#and Greg…immediately changed into it

[greenvertumna]

Not to be a Nick x Greg truther but in s1 ep 4 Greg is wearing a hideous shirt that looks suspiciously like the hideous shirt Nick was putting on at the start of the episode

[hisbuni]

౨౿ rodrick who is such a loser, the first time you kissed he moaned into your mouth. his body leaning into yours, his hand sliding around your waist—the movement is so confident you think he’s getting cocky until you hear it, the light sound of satisfaction. you do nothing but smile into his lips before pulling away, “you’re cute.”

now, the loser loves making out with you sitting in his chair. your legs on either side of his hips as your shorts ride up your legs. to center himself like before, his warm hands slide from your hips to your sides, slightly making you shiver. your lips are wet with one another’s spit, both your heads spinning, noses hitting now and then as you breathe in each other's air.

“rodrick!”

as if nothing has changed, noises slip from his mouth while you taste each other, your hand scratching into the short hair on the back of his head, not making him any better. his hands slide further up until he’s grabbing a handful of your breast but before you can even think about getting the shirt off greg’s voice takes over the room.

“rodrick, mom sa- EW!” the two of you pull away immediately, you look over at greg with a shocked expression while rodrick simply stuffs his face into your chest with a groan. he mumbles something, but it doesn’t reach either of your ears. “i think i’m gonna hurl,” greg says, making exaggerated gagging noises as he begins to leave. “oh my god,” rodrick moans into your chest in aggravation. he lifts his head to shoo greg from the room further, “get out.”

you hear the soles of greg’s feet hit each step as he leaves. rodrick leans back into the chair and you finally get to take a good look at him; his hair messy, his lips almost as pink as his cheeks, the pinkness creeping up his neck a little, lips slightly agape. you can only grin, “you’re really cute.”

[itneverendshere]

pogue reader getting sick but she can’t call out, but rafes fr mad at you about it

changed it a bit just bc i want to show reader's progress regarding her hyper-independence, they're already dating and past the "i love you" phase, i felt like some progress had to be made by this point, especially bc this is after their big fight in this. hope you enjoy <3

don't want less, don't want more - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The floor beneath you feels like it's tilting, moving under your feet like a boat rocking on rough water. You blink a couple of times, hoping that’ll shake the haze taking over your vision, but it doesn’t do much. 

The bar lights over your head are too bright, and the music thumping from the speakers makes your head feel like it’s trapped in a vice. The clink of glass, every laugh, every order shouted at you feels like a hammer driving nails straight into your skull.

You swallow hard, trying not to gag. Your throat’s raw, and your chest feels tight, but you’re powering through it because you don’t have much of a choice. Not a choice at all.

"Whiskey sour, extra sour!" some country club douchebag yells from the other side of the bar.

His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. You force a smile and nod, reaching for the bottle, but your hands are shaky. You catch yourself on the edge of the bar before you can drop it.

This morning, you could barely get out of bed. Fever burning through you like you were standing too close to a bonfire, throat too sore to talk, and your head pounding so hard you thought you were going to pass out just brushing your teeth. 

You tried calling in. Tried. Told your manager, Greg, that you were sick as hell, couldn’t make it, but the guy just grunted like he always does. "Can’t afford anyone calling out today," he said. Like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up to sling drinks for a bunch of rich assholes.

So here you are.

You rub the back of your neck, trying to loosen up some of the tension building there, but it doesn’t help. Nothing really does at this point.

"Hey!" The guy who ordered the whiskey sour snaps his fingers in your face. "You deaf or something? Whiskey. Sour."

"Got it," You mutter, trying not to let your voice crack as you finally pour his drink. 

Your vision swims a little as you set it down in front of him, and for a second, you think you might actually faint right here at the bar.

That’d be something. Faceplant into a bunch of overpriced cocktails in front of half of the Kooks on this island. Greg would probably just step over you and ask you to get back to work.

You lean against the bar for a second. Your stomach rolls, threatening to revolt, but you choke it back. You can’t afford to be sick here. Not when you’re already in trouble with your manager for barely making it on time. You think back to the half-assed breakfast you tried to eat—if you can call a slice of toast breakfast—and how your stomach rejected it like poison.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rafe coming in. And suddenly, you’re even more aware of how wrecked you are.

You know he still struggles with how independent you are sometimes. You’ve always been the kind of girl who handles things on her own, and Rafe has this tendency to think that means you don’t need him.

Today, though? You need him more than ever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call for help.

You immediately know it’s gonna be a thing.

His eyes lock onto you from across the bar, and even through the fog in your head, you can see that look on his face. He’s pissed. Of course, he’s pissed. His jaw’s clenched like he’s biting back whatever rant he’s about to drop on you, and you can already feel the tension creeping up your neck.

Great, as if you didn’t feel bad enough already.

You try to stand a little straighter, look a little less like you're one second from collapsing, but your legs are jelly, and the room’s still spinning like you’re on some messed-up carnival ride.

You don’t want him to see how bad you’re hurting right now. But today? You’re too out of it to even try and explain.

He strides up to the bar, looking sharp, as usual. Meanwhile, you probably look like death warmed over. His eyes are scanning you, taking in the pale face, the way you’re gripping the edge of the bar like you’re about to keel over. You see his lips tighten, and yeah, he’s definitely about to lay into you.

“You didn’t call,” he says, voice low but definitely annoyed. He leans in, trying to keep this between just the two of you, but with how loud the bar is, it still feels like a confrontation.

“I’m fine,” you lie, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. 

Rafe’s eyes narrow. He’s not buying it. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Why didn’t you call me?”

You hate that you feel guilty.

“Because I’m handling it,” you say, voice softer now. But even you can hear how weak you sound.

It’s not convincing. Hell, you’re not even convinced.

He crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “Handling it? Baby, you can barely stand.”

You let out a sigh, trying not to let it turn into a cough.

"I’m fine," you repeat, but even you know it sounds pathetic at this point. Your head feels like it's full of cotton, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through the next few minutes, let alone your entire shift.

But pride’s a bitch.

Rafe just stands there, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to come clean. You can feel his frustration, but there’s something else, too. Worry. It’s in the way his eyes keep flicking over your face, how his fingers are tapping against his arm like he’s holding himself back from just scooping you up and carrying you out of here.

"I heard from Topper," he finally says, like he’s been holding that card in his back pocket. You blink, trying to keep up. "He saw you at the club earlier, said you didn’t look right."

Great. Freaking Topper. Of course, idiot couldn’t mind his own business. You can almost picture him, all dressed up in some preppy golf outfit, spotting you from across the course and making a note to text Rafe the second he saw something off.

Rafe’s still watching you, waiting for a reaction.

You open your mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to brush it off, but your brain’s too foggy, and all you manage is a weak, "I was fine then."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? 'Cause Top said you looked like you were about to hurl on the 9th hole." He’s trying to keep his voice low, but you can tell he’s annoyed. Not at Topper, not even really at you—just at the whole situation.

You want to snap back, tell him you’re fine, that you’ve got it under control. But instead, all that comes out is another tired sigh. “Greg wouldn’t let me call out. Said they needed me.”

