surprised, and he took a minute to consider.

"how much money do you need?"

"about $10k," house answered. wilson blinked, almost as if he couldn't believe he'd heard that correctly.

"why so much?"

"i'm high maintenence," house shrugged. "the dog needs to be able to keep up. dogs aren't cheap and the training isn't cheap either."

"don't those dogs come trained?"

"well, yeah, but i still have to compensate the trainers for working with the dog," house scoffed, as if it was obvious. wilson sighed, pulling out his cheque-book and opening it, but he paused for a moment.

"you swear this is going towards a service animal?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. house rolled his eyes, nodding his head.

"when have i ever lied to you?"

ONE WEEK LATER

"house, what the hell is that?" wilson groaned, watching as house limped into his office with a robotic dog trailing behind him.

"this is rover," house replied, pointing at the dog.

"rover? and where exactly did rover come from?"

"he's my new service animal," house scoffed. "god wilson, keep up."

"you got a robotic dog as a service animal? that's why you needed $10k?" wilson groaned, leaning his head in his hands and shaking it. he should have known better than to trust house.

"what else would i have gotten?"

"a real dog."

"yeah, like i want something that sheds all over the place. the hookers leave enough of their hair behind for me to find later," house said.

"house, this isn't funny. how is a robotic dog supposed to help you?"

"he's a robot, moron. he's programmed to be smarter than humans. besides, he knows some cool tricks."

"tricks? like what?" wilson raised an eyebrow. what the hell kind of tricks could a robotic dog do?

"we have to go outside. i don't think cuddy will be too happy if rover did his tricks inside. she's such a buzzkill," house rolled his eyes. wilson sighed, knowing he shouldn't be putting this much trust into house, but he followed him outside regardless. they made it outside to the parking lot, coincidentally right near cuddy's car. well, wilson thought it was coincidentally, anyway.

"i have a bad feeling about this," wilson admitted, seeing the look on house's face.

"oh shut up and watch. it'll be cool. come on rover, do your thing," house instructed, pushing a little button on a remote control he'd pulled from his jacket pocket, and within seconds, rover was shooting a flame out of a piece of metal attached to his back. wilson stepped back immediately, though cuddy's poor car took the brunt of it.

"house!" wilson gasped, and house simply made a face.

"whoops. he wasn't supposed to do that...i think i pushed the wrong button."

"what the hell was he supposed to do then?"

"oh, he was supposed to shoot flames but not like that. i didn't even know he could do that. cool."

"no, not cool! you just torched cuddy's car!"

"honestly, i was doing her a favour," house shrugged. but speak of the devil, because out came cuddy when she realized that it had been her car that had been torched.

"what the hell did you do to my car?!" she exclaimed as she stormed over.

"rover had an accident," house replied, pointing at the robotic dog at his feet.

"rover? this is what you meant by a service animal?" she huffed, realizing that she too had been fooled into thinking that he had pure intentions when he came to her to put in the paperwork for a service animal.

"isn't he cute?" house asked, obviously trying to distract from the car that was currently in flames in front of them.

"you're really going to play dumb right now?"

"like i told wilson, i was doing you a favour. no wonder you can't get laid, driving that thing around," house scoffed.

"that's it. rover is gone," cuddy said.

"you're really going to separate a boy and his dog?" house pretended to pout, looking down at his "pet".

"oh, i'm going to do more than separate a boy and his dog. i'm going to kill the boy and his dog," she said, and even house took a step back.

"uh oh. i think she's mad."

"you think?" wilson scoffed. it was obvious he was mad too, and house could tell.

"oh come, not you too," he groaned.

"i funded this! you told me you were getting a dog, not a flame-throwing robot!"

"this was cooler, and a lot less maintenance than an actual dog."

"he destroyed my car!" cuddy argued.

"look on the brightside - now you can upgrade."

"and you can pay for it."

"what? how? i had to borrow the money for rover from wilson. you think i can afford to get you a new car?" house scoffed.

"you're going return rover and get a refund, and you're going to give me that money so i can get a new car."

"you can't make me give up rover," house protested.

"i have a baseball bat in my office. you can watch me smash rover to bits if you'd prefer," cuddy shrugged, and house cringed.

"fine. i'll return rover. just know how heartbroken he is though."

"i'm sure he'll be just fine."

[desire-mona]

ive been on dead poets and house tumblr for like 3 days and i have a special interest in internet/ fandom spaces. here is a venn diagram comparing and contrasting the two fandoms. i am taking notes on everyone's behaviour sorry

not familiar with the amount of whataboutisms™ on tumblr yet so i feel the need to acknowledge that YES im sure there are many outliers to all of these points. im generalising in the most lighthearted way possible, i apologise if that comes across as me accusing u of pissing on the poor /ref

[ash5monster01]

hey!! could you please write more neil perry smuts? they’re so rare and your writing is amazing

your wish is my command 🤍

It’s Just Practice

Pairing: older!Neil Perry x actress!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, language, oral f & m receiving, p in v, fluff, MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s Neil’s first sex scene on a new acting job and not only is he terrified but he’s afraid he’ll be so uncomfortable it will affect his acting. You provide a solution.

word count: 4.2k

Masterlist

You don’t miss the way Neil wipes sweaty palms on the front of his jeans, eyes darting to the filming schedule for the week, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Ever since you both had started filming this movie he hadn’t been nervous, in fact he was a natural, which you appreciated considering you had been doing this your whole life. That’s why his behavior has caught you off guard, the script pages fanning against your fingers as you flip through them in search of the lines you’d have to brush up on this week.

“What’s up with you?” your voice comes out sharp, startling him as he jumps to turn and spot you in your director chair, legs crossed, and script open on your lap.

“Nothing, I’m fine” he says unconvincingly and it almost makes you snort considering an actor should be much better at lying than he is.

“No you’re not, take a seat Bambi” you tease, watching the doe eyed boy nervously approach his own director chair beside you and take a seat. You know he hates when you call him that but someone so innocent looking like him exploring the world of acting on unsteady legs reminded you of the sweet deer.

“I swear I’m fine” he says, stretching his fingers over his thighs, looking anywhere but you as he clearly battles with whatever inner thoughts currently had him this on edge.

“Neil, I’ve been doing this a long time. So let’s skip whatever this is and get to the part where you confide in your experienced friend” his cheeks burn red, taking your words in a context you don’t quite understand yet, because he was currently freaking out about the scene scheduled for tomorrow.

“It’s about tomorrow” he nearly whispers, causing you to lean closer to make sure you don’t miss what he says.

“What about it?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed together as you close the script and plop it on the ground beside your chair. A nervous hand meets the back of his neck, massaging the flesh there as he attempts to find his words.

“I-I’ve never filmed a sex scene before” he whispers again and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your lips, shocked that of all things you two had already filmed together this was the one that shook him the most. “Please, it’s not funny”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just-, usually the men I act with look forward to those scenes the most” you offer, trying to calm your laughter down. Neil shakes his head so you reach to place a hand on his arm, offering as much comfort as you can.

“I’ve never done one before and if I’m being honest the guy who went to an all boys high school wasn’t actively getting laid in college” he tells you and this is something new about him that you hadn’t known, it could explain why he was still so nervous and sweet around women unlike some people in this industry.

“You have… right?” you find yourself asking and Neil wears a panicked expression.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been with a woman. Just not on camera, not like this” he gestures to the script, knowing the scene the two of you were to perform tomorrow was a high stakes passionate moment between lovers.

“Take a breath Perry, it’s easier than you’d think” you assure him, squeezing his arm once more before letting go.

“How could it be easier?” he asks, exasperated and little shaken up about this whole thing. He’s nearly positive that if he had known there was a sex scene he may have never taken the job.

“It’s easier because not only are we professionals but we’re friends. You can’t look at it like an intimate moment being watched by an audience, you have to be comfortable and trust me” you tell him, reaching for your water bottle. Neil lets the words sink in as you take a sip, eyeing how some of the water dribbles along your lip and your tongue darts out to catch it.

“Friends don’t kiss each other” he says with the shake of his head and you snort, twisting the cap back on your water bottle.

“In this business they do, it’s nothing, it’s friendly!” you assure and Neil can’t help but chuckle, finding a semblance of amusement in this minor crisis of his.

“Well if you don’t remember, this is only like my third acting job that isn’t theater” Neil says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and rub his hands together. You watch as his biceps flex under that thin material of his shirt and gulp lightly.

“Alright, here’s the deal. After filming today, come to my place, I’ll cook you dinner and we can…. practice the scene. Make sure you’re comfortable” you suggest, wringing your hands together and hoping the boy doesn’t take it in some weird way. You had been doing suggestive scenes a long time, long before it was probably even appropriate, so this should be nothing. How hard could it be to make Neil comfortable with you?

“Okay, that sounds good. Thank you” he says and you crack a smile even though you were suddenly the one who was nervous. There was nothing normal about cooking dinner for a man and practicing fake sex but then again nothing about this job had been normal so far. So you nod your head and prepare for the worst.