“You serious?”

“Dead-serious.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches so tight you think you hear his teeth grind. His hands come out of his pockets, flexing like he’s about to hit something—or someone. He runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he says something he’ll regret.

But you know him—he’s never been great at holding back when he’s pissed. And right now? He’s definitely pissed.

“Greg said that?” His voice is low, but there’s this dangerous edge to it, like he’s two seconds away from losing it, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come down here, I would’ve—”

“I know.” You cut him off because you do know.

He would’ve dropped everything and come running. That’s exactly why you didn’t call. You didn’t want to be the a burden again. Like you said, you’re still working on yourself.

Rafe leans against the bar, his whole body radiating this intensity that makes you feel both comforted and nervous.

“So, let me get this straight,” he says, voice louder now, not even bothering to keep it low-key anymore. “You’re sick as hell, and that asshole wouldn’t let you stay home?”

You wince. He’s drawing attention now, people at the bar starting to glance over. You hate seeing him like this, but you don’t have the energy to smooth things over.

“Rafe, please—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No, seriously. What kind of fucking manager forces someone to come in when they’re this sick?” His voice carries, and a couple of the other bartenders are giving you looks, like they can’t decide if they’re more surprised or impressed by Rafe’s audacity, "You’re killing yourself for this job, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

You glance toward the back, hoping Greg’s still in the office and not witnessing this meltdown. The last thing you need right now is more heat from him. But of course, your luck sucks, because just as Rafe’s ramping up, Greg strides out from the back, clipboard in hand, that same stupid scowl on his face like he’s already annoyed at everything.

Rafe spots him instantly, and if you thought he was mad before, now he’s on a whole other level.

"Greg!" Rafe calls out, loud enough that half the bar turns to look. Your stomach sinks. This is about to get ugly.

Greg stops dead in his tracks, his eyes flicking to Rafe and then back to you. He knows. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, and he’s already losing the upper hand.

“Yeah, Rafe?” Greg’s voice is weak, almost shaky. Like he’s trying to keep it together, but he knows he’s got no chance. Rafe’s family literally owns half the island—Greg’s just some middle manager with too much attitude.

Your boyfriend steps forward, slow and deliberate, closing the space between them like he’s already won this thing.

“You made her come in today?” His voice is calm, but it’s that scary kind of calm that’s worse than yelling. The kind that makes your stomach drop because you know the person holding it together is barely holding back.

Greg opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is this pathetic mumble. “We… we were short-staffed.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into this cold, humorless smile. “Short-staffed?” He glances at you, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You really didn’t want this to turn into a scene, but here you are. “You see how she looks right now? You made her come in like this?”

Greg’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Rafe, and you can see the panic starting to set in. He’s sweating now, probably realizing that this little power trip he’s on is about to bite him in the ass. “She didn’t… uh… say she couldn’t work…”

“She told you she was sick,” Rafe cuts him off, voice like steel. “You’re the manager, right? Thought that meant taking care of your staff. Guess I was wrong.”

Greg’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing’s coming. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, knowing any move he makes right now could get him fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted from every job on the island. The Cameron’s have that kind of pull.

“I-I didn’t realize how bad it was,” Greg finally stammers, but even he doesn’t sound convinced by his own excuse.

Rafe takes another step forward, practically towering over Greg now. “You didn’t realize?” He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Look at her, man. How could you not realize?”

You wince as the room seems to get quieter, everyone watching this power struggle unfold. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but you also know that Rafe’s not letting this slide.

Greg takes a step back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“I-I was just trying to keep things running. We… we were slammed.”

Rafe’s smile drops, and now it’s just pure ice. “You think that’s a good enough reason to put my girlfriend’s health at risk?”

Greg looks like he’s about to pass out himself at this point, but he manages to mutter, “No… no, I—I didn’t mean…”

“Here’s the deal, Greg,” Rafe says, voice low but dangerous. “You’re gonna back off. Let her finish this shift if she wants. If she doesn’t? She’s out, no questions asked. And next time, when she says she’s sick, you listen.”

Greg nods so fast it’s like his head’s on a swivel. “Of course, of course, Rafe. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just—”

“Good,” Rafe interrupts, already turning away like he’s done with this conversation. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Greg just stands there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly too scared to even argue. He stammers some half-hearted apology, but Rafe’s already turning back to you, brushing the whole thing off like it was nothing.

You look up at him, still in shock at how quickly Greg folded. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the bar with that easy confidence he always has. “Yeah, I did,” he says, his tone softening now that it’s just the two of you. “I’m not gonna let some nobody push you around like that.”

You sigh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. “You know he’s probably gonna hate me even more now.”

Rafe smirks, like that’s the least of his concerns. “Who cares? He won’t say a fuckin’ thing. Trust me.”

“Everyone’s going to say a thing, baby. They’re gonna think I have some kind of privilege because I’m dating you.”

Rafe’s smirk softens. He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him over the dull roar of the bar.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “You’ve been busting your ass here long before I ever stepped in. Nobody can take that from you.”

You bite your lip, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, judgment and curiosity. He’s right in a way—you’ve been working extra hard. But still, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that now, everyone’s going to assume you’ve got some special treatment just because of Rafe’s name.

“It’s not about that,” you murmur, “I just—don’t want people thinking I can’t stand on my own. I don’t want to be the girl who hides behind her boyfriend’s power.”

Rafe tilts his head, studying you with that look he always gives when he knows you're holding back.

“You think that’s what this is?” His voice is steady, his tone a little softer now. “This wasn’t about power, baby. This was about someone treating you like you didn’t matter. And I’m not letting anyone—anyone—do that to you.”

He’s not wrong.

Greg didn’t give a damn about how sick you were, only about keeping the bar running, like you were replaceable. And you hate how right Rafe is, how much you needed someone to step in, even if it makes you feel a little helpless. You swallow hard, the tightness in your chest easing slightly, though your body still feels like it’s been run over by a truck.

“And you’re not working anymore today, or the next week for that matter. You’re gonna get your ass in my car and we’re going to the doctor.”

You nod, knowing there’s no arguing with Rafe when he’s like this, but part of you still feels guilty.

Not for needing help exactly, but for not being able to handle it all on your own. You've always been the girl who grits her teeth and gets through it, but today? Your body is screaming at you that you just can’t. Not anymore.

Rafe’s watching you closely, like he’s waiting for you to argue, but you don’t. You’re too drained. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Greg is wearing off, and now all you feel is this bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’m not going to a doctor,” you say, even though you know you probably should. “Just home. I just need to sleep.”

He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, but then he just nods. “Fine. But if you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m dragging you to urgent care. No arguments.”

You give him a weak smile, trying to show you appreciate it even though you feel like crap.

“Deal.”

Without another word, he moves around the bar, ignoring Greg’s gawking and the way everyone’s still sneaking glances at you two. He gently takes the towel out of your hand, sets it on the counter, and slips an arm around your waist.

It’s the first time you’ve felt stable all day, leaning into him like you might actually make it to the car without collapsing.