“Yeah, anytime”

It’s taking everything in you to tear your eyes away from them nearly empty casserole dish, the very one you and Neil had just picked at in order to delay the next part of this hangout. You felt silly even making it considering it was the only thing you ever learned how to cook and you had to double the recipe to feed more than one person. It was even more embarrassing digging through your kitchen for more than a single serve dish to cook it in.

“The food was great” Neil offers and it springs you into action, shoving the chair away from the table as you collect the dishes and start towards the sink.

“Thanks, I’m not much of a cook” you say, smiling as he meets you at the sink with his own used plate. He smiles back as you take it from his hands, setting it in along with the other stack.

“I brought my script, you know, just incase. Even though there isn’t a lot of dialogue” he says and you giggle, realizing your were more comfortable with him than you had previously thought.

“Great, why don’t we go to my room” you sound silly saying it, like a teenage girl unsure of how to get a boy in her bedroom but Neil doesn’t even flinch as he nods at you and waits to follow in your direction.

You use the opportunity to snag your empty wine glasses and the rest of the bottle from dinner to bring with you, flashing him a quick smile over your shoulder as he follows you up the stairs and to your room. He’s ever the gentleman as you set the glasses on your dresser, pouring fresh glasses as he eyes the minimal belongings around the room.

“Cozy” is all he says and you smile, handing him a glass while sipping from your own.

“Temporary, I travel too much for work to ever get comfortable in one place” the notion surprises Neil, considering he stayed in the same place for nearly his entire life. Even through all of college and into his adult years he still hadn’t even spent as much time out of Welton as he did in it.

“Sounds lonely” he suggests as he moved to sit on the end of your bed and you tip back the rest of the wine before joining him.

“Maybe, but I’m used to it” you tell him, taking the script from his hands and opening to the pages. If you were to survive this, you’d have to be as professional as you could.

“Alright coach, how do we do this?” he asks, lacing his fingers and stretching his arms out in front of him. You chuckle, shaking your head lightly at the boy who was so nervous about this earlier.

“Well the beauty of a sex scene is we have creative freedom. You only have a few marks you have to hit, other than that there isn’t much direction to follow” you explain, holding out the script to show how the script indicates where they kiss, where their hands should be, certain sounds, in only various places.

“Okay so make it your own but also hit the marks” he nods, glancing at the script as he lets the new information sink in.

“I find it best to count and also pace it as if it was real. So from the moment we first kiss, count to five and then put your hand on my cheek” you explain, pointing to the written direction on the page and Neil nods.

“Okay, so it starts with us at the end of the bed and I lean in for a kiss” Neil says, holding the adorable glasses he wore up to his eyes. You smile as he drops them back down into his front shirt pocket again.

“If it makes you more comfortable we can practice, I promise I don’t bite and I haven’t been told I’m a bad kisser” you shrug and he bellows a laugh, moving the script from out of between you both. He was nervous earlier but he also liked you, thought you were funny, and if you were this willing to work with him there was really nothing he should be afraid of.

“Tell me if I do something wrong” he whispers, ducking in close and tracing the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours. You suck in a sharp breath, unprepared for his causality about the whole thing.

Slowly you tip your head up, eager to chase his lips with your own and finally, just as in the script he meets you, unpracticed lips fumbling together as he kisses you like it’s real. You kiss back slowly, sighing softly as his hand meets your cheek and slowly slides into your hair, fingers lacing through the locks and grabbing a fistful to steady your mouth against his own. If Neil was truly unexperienced it would not be this good.

Following the next part of the script he slowly eases you onto the mattress, chest pushing against your own until your head meets the soft cushion of your bed. For once you’re thankful your character doesn’t have to do much of the work, you just let out soft sounds of delight as his lips trail down your neck and meet the front of your chest. You’re not even sure if you’re acting anymore when you roll your hips into his own.

“We can stop here” he mutters against your skin but you feverishly shake your head, hands meeting his face and keeping him where he was.

“No, it’s okay. We’re gonna see a lot of each other tomorrow, better to just get it out of the way” you urge and he nods, continuing to kiss your neck as he starts shoving your dress up the sides of your hips just like it is in the script.

“Tell me if you get uncomfortable” he mutters, lips kissing along the fabric on your chest and stomach, inching his way down.

This would be the scene where he removed your panties, the camera would be just on your face as you moaned out words of pleasure, as if he was actually giving you head. Ever the actor though, Neil has found himself with his arms hooked under your legs and head awfully close to your underwear where he can undoubtedly see the wet patch beginning to form there. You both freeze, realizing fairly quickly this wasn’t a scene surrounded by a hundred workers, that you were alone and he had made you wet.

“I-I’ve never” Neil suddenly says and your cheeks tint pink, hands already reaching to shove your dress back down and over your hips. “Could I?”

“What?” you can’t help the shocked voice that leaves you as the brunette boy gives you a sheepish look.

“I know we don’t actually have to but I really am comfortable with you and if you’d let me?” he suddenly feels like an idiot, coming over here for help and then nearly begging to eat you out. You can practically see the thoughts racing in his head and you slowly pull your skirt back up.

“Go ahead” you urge and despite the initial shock Neil doesn’t let it falter him as he slips his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly begins to slide them down your legs. If you had known the night would turn out like this you probably would’ve never invited him over but it was already too late, you wanted him hopefully as much as he wanted you.

“Just, make sure I do it right” he says and before you can respond with some sort of agreement his tongue darts out and glides through your folds, a squeak escaping the back of your throat as your head drops back against the mattress.

Neil realizes the reaction you made is a good one so he dives right in, relishing in the taste of you as he licks and sucks, exploring all the new parts of a female body he’d never understood before. When his nose nudges against your clit a loud moan break free from your lips, making Neil’s eyes widen as he dares to do it again in order to confirm that was the spot to get such a reaction out of you. When he realizes it was no mistake he moves to suck hard on that one spot and your eyes nearly roll back in your head.

“Shit Neil, you really sure you haven’t done this?” you pant, whimpering as he slides a finger into you. Neil hums in response, the vibration of it tingling up through your whole body. He doesn’t pull away to give a verbal answer and instead speeds up his movements that you begin to feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

It’s when he slips a second finger into you and he moans against your clit do you feel your orgasm near the edge. On instinct your hand flies down to tangle into his hair, thighs slowly tightening around him as his movements never cease. Your other hand is wound so tightly into your sheets you miss the sly look he gives when he realizes you’re about to finish. With one last pump of his fingers and harsh suck to your clit you’re cumming swiftly, tightening around his hand as he continues to coax the orgasm out of you. The whines that leave your mouth are delectable and when your body finally relaxes against the mattress he pulls away, a happy smile on his face as his heart thrums in his chest.

“How was that for practice?” he says, breaking the silence, and you laugh quickly. At least he was able to be confident in this situation.

“I’d say we were a little too professional” you respond, breath coming out in heavy pants and Neil stands from the ground at the end of the bed, smiling down at you. Yet it’s impossible to miss how hard he is in his jeans, the length of him pressed uncomfortably against his zipper, and you gulp. Neil notices your eye line immediately, suddenly nervous all over again.

“You know the next part of the script is me helping you out?” you say in the form of the question even though you both know it’s not. Neil chuckles even though nothing is entirely funny about how your suggestion has suddenly made him harder and the look in your eyes proves you’re not going to let him off that easy.

“You don’t have to, I’ve kinda already stepped over the line” he shyly says, that nervous hand once again returning to the back of his neck. It doesn’t matter though because you’ve already sat up and started tugging at the zipper of his pants, fingers fumbling the button open.

“Shut up for once Perry and let’s finish what we started. Practice or not” and with one fowl sweep your tugging his pants and boxers down in one go. You had never considered the size of him before today but you’re not disappointed, in fact you’re shocked to see he had been hiding all that all this time.

Neil’s the one whining now, member standing tall and proud, grazing his lower abdomen and leaking with precum. You smile at him, hands pushing the T-shirt up and over his head before standing and pushing him down in the place you just were. He shifts, clearly in need of some relief, but you don’t touch him just yet. Instead you reach for the bottom of your dress, slowly tugging it up and over your own head just to reveal you had forgone a bra.

“Oh God” Neil says at the sight and you just grin, hands falling to his thighs as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling where he just was. Neil can barely watch as you place a soft kiss on his thigh, hand rubbing up to his pelvis and dangerously close to where he was desperate for your touch.

“You know Perry, of all things I never expected you to be so desperate” you tease and he goes to give a witty comeback, he really wants to, but you have your hand wrapped around the base of his cock and any words in his mouth are swallowed in an instant. You wait a beat before pumping your hand softly, when you earn a soft moan you finally dart your tongue out and slowly lick the tip.

Neil’s squeezes his eyes shut so tightly there is almost tears coming out of them. You smile at the sight before taking him into your mouth fully. The gasp he lets out is music to your ears and you take as much of him as you can. What you can’t reach you use your hand and just like that Neil Perry is a mess of a man in your bed, when not so long ago this was supposed to be an innocent and professional practice. When you speed up your movements he’s quick to snap his eyes open, sitting up in an attempt to push you off.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last if you keep going like this and personally I’d like to be inside you when I do finish” the pet name and the sentiment has your ears burning red but you release him with a pop anyway, arm wiping at your chin as you smile up at him.