“I don’t think I can afford an appointment.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His arm tightens around your waist, steadying you as you start to sway a little on your feet.

"Not worried about the money.”

You try to shake your head, but the movement makes you dizzy, and you stop, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

"I just don’t want to be that person, you know? Relying on you for everything."

He gives you a side glance, eyebrows raised.

"Baby, you’re not relying on me for everything. You’re literally sick, and I’m not about to let you tough it out just because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. We’ve talked about this a million times.”

"I guess," you mumble, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you walk towards the door.

"No guessing about it," he says, softer now, his fingers brushing your arm in a way that makes you feel more grounded. "You’ve been holding down the fort for too long. Let me take care of you for once."

The air outside hits you like a slap, but Rafe keeps you close, leading you toward his car. Your legs are weak, the fever still simmering under your skin, but his body warmth keeps you upright.

"Thanks," you whisper, even though it feels weird to say. You’re not used to thanking people for basic care, but with Rafe, it feels different.

He pauses, opening the passenger door for you.

"You don’t gotta thank me, okay? I’m just doing what anyone who loves you would do."

Your heart skips at that. You’re still not used to how easily he says stuff like that, like it’s no big deal. But he’s rubbing off on you, because you can say it just as easily now.

“I love you too, sorry for being a pain in your ass.”

Rafe chuckles as he helps you into the car, leaning down to make sure you’re settled before he shuts the door. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You're always a pain in my ass," he murmurs against your skin, grinning as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "But you’re my pain in the ass, and that’s what matters."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite how wrecked you feel. The fever, the headache, the exhaustion—it all takes a backseat, at least for a moment. 

Knowing Rafe’s always got your back? That makes it a little easier to breathe.

[zvdvdlvr]

— late night therapy?

🩻 synopsis. late night conversation, greg wants to know why you’re with him of all people.

🩻 warnings. suggestive content, foul language.

“Why do you like me?” 

Y/n looked up from her book. “What?” 

“I’m old. I’m a cripple. I… literally have two friends and no people skills. I know my amazing fashion sense and long, hard wood is enticing, but by golly, if those are your only standards-“ 

Y/n closed her book. She noticed the television was off, Greg had been clearly been thinking about this for awhile. Not only that, but his jaw was clenched, and his left eye was just slightly narrowed- all indicators of (over)thinking. “Besides the fact your ruggedly handsome and extremely masculine voice makes me purr like a motorcycle?”

At least y/n’s comment made Greg crack a smile. “Yes, besides the obvious,” he murmured, tilting his head to the side.

“Because… you’re one of the only people who calls me out when I’m wrong. One of the only people who can put up with me. One of the only people who makes me laugh, with your morbid, dry, perverted humor,” y/n listed. 

House turned these over in his mind. Why, though? Why would such an amazing, smart, sexy wonderful woman settle for an old cripple? “Wilson thinks you could do better,” he drawls, not actually knowing if Wilson thinks this. 

“Do you care what they think?” Y/n asks, quick to notice the change in Greg’s voice. The way his eyebrows furrow, his Adam’s apple bobs, his eyes narrow even more.

No. “Do you?” 

“I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you,” y/n shrugs. “You’ve always got me, if that’s what you’re thinking about. I can’t imagine my future without you in it, I guess.” Y/n tried her best to play of the sentiment, but Greg was already smiling widely at her statements. 

“Is this, like, a hint? Am I supposed to propose now?” Greg asks, tapping his finger to his chin. 

“Oh so you’ve got a ring?”

Scoffing, House looks away from y/n’s piercing eyes. “Oh, shut up, you.”

“Make me,” y/n’s teases. 

Greg tsks. “I would but I’m pretty sure my hobble steps would immediately turn you off. As fast as a light switch.”

“Oh goody, does that mean if I go over there I get to be on top tonight?” Y/n asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Get over here and see, you weirdo,” Greg chuckles, opening his arms for a woman he knows would place her faith in him forever, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it.

[bigification]

Coach's Emergency Line

It was ten minutes until their big final was set to begin. Every player rushed through the locker room to get their gear on. College football was taken really seriously by their school, so the pressure was on.

"Ha anyone seen Coach! We've got ten minutes till it's go time." The team captain yelled out.

The room fell silent. No one had seen Coach since their last practice, and he was nowhere to be seen on the big day.

"Something's wrong, Coach prepared me for this situation." The captain said under his breath. "This is a code red team! We need to use Coach's Emergency Line." The chatter in the room immediately stopped as the words echoed around the room.

"But Coach said that for emergencies only." One player broke the silence.

"This is an emergency. He's not here for the big game, he would only miss this if something was really wrong." The captain explained.

"What do we do, we've never had a code red." Chimed from another player.

"Greg!" The captain said sternly.

All eyes pointed to the freshmen, making him sink in shyness. Up to this point he had been a bench warmer, seemingly chosen just to fill out the roster.

"I need you to use the emergency line." The captain approached Greg.

"W- why me?" Greg stuttered, feeling all the eyes in the room staring.

"Coach instructed me that it had to be you." He said in a serious tone.

"Oh... Ok." Greg smiled slightly, just happy to finally be of use to the team.

He sheepishly walked to the big red button in the corner of the locker room. "Emergency line" was displayed in bright yellow above the button. He flipped up the glass casing and slowly pressed the button down.

WOOOOO! WOOOOO!

An alarm sounded as a red light began to flash. Greg froze in place with his finger still holding the button down. A static shocked traveled up his finger and right into his heart. A grunt escaped from his lips as his heart stopped.

Suddenly his chest started to pulsate outward, slowly growing with each pulse. His flat chest quickly grew into two meaty pecs that strained against his tiny shirt. His abdomen narrowed into a v shape as muscle piled into his midsection. Although a layer of fat quickly covered his growing six pack, giving him a small belly. His torso started to grow taller as well, making his shirt ride up and revealing his slutty waist and pudgy belly.

Next his shoulder broadened as his traps grew into thick muscles, so much so that his shirt started to rip around his shoulders. His noodle-like arms started to pulsate, similar to his chest. Each pulse brought more and more muscle, his biceps became the size of footballs as veins surfaced all the way down his strong arms. Even his hands doubled in size with thick fingers, letting him easily grip a football with one hand.

His waist started to tremble and his legs began to shake. It wasn't long before his spandex pants were ripped to shreds. The entire team watched as his juicy ass bounced as it ripped through his pants. The rest of his pants ripped clean in half as his thighs thickened and his calves became large and defined. As his pants fell to the ground, his jockstrap started to struggle holding in his growing cock. Good thing he wouldn't be on the field today, because that jock is doing nothing to protect his now 8 inch dick. Even his feet busted out of his cleats, becoming a monstrous size 18.

His height further increased as his legs grew, leaving him at an intimidating 6"6. Finally his head began to change. It grew to match his massive stature. In the process, his jawline became sharp as a knife and his eyes became sleek and intimidating. His shoulder length hair fell out, leaving a short buzz cut as his hairline receded halfway up his head. Some of his hairs even started to turn grey, which in combination with his new wrinkles, aged him well into his forties. A five o'clock shadow quickly spread across his face as a mustache formed above his lip. The hair started to spread downward, covering his chest with a forest of hair, followed by his stomach. A pelt of hair covered his muscly back, then it spread down his arms and on his thick man hands. The hair created a jungle down his ass and spread a thick coat down his legs and to his feet.

By the time Greg, I mean Coach took his finger off the button, there was nothing left of the freshman. Just a 6"6 hulk of a man in a jock and a tiny shirt was left behind. Coach's hand lifted above the button and grabbed the ball cap that was now hanging conveniently in front of his. He quickly covered up his balding head and turned to face his team. He pulled on his jockstrap, trying to make it not press on his dick so hard. Then he smiled at his team as he just realized what had happened.

"Will someone get me some fucking clothes that fit me!" Coach belted in a deep gruff voice.

[biahouse]

Perfect for him, Gregory House x Reader

You're House's girlfriend. Wilson doesn't like you, but... 3 times Wilson realized you were the perfect person for house, +1 time he finally admits it

There was something about you that James Wilson made to hate you.

Maybe it was the way you were the silliest nurse at the hospital, and always fell for the patients' stupid conversations.

Or because you always do your coworkers' duties.

Or the way that in every surgery he performs, you insist on being an assistant nurse and talking to her throughout the procedure.

Or maybe he hated having his best friend stolen.

Wilson didn't hate people. That was House's job. It was even comical that in your situation, House adored you and Wilson hated you with all his being.

Don't get me wrong, you weren't a bad person.

He just doesn't like you.

1

The first time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was at lunch. Since the beginning of the relationship between you and Greg, the doctor in question used to have lunch with you in his office.

But on that particular day, you were very busy in surgery. So with no other alternative, House had to have lunch with Wilson.

It was a surprise for James to see his friend entering the room with a packed lunch. House was known for eating junk food with all his meals. So Wilson assumed that if that hadn't changed with your relationship, he was wrong.

"What is that?" Wilson asked with an incredulous look at the lined pots that Gregory placed on the table.

"Food?" House responded as if it were obvious and mocked his friend.

"Okay, I know. But, I mean... you don't usually eat that."

"I know" House threw himself into the chair and opened one of the jars and started poking a carrot. "Carrots are a horrible thing, you know?"

"House" Wilson called his friend carefully. "Is this some kind of diet for addicts that I don't know about?"

"No. Y/n told me that I should eat more vegetables if I wanted to live longer" The doctor rolled his eyes when he remembered the argument he had with his wife a few weeks ago and since then she usually makes him lunch. "So I'm pleasing my girl" And with that he stuffed the orange vegetable into his mouth with a grimace.

Wilson could only look at his friend in shock.

For years he had tried to get House to eat a healthier diet, and you had achieved it in just a few weeks. Wilson had to admit, he liked you a little more now.

2

The second time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was a week after the lunch incident. He and House were bowling, like they did on Wednesdays.

However, there was something strange about House. He was limping and in more pain than usual.

"What is it? Are you afraid of losing to me or did you forget the Vicodin at home?" Wilson mocked his friend as he threw the ball into the pins.

"Neither" House limped closer to the track when it was his turn to play.

"Is the pain getting worse?" Now James asked worried that Greg's leg was getting worse.

"No"

"Okay House, you win. Why are you in pain?"

"Because I'm trying to taper off the Vicodin" House replied with a shrug and celebrated without a strike.

"What?" Wilson raised his voice making people look at him. Which made him apologize immediately. "You. Gregory House, are you trying to stop Vicodin?"

"Y/n said it's going to kill me. She didn't suggest I stop taking it, but she was upset that I took so many. So I'm trying to cut down."

Wilson opened his mouth in astonishment.

Who was that man?

Gregory House would never cut down on your daily Vicodin cocktail.

But he did, for you.

Only for you.

3

The third time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was on a random day at the hospital a few months after the second time.

House entered his office as he always did, without knocking and suddenly, which made Wilson jump out of his chair every time, even though he was used to it. But something felt wrong that time.

The way House for the first time looked nervous and really confused. For a while, James watched his friend limp around the room as if he was begging for something very deep in his own mind.

Wilson waited, he knew that like every other time House would start telling him about his doubts and he would give him one of his beautiful pieces of advice, which House would probably never follow.

"I want to ask Y/n to marry me" House blurted out and looked at his friend nervously.

"What?" Wilson blurted out the question with a laugh. "Marriage?".

"Yes" Greg said, shaking his head and plopped down on the armchair in his friend's living room. "I thought about it all week"

"All week?"

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say or are you going to tell me your opinion on this?" Greg scoffed at his friend and adjusted himself in the chair, his leg hurting a little.

"What do you want me to say House?" Wilson asked and looked through his patient's files once more, before closing the folder and focusing fully on the matter at hand. "I thought I would never get married"

"I know" House passed his hand across the gap in his forehead. "I don't know why I want it. I just want it."

"Gregory House doesn't know why, that's something I never thought I'd hear" James smiled playfully.

"For the first time I want something more. I want her to be my wife. Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Wilson answered honestly. "It just means you're better House."

"Does that mean you'll help me pick out a ring?"

"As long as you don't make me pay."

Wilson would never understand his relationship with House. Or how two very different people could do such great things together.

Wilson didn't hate you. He understood now. It was just jealousy that you achieved everything he always tried to do. Improve House.

He didn't hate you. Now he respected you.

+1

“Hey Y/n” Wilson called out your name when he saw you walking down the hall with a clipboard.

"Wilson, hi!" You waved at him enthusiastically. It was the first time he willingly spoke to you.

"I just wanted to say thank you" James said making the woman frown in confusion.

"What are you thanking me for? I don't remember helping you" Y/n questioned.

"But it helped, with House" Wilson explained. "I'm sorry for treating you badly all this time."

"You didn't treat me" Y/n shrugged with a smile. "I stole your best friend, it makes sense that you don't like me that much. But it means a lot that you like me now."

"I think you two are perfect for each other," Wilson admitted for the first time out loud. "I can't wait to be the godfather."

"Godfather?" Y/n asked.

"You'll see" Wilson smiled knowingly. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Another

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: You go with your brothers to a bar, but things turn sideways when a stranger won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: creepy guy, scared reader, protective Sam and Dean

Another hunt. Another town. Another bar.

After you guys had moved into the bunker, some stupid, stupid part of you thought that maybe some things would change. But some things would always be the same.

You didn’t mind the hunting, you really didn’t. You didn’t want to do it, and you wished your brothers had a safer life, but you understood at least. They helped people, and that was everything.

But you hated this; being in a town full of strangers in a bar full of people much older than you, huddling in a corner waiting for your big brothers. There was nothing like not belonging while being surrounded by drunk, adult strangers.

Usually, the adults would stare at you like you were an alien for a moment or two, then ignore you. Young teens weren’t common in bars, but it wasn’t interesting enough to keep them from their good times.

This time, something was different. A man near the bar had been staring at you ever since you walked in the door. You had even gone to the other side of the bar to avoid him, but he followed. He hadn’t approached you, but he wouldn’t stop staring. Since he’d yet to go near you, you didn’t see a reason to bother Sam and Dean about it.