“How does it go in the script? Me on top?” Neil blushes and you lift from your knees, crawling above him on the bed. His eyes dart from your own, to your breasts, to where the two of you will meet, and you can nearly see the gears turning in his head.

“God I’m in trouble” is all he says when you grind down onto his length, covering him in your slick.

“Why’s that?” you ask, an innocent look on your face as you settle above him and grind against his length again, not quite lining him up to slip inside yet.

“There’s no way I’m not going to get a hard on, on set tomorrow. Especially after I already know what it’s like to be inside you” he pants, hands gripping your hips as you move slowly against him, nearly killing him.

“You haven’t been inside me yet, in fact we could just stop right now and save you the embarrassment” you start to say lifting up, but his hands grip tighter, and bring you back down. You’re sure he might leave finger marks but at this point you don’t really care.

“Baby, I am painfully hard and this either ends with me inside you or me awkwardly going to the bathroom to resolve this little issue, and I’d much prefer the first one” the sentence makes you giggle loudly and Neil finally breaks a smile, grinding his hips up into your own and you’re quickly reminded of the sheer length of him nestled deliciously between you.

“I prefer it too” is all you say before you grab his member without warning and line it up with your entrance. Neil squeezes your hips tightly and watches with wide eyes as you slide down his length. Slowly, slowly, until you’re flush against him and your head is tipping back at the sensation.

It’s better than he could’ve ever imagined and without you looking he gains the courage to reach and grope your tits, shamelessly feeling them up. The action makes you grind against him and he stiffens, trying to make sure he lasts as long as he could. He didn’t want this to end. Yet you seemed to have enjoyed the feeling as well and without warning you’re grinding quickly against him, using his hold on your chest for balance. When the feeling doesn’t become enough you place your hands on his own chest and lift off him. His hands instantly leave your breasts and return to your hips where he guides you back down on him.

You stay like this for a while, filthy moans leaving both of your lips as you bounce on his length, your eyes rolling back every time he hits that spot inside you. When Neil is sure he can’t take it anymore he’s flipping you onto the bed, hovering above you and giving no warning as he starts drilling into you. The moan you let out is pornographic and as he continues to drive into you he leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. When he feels you tightening against him he smiles and meets his lips with your own.

“Come on baby, finish one more time for me” he encourages before pulling back and thrusting into you faster. When his fingers meet your clit and begin to rub, you feel the coil tighten in your stomach, ready for release.

“Shit Neil” you gasp, hands gripping his arms and holding on tightly. Neil smiles and never slows his pace.

“Come on baby, so fucking pretty like this” he says breathily, moaning softly in your face and it’s enough for the coil to snap. You tighten down around his length, legs trembling as they try to close together and he never ceases his movements as you cum hot and fast.

“I’m not gonna last much longer” he warns and you wrap your legs around him, indicating to finish in you, and it causes his hips to stutter. When your lips meet his own he’s finishing, warm ropes filling your inside, and he pushes in deeply once more as he settles against you.

You both lay there for a moment, letting the weight of what just happened settle in. You had never let a coworker step over that line before but it wasn’t regret you were feeling. In fact your stomach was warm with desire that hadn’t quite burned out yet. You had found Neil charming and kind from the start but you had not realized the feelings that bubbled there all along. Brewing into something much bigger and deeper than you ever realized. Something that made you go through with what you just did.

“So that just happened” Neil breaks the silence and you giggle loudly, hand falling against the back of his head and keeping him against you. The warmth spreading from your stomach and all the way up your chest.

“I told you there was no reason to be nervous” you say, fingers grazing through his hair and he chuckles, arms wrapping tighter around your bare waist.

“That may be true but now I’m more nervous everyone on set will see how into you I really am” Neil admits, lips brushing against your chest softly and ending with a soft kiss.

“Good acting is all, Oscar worthy” you say and he laughs again, head lifting to look in your eyes. They’re so full of adoration your heart stutters in your chest and you realize just how gone for him you really are.

“Hopefully that wasn’t all it was, acting” Neil says softly and you shake your head, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

“No, that was real” you admit and he smiles before leaning and pressing a firm kiss against your lips. One that conveyed he had no interest to stop kissing you after this moment. Maybe you were done for, in over your head, but at least you had this moment. A feeling, the idea of hope, that you could hold onto forever.

“It was real for me too”

[jameswilsonsupremacy]

just got out of my writing class final exam, and the way that this was my prompt for my final:

What is an original experience (not something from an existing episode) from a character in your favorite TV show?