But he was starting to freak you out, so you found yourself trying to locate Sam or Dean in the crowded bar.

“Hey.”

You were so distracted looking for your brothers that you hadn’t seen the man approaching.

“Name’s Greg,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you muttered, still glancing around for Sam and Dean.

“What’s a sweetheart like you doing here alone?” Greg asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“‘M not—“ You were squirming in your seat now, and Sam and Dean were nowhere to be seen. “—not alone.”

“Now don’t be nervous.” Greg took the seat next to you and scooted it closer so that his knee was touching yours. You tried to scoot back, but you chair was already against the wall. You couldn’t go back, and Greg was angled in such a way that if you got up, he was blocking any easy exit.

“I have to find my brothers,” you said, deciding to risk it and stand up, attempting to squirm past the man.

Your whole body stiffened as though someone had dropped an ice cube down your back. Greg, still sitting in his own chair, and grabbed your leg right above your knee when you stood. His fingers were curled, gripping you much too tightly.

“Hey now,” he said, trying to keep up the sweet tone but sounding annoyed. “No need to rush off.” His fingers slackened their grip, but once he let go he stood, towering over you much too closely. And then the hand that was on your knee was on your shoulder, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin near your neck.

“I-I have to—“ your voice caught in your throat when his grip tightened painfully.

“No you don’t,” he all but commanded. “Just stay right here with me, nobody’s gonna miss you.” He shifted forward until all you could see was him. Your back was up against the wall; you had nowhere to go.

“Please don’t—“

“Hey!”

As soon as Greg had appeared, he was gone, and in his place stood the men you’d been so desperate to find.

Dean was shoving Greg toward the exit, and Sam was right there with him until you called out for him.

Sam turned hesitantly, leaving Dean to deal with the creep as he rushed to you and began to examine you.

“Did he hurt you?” Sam demanded.

You shook your head even as you rubbed your sore shoulder. This didn’t go unnoticed by Sam, who pulled aside your sleeve just enough to see the bruises already forming near your neck. His jaw ticked, and he turned to go after Greg, but you grabbed onto his sleeve to keep him near you.

“Don’t go,” you pleaded, and he relented immediately. The moment his arms wrapped around your shoulders, you all but melted into him. The adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins since the moment the man laid his hands on you now felt like a foreign substance pulsing in you, clogging your lungs and burning your eyes and making your knees weak. Your big brother held your weight up effortlessly, rubbing your back and breathing with exaggerated slowness as an example for you to slow your own ragged, racing breaths.

“You’re ok, you’re ok,” he breathed over and over again. “You’re safe now, I’ve got you.”

“Hey.” Dean’s voice had you peaking out from the safety of Sam’s arms. He was standing next to you now, his knuckles suspiciously bruised and bloodied. “Hey, you ok sweetheart?”

You nodded weakly, still resting against Sam. Dean pulled his jacket off and draped it against your shaking shoulders, and the familiar weight and scent washed over you and seemed to abate the adrenaline in your system, at least a little. You took a slow, deep breath that matched Sam’s.

“Let’s get you to the Impala, ok?” Sam suggested gently. You nodded, and Sam kept his arm around your shoulder as the brothers ushered you out. There wasn’t a moment when you weren’t completely surrounded by their protective presence.

Sam guided you into the back of the Impala before joining Dean in the front seats.

Dean glanced back at you every few seconds in the rearview mirror.

“How’s it going back there?”

“‘M ok,” you mumbled, and Dean’s eyebrows curved downward as his mouth retreated into a thin line.

“Ok,” he sighed, and you knew he didn’t believe you.

It didn’t take long to reach the motel, and once the three of you were settled inside Sam spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head quickly, bringing your legs up to your chest and hugging your knees.

“I’m fine,” you said shakily. “He just—he got a little pushy…and grabby.”

“Grabby?” Dean gritted his teeth. “I knew I should’ve hit him harder.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” you sighed.

“Ok, ok.” Dean rubbed his face. “I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault,” you said quickly. “It’s not—it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes it is,” Dean insisted. “And it’s not going to happen again. Either me or Sam is gonna be with you next time, we’re not gonna leave you alone again, ok?”

You nodded. “Ok, that…that sounds good. In case there’s another time.”

“There’s not gonna be another time,” Sam said, pulling you into his arms. “We’re gonna be there. Always.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale

[ktsphere]

I was at the studio record for tonight's taskmaster episode, so full debrief below the readmore! (Spoilers for TM S18E5)

[Some things may be paraphrased as I wrote it all down immediately after the episode record.]

ARRIVAL AND SEATING

We got to the studio at about 10:15am, there were approx 10 people there already

The staff didn't turn up till 10:30 so we made our own queue

Staff moved our queue and told everyone with cars in the visitor carpark to move them, they join the queue in their cars while people on foot queued in the rain

Lots of waiting around, then the queue was moved, then a quick security check, then wristbands and more waiting around. There were not enough toilets. There were snacks and drinks available to buy but no "real" food.

We started moving again at 12:45.

The first 22 people got orange wrist bands and we were put in the gallery! (11 on each side)

The gallery itself is only as deep as the chairs, it's very much only decorated on the sides that the camera can see.

The decoration behind us was plasticy and painted gold, kind of like paper plate material.

The wall was painted with the same pattern as the sides, but super small, gold on red, but looked less neat than the big stuff which is more visible on camera.

Underneath us was bare wood and we were in a metal frame.

My friend went to the loo and said Greg and Alex's seats arrived on the back of a trailer and stopped at the zebra crossing for her.

The studio was much smaller than I expected, 5 or so rows of seats in the front section, literally within arms reach of the seat 1 contestant. This looked like it was all people with a red wristband, who were 2nd after orange.

The back section was bigger, I'd say maybe 8 rows deep? And wider.

There was some reshuffling of seats near the end, some people who were right at the back were put in the front row at the last minute (probably some priority people didn't turn up?)

I don't think anyone's view was obstructed by cameras, but the left gallery couldn't see the contestants' faces, while the right gallery (including me) couldn't see Greg & Alex's faces.

(I did see Alex's shoulders sort of hunch every time he got the giggles though which was incredibly cute)

INTRO

Mark the warm up man got people shouting out & making noise (he comes back at every ad break, and every set change break)(some of the breaks he asked if we had any questions about the filming of TM and answered them to the best of his ability)(one time we played audience tinder, which is like audience guess who but based on 1 single person's romantic requirements (man, single, over 23, under 30. This got everyone out, and mark announced that was why she was still single.)

Mark brought Greg on

Someone shouted happy birthday

Greg: it's not today, it was on the 14th. I'm 55. Today it's ............................... It was.................

Someone in the Audience: it was on Tuesday!

[Note today is thursday]

Greg: At a certain age you stop counting birthdays. I woke up and realised I was closer to 60 than 50, And genuinely the first thing I said when I woke up, alone in my bedroom, was "blink"

Greg brought Alex on

Alex: I have some bad news

Greg: oh no

Alex: you're actually 56

Greg: oh what did I say?

Alex: 55

Greg: oh I was in a good mood and you've put me in a bad mood now

Greg asked the audience for help with Alex's improv

Alex was told to come up with a Pop song about corn

This was misheard by Greg as porn

They decided on corny porn

Greg gives Alex a beat

Alex [singing]: Sometimes a man gets lonely

*Greg and audience piss themselves, Alex breaks*

Greg: I thought I'd give you some time there to come up with a rhyme for lonely

Alex: oh I'm going for an ABCB rhyming scheme

[Slightly paraphrased in places because I'm not perfect]

[Greg beat starts up again]

Alex, Singing:

Sometimes a man gets lonely

And that man is Alex Horne

all his friends are out for the evening

So he opens his corny porn

[verse 2]

*Something about Cracker jokes*

*something about a boy and a girl*

*[I forgot this line]*

And then they have full sex.

(((If anyone was there and remembers these lines I will happily make edits)))

Greg: I thought you were going to shy away from the sex

Alex: oh, no, didn't shy away

Greg: they have legitimate sex

Alex: well they do love each other, so it's legitimate sex

Alex: But it wasn't being filmed

Alex: It was actually behind a closed door

Greg: so it wasn't porn at all

Contestants are introduced to the audience by greg before they all sit down

Andy zaltzman is wearing a snooker outfit, with cue and chalk. He is told (by Greg, who was told by the greenroom) to put the cue over his left shoulder so the cameras can see him. He says the producer told him to wear it over his right just before the show. Greg relays this to the greenroom, and then says [to greenroom] "bit harsh", and [to Andy] "he called you a lying cunt"

Babatunde aleshe

Emma sidi

Jack Dee

Rosie jones

The Makeup team come on, there's some admin stuff (fire safety etc)

Then it starts properly, they play the introduction on the big screen

Greg: A man who told me fire fighters are the ¿Least ?? ? Of all the emergency services.

Alex: I was most scared if this one because if my house burns down...

Greg: Well you should stop telling me these things

BANTER SECTION

Alex: The group chat is popping off

The taskmaster WhatsApp, we've had some questions

Alex: Question from Brian. Actually, a lot of people asked this. Are Greg and Alex twins?

Alex: Someone else asked if I was ok

Greg: yes I always wonder that

Alex: I had an ECG and felt better

Alex: an EGG

Alex: I had an egg.

Greg: *Groans*

Greg: You do it on purpose. I was in a good mood. You've put me in a foul mood. Is that really all you've prepared? Someone thinks we're twins, and you've had an egg.

PRIZE TASK

Thing that's best when you add water

Baba, trying to defend jelly to greg: "You know when your mums just like-"

Greg: "sorry I'm going to stop you there, it sounded like you called my mum a slag

*General confusion*

[They Continue]

Baba: you know when your mums a slag

*Everyone in the audience heard it this time*

Baba confused, everyone else pissing themselves

*Repeat multiple times, everyone getting more and more hysterical*

Baba: you know when Your Mum *Says*...

Greg, holding his ear piece: How likely is it the slag comments are going to be left in? The gallery says 100%.

TASK 1: Alex is a robot, direct to charging port, gibe an instruction every 10 seconds, robot wont follow instructions with o or e

Emma makes sexual moans when she sees the robot

Greg replays VT multiple times, she calls it "Platonic arousal"

Long discussion about mascots and those tall wobbly dancing tubes, and Mr blobby

Emma loves them all but they have to move

Greg brings up a butcher mascot which was a pig cutting parts of itself off, but it doesn't move so Emma isn't interested. If it moved she'd like it

Andy: Coming from a Jewish background, would the pig cutting parts of itself off be kosher?

Emma: no! [Pause for laughter/apology/embarrassment] sorry, no because pork isn't kosher. It's the trotters.

Someone: if the pig cuts its own trotters off then maybe it could be kosher

Greg: snip snip snip, out it goes

[There's a submarine in the garden?!!]

Emma, during task: walk lady

Emma, in studio: I changed it to walk by lady, I realised I could say by

Greg: Bisexual lady?

Emma: I'm not assuming the sexuality of the robot

Lots of "I mean him, not me" from Alex when talking about the robot

Rosie points out she got a lap dance from the robot

Emma: "Oh robot - we've found it!" (Or similar)

Greg takes the piss multiple times throughout the ep

TASK 2: make the strongest smell and put it in this jar. *Jar is sealed for 3-4 months until the studio record*

Rosie's sounds very very ominous, everyone is scared

On the back of the task it says anyone who is unwilling to smell their own jar gets 0 points

They talk about how that's definitely backfired on Rosie

Rosie: I'm actually quite excited, I want to smell it

Greg makes Alex read something out

Alex: oh, strange, this one is handwritten. Alex also has to smell the jars or Greg will kick him in the gooch

Emma pretends hers smells super strong, Greg describes it as mild

Baba: marmite and coffee, makes his eyes bulge

Rosie's is hugely disappointing. She repeats how disappointed she is. Greg doesn't believe her until he smells it and says he is also disappointed.

Andy's makes all the contestants gag (sardines, vinegar, huge mix of random crap, detergent, soap,)

Alex: I was surprised you went with things that remove stubborn smells

*The smells waft up to the balcony and to some of the front row. *

Jack's makes Greg lightheaded and have to pause for a bit (air freshener)

Later, in one of the breaks:

Audience member: why didn't Alex smell the smells?

Audience ooh and mutter

Mark: very good question

[Alex did not then smell the smells :( ]

TASK 3: Present a heartwarming local news story

[Team task!]

Rosie and Jack

Andy, Emma and Baba

The intro to this gets played again because they did some smelly pickups while the table was still out, and then packed it up again, and by that time everyone had forgotten what the task was.

Greg says Andy looks younger as Isabella the old lady than as himself

*Greg talks shit about both their attempts*

Greg says he thinks they both did really well

Alex: *do* you think that? It didn't sound like that

Greg says Emma could genuinely be a newsreader (Emma: middle class), then there was a whole section where Rosie and Greg talk about how alluring/hot Fiona Bruce is

STUDIO TASK: catapult parachute target

During set up we could see Alex on the side of the stage waiting for everything to be ready, we waved at him from the balcony and he waved back with confused but happy smile

The edge of the target was literally 50cm away from the front row. Front section were warned to 'watch out'

Mark: I wasn't sure I was allowed to mention it being a catapult

*Shadow of a catapult clearly visible through the screen*

Baba tried to shoot one really flat and it flew straight into the audience (3rd row!)

He immediately sat on the losers bench before the others had even gone

Emma's doesn't unfurl and goes 2nd row of the audience

Rosie Vs jack at the end: Rosie playing up the cerebral palsy deliberately to put jack off, stuff like "you wouldn't beat a disabled girl", and "I have cerebral palsy", "I didn't breathe for 17 minutes"

Jack really struggled to get his last shot because he was bent over laughing

It looked like a draw, Greg had to adjudicate

When he called a win for jack, Rosie pretended she was really struggling to walk over to the losers bench

After they'd all been:

Alex: I'm really glad they all flew. In the rehearsals we had loads of crap goes

Greg: How do you feel jack?