Girl I just wrote House MD fan fiction for three hours for my fucking exam SGDKDJ

[jakegyllenbaalz]

dead poets society, dir peter weir (1989)

[dearestro]

Heyyy love your work could I request maybe a james wilson x reader where they're trying to have children but she miscarries and like maybe their keeping it a secret but of course house finds out and is all supportive and them maybe like a happy ending where they do have a child

Tears and Fears

Warnings: Miscarriages, childbirth, innuendos, crude language, and angst. I apologize if I forgot anything!

Disclaimer: I know nothing about healthcare, diseases, childbirth, miscarriages, etc. Anything I have written has been found on the internet, so I apologize if it is incorrect!

Summary: After receiving some upsetting news, the reader and James are faced with a heartbreaking situation. But at least they have each other and just maybe...House?

Wilson's Pov

"Yeah...yeah. It's alright hun...I'll talk to Cuddy and see if I can get the rest of the day off...No, I'm coming to meet you...I-I love you..." I was still talking to my wife when House came in. "I'll see you soon. Bye." I hung up and dragged my hand down my face as I sighed in frustration, desperately trying not to break down. Not again.

"What's wrong? I haven't even started talking, and you already look like you want to kill yourself." House said as he walked over to my couch. 

"Nothing." I said a little too defensively. He quirked a brow at my seemingly unwarranted anger. "Look, I've got to talk to Cuddy so I can get someone to cover me, and I can take the rest of the day off. I'll see you tomorrow." I got up and started packing my things and headed for the door before turning around and looking at House. "Lock up for me." I said before leaving. After all, with all the pranks he's pulled on me throughout the years, there's no doubt in my mind that he already has a copy of my key.

I made my way to Cuddy's office. She was doing paperwork but looked up at me and smiled when I entered. 

"Dr. Wilson. To what do I owe the pleasure?" She said before a look of distaste came over her face. "Please tell me you are not here to try and convince me to follow through with one of House's harebrained schemes." I tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace.

"Actually, I need the rest of the day off." Her eyebrows furrowed. "It's a...family...emergency." I tried to cover up the fact I started to choke up at the word 'family' by coughing and averting my eyes. She smiled sympathetically. 

"Of course. I'll get someone to cover for you." She nodded as I started to the door. "And Wilson. I'm really sorry." I nodded and hurried to the car.

After a long and grim car ride, I finally arrived at the hospital. 

"I'm looking for my wife? Mrs. y/n Wilson." The receptionist quickly directed me to her room. It took everything in me not to run when I saw the doors to her room. Upon getting closer, I picked up my pace and rushed into the room. She jumped at the sudden movement before looking at me. Tears streamed down her face, but once I met her eyes, we both fully broke down. I quickly knelt beside her and took her in my arms. "I'm so sorry, baby." I shook my head as she pushed hers into the crook of my neck.

"I was so close!" She cried as my heart wrenched at her words. 

"I know...I know sweetheart." I whispered as I stroked her hair.

"One more week! One...more...week...and the risk would've lowered to 2-4%." She shook her head, her face still buried in my chest. "It's not fair! I thought I did everything right..."

"It's not...it's not. You did do everything right it's not your fault. It's-it's just...bad luck." I could feel her tears seep into my shirt as my own fell into her hair.

Eventually, the hospital discharged her, not before offering their condolences. I asked her if she wanted me to pick her something up on the way home, but she just shook her head and continued to stare out the window. Clearly, we both had lost our appetite for today.

Once we got home, we sat for a second before I went over to her side of the car. We made our way into the apartment, and I sat her down on the couch. I sat down next to her, and she leaned on my shoulder as I held her.

"We-we can always try again." I rubbed her arm and kissed her hair, but she shook her head.

"What's the point?" She said she sounded defeated. "It's the second one in a year...maybe-maybe I wasn’t...meant to be a mother." Her voice wavered as she held back her tears. "Maybe it's for the best. I probably would've made a terrible mom anyway." She laughed bitterly. 

"No! No. You'd be the perfect mother! You're sweet, kind, caring, nurturing..." I tried to comfort her as we both cried. "We don't have to give up. I'm-I'm willing to try as many times as possible. All the time. I'll take off work, and we'll just-just make babies all week."

"Are you sure you could handle that?" She shook her head as she laughed.

"Well...maybe give me a few minutes between tries, but..." She laughed harder, her tears temporarily stopped. I smiled hearing her giggle even if it was at my expense.

"I really thought it'd work this time..." She smiled sadly as the brief happiness wore off. "After two miscarriages...the doctor said that your chances just keep getting worse and worse with each loss." 

"I know...but we can try all kinds of things. IVF, donors, adoption..." I tried to cheer her up, give her a little hope as I kissed her temple. 