Jack: Guilty

Greg: And how do you feel Rosie?

Rosie: *Big fake sad face (which kept breaking)* "...*tiny broken voice* sad :( " *Followed by instant giggles*

TIE BREAK: how many days old will Alex be on Christmas day 2024? Have to be looking into his eyes the whole time

Emma Vs jack, Emma got very close, jack just gave up. Rosie actually got the closest (within 70? Days)

END:

And we've learned that my mum's a slag

We were told it was the first time ever all 5 contestants have won the first 5 episodes

*Contestants leave*

Man with crutches in audience [to rosie]: before this I thought you were so sweet (ominous pause) but now I think you're *wonderful* [Rosie hugged him!]

Greg: we all thought you were going to say something horrible. I was getting ready to put Alex between us

PICKUPS

Greg and Alex do lots of repeats for previous fuck ups and make lots more fuck ups.

*Talking to empty chairs*

Greg keeps apologising for how long it's all taking

Greg: we all want to go home

Greg: We're going to do a physical bit and you're going to absolutely love it. You'll know it when you see it.

*At the end of one of the pickups they both turn in their chairs and look at the blank screen. Audience love it*

Greg gets told by the gallery to repeat ¿papas meat?

Greg:shall I do it sexier? How much sex do you want? 8/10 sex?

Alex: you sound like Rachel

*They do a massive exaggerated turn to the screen*

Greg: I overcooked that one

They repeat the shakespeare bit 2 or 3 times. Greg says every time he's asked to do it again he'll ham it up more.

Alex: I'm really hungry, are you really hungry?

They did some extra "taskmaster the live experience" advertisment filming

Greg notices a really big man in the audience and asks him how tall he is (6'5") and then gets very distracted by his "brethren" and repeatedly flubs his lines

Greg: What are you doing?

Greg: Look at me you grubby little ferret

[This was repeated about 5 times because Greg kept fucking up, and then when he got through it Alex immediately fucked up the next line]

Greg said we were the best audience so far (he also said he wasnt lying or exaggerating. If anyone else has been to one, does he say this to evey audience?)

Got let out at 5pm

[Extra things that I can't remember when they happened]

Alex: When we watch telly together

Greg: ... Because we are actually lovers *puts hand on alex*

Greg: Or so some corners of the internet would have you believe

During breaks, makeup people come in and remove the lint from Greg and Alex's jackets, Alex gets a sticky roller, Greg gets a little brush

They dab Greg's head as well

Greg: I like making people on the internet angry

Overall a delightful day out, 10/10 experience, would recommend!

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

rose & the humans

(a rant about the fandom, by a bisexual woman who relates to rose)

we all know that rose is a complex character, and some people in the fandom have an issue with that. her pain & trauma is overlooked all while she’s oversimplified by many fans as being either a villain or a completely perfect, happy being.

on some platforms, it gets even worse.

“i like the way human beings play, i like playing along.” — rose, we need to talk

for many steven universe fans, i’ve noticed the immediate interpretation is that rose enjoyed sexual relationships with humans. there’s all kinds of jokes about it, yet there’s actually so much more to that line. unfortunately, people like to sexualize rose’s character before they even attempt to empathize with her.

before greg, rose mainly knew how to connect with gems. gem relationships are different from human relationships; they don’t use the same labels & they don’t follow (nor do they understand) the rules & norms of human relationships. that’s why pearl was okay with rose’s previous human connections. these relationships were shallow, and since there were no labels, pearl + rose could both easily see that their relationship was the most important.

greg was different. so different that amethyst & garnet would talk about how nice he was. he was amethyst’s favourite human. his connection with rose was different, too. & some fans love to mention that, before greg, rose disrespected humans and viewed them as fascinating. however, there’s two sides to this. as a gem, rose was likely a mere fascination to humans too. maybe, some of these humans acted much like the ones in the fandom. sexualizing her before even attempting to understand her.

if greg’s call for mutual respect & his effort to connect was so new to her, it suggests that humans in the past never respected her much, either. it’s frightening to think about. she doesn’t know much about humans, so they could easily be disrespectful without her knowing. she thinks everyone is better than her & has low self esteem, struggling to believe that she deserves someone like pearl, who knows about her past & insecurities & the things she’s ashamed of yet gives her such intense affection & care. even if she did feel discomfort around some humans, she would likely blame herself or assume that it’s the treatment she deserves. even the fact that they didn’t care to get to know her is “a good thing” in rose’s opinion, as she tells greg in this very episode that she’s glad he doesn’t know much about her.

“is this… not how this works?” — rose, we need to talk

some fans claim rose "played" with humans before greg. “everything was a game to her.” because they’re so focused on sexualizing & oversimplifying her character, they miss the vulnerability of that line. playing along. as a gem, rose was incredibly naive. for example, in the 90s, she admitted that it took her awhile to figure out that human babies were the same species as human adults.

on another platform, i’ve noticed more discussions (and, of course, ridiculous jokes) about how she got pregnant instead of why she chose to give up her physical form. while the relationship she had with a man throughout her last four years was undoubtedly important, sometimes it gets validated more than anything else. some even imply that she couldn’t love & she had no redeeming qualities until she met him.

it’s just like the way the fandom treats pearl, claiming that her character development is merely about “getting over rose.” they claim that rose’s redeeming qualities are all from greg “changing her.” they’re complex characters who are so much more than their relationships.

they also don’t want to understand her character. sugar said in end of an era that rose revered others, thinking they were better than her. as a diamond, she hated the salute. when pearl chose to live with rose & make her happy, this meant the world to her. fusing with pearl also meant so much to her, as this was an equal connection. she fell for her & trusted her only after pearl became her true self; opinionated, someone who argued with her. this was the type of connection that she wanted, reciprocating her love for the people she was close to, romantically & platonically. when pearl took her hand, she would interlace their fingers. when she connected with people in any way, she adored them and would treat them like they treated her, assuming that was what they wanted. it’s what worked in the very first connection she made… although their connection was always unlike any other, hence why pearl was alright with rose forming other connections. they also felt the same way about each other. some people are different & their intentions are more confusing. it was easier to just assume humans were treating her as they wanted to be treated.

being abused, isolated, & feeling out of place in her early years, as well as dealing with the pressure of being the leader of the rebellion, made all social interactions difficult. she managed to live comfortably with the crystal gems for thousands of years, and she was able to connect with each of them for different reasons. even then, things weren’t always perfect. she struggled with communication & vulnerability & dishonesty & insecurity & codependency. very common for people who have felt unsafe in their early years. nevertheless, these connections were healing and meaningful to her.

connecting with new people, let alone humans? of course that would be difficult.

some fans sexualize the things she says so that they can’t see her perspective when it comes to issues in relationships. they validate her four year long relationship with a human man and then proceed to invalidate everything else. her trauma, her pain, her feelings, her other relationships.