"Yeah...I just...I really wanted to carry our baby. To feel them grow and kick and..." Tears started to stream down her face again. I sighed and rested my forehead against her hair.

"I'm sorry sweetheart."

The next day, I begrudgingly went to work. Y/n insisted that she'd be ok. I tried to stay in my office for the majority of the day but was called in and out for consultations.

I finally had a free moment in my office and went to call her when House barged in.

"Good, you're here. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were avoiding me." I rolled my eyes and tried to focus on dialing our home phone. It finally started to dial, but just as it began to ring, House hung up the receiver with his cane.

"House!" I shouted a little too angrily.

"Wilson!" He mocked. I sighed. "What is up with you? Trouble with the Mrs?" I ignored him in favor of looking over discarded paperwork. "So it is...what fourth ex Mrs. Wilson? That's too bad. This one wasn't totally awful." He continued to ramble on. "Did you cheat on her? She cheat on you? Stop 'meeting your manly needs'?"

"Stop!" I shouted, slamming down the files, finally having enough of his taunting. "For once in your life, can you just shut up? I'm tired and I'm frustrated! And don't even ask if I mean frustrated as in sexually frustrated!" He only stared as I broke down. I rested my head on the palms of my hands as I tried to calm down. By the time I looked back up, he was gone. "Jerk." I shook my head as I redialed my wife's cell.

House's Pov

At the sight of Wilson's pathetic breakdown, I left. Something's obviously wrong. However, he'd never admit it...at least not without being all emotional and crap. I rolled my eyes just thinking about it. 

I finally made it to Cuddy's office. I walked in on what looked like a meeting with the head of trauma. 

"Cuddy!" She rolled her eyes while apologizing to the doctor before she turned to me.

"House, I'm a little busy." 

"I'll take care of this." I walked in front of the doctor. "Thanks for your sub-par service. You're fired. Bye." I turned back to Cuddy. "See? You're not busy." She scoffed before dismissing him, apparently deciding she didn't want to fight.

"Ok then, House." She folded her hands in front of her before giving me an over exaggerated and forced smile. "How can I help you?"

"Glad you're so willing." She rolled her eyes as I ignored her blatant sarcasm. "Something's wrong with Wilson." Her face dropped for a second before she quickly fixed her facade.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe you should ask him." She said as she quickly busied herself with files.

"Liar!" I whacked my cane on her desk, making her jump. "Tell me."

"It's not my business to tell, and frankly, it's none of yours either." I scoffed before heading towards the door.

"I'm taking the rest of the day off!" I said and quickly walked away before she could stop me.

Your Pov 

I had been curled up on the couch the entire day, eating comfort food and watching reruns. I had been intermittently crying throughout the day and just got off the phone with James. Even at work, he insisted on checking in on me. I got up to throw out the empty carton of ice cream when the doorbell rang.

"Coming!" I discarded the trash and quickly tried to freshen myself up by raking my fingers through my hair and swiping at the tear stains. I opened the door to be faced with the one and only..."House?" He pushed past me and let himself in. I closed the door behind him and followed. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital?" I asked as he sat down on the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table, and started scrolling through the tv channels. 

"How are you and Wilson?" I raised a brow at the question. House was never one for pleasantries. 

"Fine..." I said still suspicious of his motives.

"How's the sex?" I blushed a little at his bold question.

"Good..." He turned to me with his brows raised.

"Just good?" I rolled my eyes, becoming increasingly agitated. 

"I meant great, no spectacular!" I said sarcastically. I sighed. "What do you want House? I'm tired, and I'm frustrated." 

"Aha!" I looked at him confused. "Wilson said the exact same thing today." Oh. I sat down beside him and grabbed the bag of chips I had left on the table.

"Did...did he tell you?" I asked as I sucked on a chip, my eyes staying focused on the tv.

"Yes." I swallowed the salty snack before sighing sadly.

"I...I don't know what to do. We want a baby so bad, but...I'm not sure I can handle a third miscarriage." He sighed before putting his hand on my knee. I looked up at him, a strange, sorrowful, almost regretful look on his face.

"Well...third time's the charm." I smiled weakly at the odd but caring sentiment.

"Yeah. Third time's the charm."

It was late in the evening by the time James got home. House had left hours ago, of course not before eating us out of house and home and making me binge his favorite soap with him.

"Hey babe." He leaned down and pecked me on the lips. 

"Hi..." I said softly. He came back from putting his things away.

"Are-are you ok?" He sat next to me and held my hands. His eyes were filled with worry. 

"House stopped by." I look of shock and worry crossed his face.

"What...what did he want?" 

"He said you told him." I shook my head and laughed a little. "Told me 'third time's the charm'." I felt tears pool in my eyes.

"I'll be right back..." He kissed my hairline before suddenly standing up and storming out of the house.

Wilson's Pov 

I hated to leave her, but I was blinded by rage. House had once again meddled with our lives, and this time, I would not stand for it. 

I finally reached House's apartment building. I stormed in before finding his door and pounding on it.

"House! I know you're in there!" I continued to hit the door until he opened it.

"Hey buddy! Come in." He said cheerfully. "I assume the wife told you about my little visit."

"You had no right!" I jabbed my finger in his chest as he rolled his eyes and pulled me inside. I tried to protest, but he pushed me onto the couch with his cane.

"Sit." He then hobbled off and came back with a stack of papers. "After I left your apartment, I decided to do a little research." He slammed down the papers on the coffee table. "In these papers, you'll find the best foods, diets, sleeping and sitting positions, medications, etc. for keeping your pregnancy safe and preventing miscarriages. As well as the number of a competent OBG." I looked at him in shock.

"What?" 

"Oh! Also, here's a list of the best sex positions to use during pregnancy." He handed me a paper. "It's technically safe to do all kinds of sex as long as you don't have any diseases and your doctor doesn't tell you otherwise. Although if I were you, I'd just ask for hand and blow jobs so you don't have to do anything but still get to have that special happy ending." He shrugged as I still stared at him in shock. I quickly shook my head, knocking myself out of my trance.

"First off. I'm not doing that. Secondly, my sex life is none of your business, and thirdly...thank you...I guess?" I started to look through the papers. Some of the information we had already known but there were plenty of things we hadn't thought of. I reached the page of the OBG. "Wait. This is the top OBG in the city. And it says that an appointment is already scheduled." I looked up at him in disbelief. "We've been trying to get in with her for months. How did you-?" He cut me off.

"She owes me a favor." I furrowed my eyebrows as he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Just leave and go have hot sex with your wife." I rolled my eyes as he turned to walk towards his kitchen. "Oh, and try out position number eight on that list! Did that with a hooker once. She almost quit hooking after that, wanted to get hitched right then and there!" I sighed. He was incredibly selfish and strange but...he cared...in his own screwed up way.

I entered the apartment with the stack of papers. Everything was quiet. 

"Y/n?" I heard some shuffling before she came into view. I sighed and hugged her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left like that I was just-" She cut me off with a kiss.

"Mad?" I nodded. "When you left in such a hurry after I told you about House...well, I figured you must not have actually told him and that he had lied to me." Our foreheads pressed together. 

"Right...I'm still sorry." She stroked my cheek and smiled slightly.

"It's alright." She dragged me to the couch. "What are all those papers for?" 

"Right! House printed out all this information for us..." She took the pages and looked through them. 

"Well...these are certainly...specific." I looked over to see the paper she had was the one about the best sex positions for during pregnancy. I blushed a little as I saw the diagrams with explicit instructions. 

"That's-that was House's...idea. I figured we could just throw that page away." She laughed lightly as she continued to look through the stack.

"I don't know. They might be...fun." She continued to giggle until she suddenly stopped. "We have an appointment with Dr. Ryans?" She gasped in excitement. "How?" I smiled and shrugged as she looked towards me.

"Apparently, she owes House a favor." She quirked a brow. "I don't know why, I figured it's probably better I didn't ask." She laughed and nodded in silent agreement. 

"We should go to bed." I raised a brow and smirked.

"To bed or to bed?" She laughed and patted my cheek.

"The first one." I put on an exaggerated pout before getting up and following her.

Your Pov

It had been a few months since the second miscarriage. It was hard, but thankfully, I had James. Together, we slowly got through it.

Tonight, I sat in the bathroom. A familiar plastic stick sat on the counter. I waited with baited breath. My phone alarm went off, and I quickly grabbed the test. Positive! I screamed in excitement, and James quickly came running in.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" I showed him the pregnancy test. He grinned and picked me up and spun us around before grabbing my face and kissing me. "You're pregnant?" He asked the shock, still clear on his face. I nodded excitedly before bringing him in a deep kiss. When I pulled back for air, I saw the tears in his eyes, and I could feel my own start to fall.

"I'm gonna miss our other two babies." I said. I was elated to be pregnant again, but it was bitter sweet. I was still scared for the future. He nodded.

"I know. I know. But they're safe now." I cried as he stroked my cheek, our foreheads pressed together. "We'll figure this out...together." He said as if he had read my mind. I smiled. I couldn't be more grateful for these moments even if they were tinged with a little pain.

"There's no one I'd rather go through this with."