& of course, he changed her life. he taught her so much about the world she loved. as a bisexual woman who unfortunately has a reddit account, i just find it interesting that people will go so far as to claim that greg was the only person who truly loved rose or had a meaningful connection with her, while her sapphic relationship—one that lasted thousands of years—gets ignored or dismissed as bad. i’ve seen people claim rose is straight, often accompanied by insults toward pearl, calling her “pathetic” or worse. pearl’s love for rose is frequently dismissed as “a weird obsession,” with words like infatuation & devotion used more often than the word love. fans will focus particularly on rose enjoying intimate relationships with human men, despite the thousands of years of romantic & implied sexual attraction between her and pearl.

many people refer to rose as greg’s wife, and not in a shipping sort of way, but because they genuinely believe that they were married. there’s so many arguments about this, all while there’s many people who believe that rose never had any feelings for pearl & they never had a relationship.

interesting, right? it implies that rose knew so much more about humanity & that her relationship with this human completely followed the norms of human relationships. it invalidates her other relationship that lasted for thousands of years, despite the fact that pearl + rose is canonically requited, confirmed by creators & incredibly evident, while rose + greg is canonically unmarried, confirmed in gem harvest.

what’s also troubling is the reluctance to acknowledge greg’s flaws or the complexities in his relationship with rose, while pearl’s flaws & her issues with rose are focused on (and for my lovely mutuals who love greg & his relationship, please know that this is not hate, i’ve explained a bit more about my opinion here). when pearl shows traits that resemble a stereotypical pearl from homeworld, she’s labeled a weak follower. when she shows strong emotions, she’s labeled as bad. when she’s expressive & opinionated, the significant growth she underwent to be able to openly express these aspects of her personality often go unnoticed.

when pearl’s relationship with rose seems too difficult for people to analyze, they dismiss it with the word “programming,” failing to grasp pearl’s character development and growth.

it’s interesting how sapphic characters receive so little empathy, while the flaws of male characters are often ignored, praised, or turned into ridiculous jokes on social media.

it’s not just him—there’s the mention of the “men that would come into her life now and again,” as pearl describes in mr. greg. people heard this line & took the chance to call rose disrespectful names, claiming she “kissed everyone.” they didn’t consider rose from a gem perspective & her knowledge about humans, or how rose is in awe of human decency, she had low self esteem & a belief that she didn’t deserve genuine love.

i think this is why we get so frustrated by those jokes about pearl “fumbling” a “bbw.” it sums everything up. rose getting sexualized all while multiple aspects of her character are misunderstood, overlooked, and invalidated.

[beansprean]

Familiar interviews continue...

My Familiar’s Ghost part 82

Masterpost Masterpost 2

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(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Upholstered chair on a mottled brown background. Sitting on it is a tall thin white man with short blond hair and a goatee, wearing a light blue leopard print suit over a white vee neck with white heeled boots and a chunky pinkie ring. He is lounging confidently, legs crossed, one hand poised up in the air as he says smugly, 'I graduated top of my class at New York Familiar College.'

2a. Reverse shot, waist up of Nandor and Guillermo sitting on the couch opposite. Nandor brightens and replies, 'Really? That is very impressive...' Guillermo glares at the applicant suspiciously, arms crossed and finger tapping rapidly. 2b. Reverse shot of the man on the chair as a stream of water sprays in from offscreen and hits him in the cheek. It burns and steams where it hits his skin and the man shrieks, rocking back and pulling his legs up from the floor in shock. His disguise immediately poofs away to reveal none other than... Simon The Devious! 2c. Reverse shot, full body, of Nandor sitting at one end of the couch, clipboard in his lap, as Simon rushes past and out the door, hissing and smoking. Guillermo has leapt up from his seat and is posed with feet shoulder width apart, holding a spray bottle in both hands like a pistol and pointing it at Simon's retreating back. He shouts after him, 'Get out of here, Simon! You're not welcome!' Nandor shrinks back against the couch to stay out of the line of fire.

3. Back on the chair, now featuring Sean, who is hoisting himself out of it by the armrests with a confused expression. He mutters, 'I was just, uh... lookin' for the bathroom...'

4. Reverse shot waist up of Nandor and Guillermo on the couch. Guillermo is slumped in fatigue, eyes closed, briefly removing his glasses as he groans, 'You live next door, Sean...' Nandor cups his hand around his mouth and turns toward the hall, calling out, 'Laszlo! Come collect your friend, please!'

5. Close up of Guillermo's clipboard, which has a few handwritten pages clamped onto it. The top page is divided in half by a line of ink, the left side labeled 'Applicant' and the right side labeled 'Recommended by'. Every line has been crossed out in red ink. The list of prospective familiars includes: Clara Tran, John Merkt (recommended by Nancy the Relentless), Farrah Baker, Sarah Colleton-Hampstead (recommended by Pamela), Kayvan Novak (recommended by Nancy the Relentless), Sky Velasquez, Marshall Vu (recommended by Elvis), Devon Simmons II (recommended by ???) scribbled out more than the others, Katie Blum (recommended by Greg Blum), and Muhammad S- before the panel cuts off. From offscreen, Nandor calls out, 'Thank you for your time; we will be in touch. Please do not get eaten on the way out. Next!'

6. Back to the chair, this time with Sam the cat sitting in it and letting out a polite mew. From off screen, Guillermo says, 'Well, that's disappointing to hear, Sam.'

7. Reverse shot, full body of Nandor and Guillermo on the couch as Sam walks toward the door, tail held high. Nandor is slumped toward the center of the couch, head propped up on his hand and clipboard abandoned at his side. Guillermo, clipboard in hand, waves after Sam with an awkward smile and says, 'Good luck at your new position! And let us know if anything changes?' Sam meows in reply. /End ID

[balteredsworld]

turning point. gregory house

🥼🩺 | you and house despise each other. today's supposed to be any other night, but house kisses you.

warnings/tags! light enemies-to-lovers, angst if you squint your eyes, younger woman x older man, emotional revelations, no dialogue, and they kiss!

masterlist : greg house n all

a/n: i can't believe people are sending in things in my inbox wow if you have any requests/ideas or little topics of conversations don't shy away and send them my way! enjoy ducklings <3

house reaches for your wrist, taking you into his grasp, and pulling you flush against his body. you jolt at the sudden motion, left hand landing and pressing on his chest. sure eyes linger on your face for a fraction of a second. beauty eclipsing any and all thought working the cogs in his busy mind. all he thinks to himself is how breathtaking you are in this moment.

many a time the two of you would rather bicker, almost estranged in your sidings with cuddy. but you were legally bound by contract to side with her, serving as a board member this year.

tonight’s no different, you’re here because of house’s opposition to a hospital policy you and the board proposed. he’s been on a childish campaign to get you to concede to his wishes, after all he does whatever he wants in the hospital. but he makes a deductive confession that changes the tune of your usual argument. and tonight’s a little different, with it being the annual gala.

you wear this burgundy dress off some runway that he makes note of, and he’s in his well-pressed, well-tailored suit. you came here to declare a truce, but instead you let house press your buttons, somehow finding yourself ending the argument against his chest.

house’s hand snakes its way to the nook of your back. then, his lips were latched onto yours. he's kissing you.

gregory house is kissing you.

your tense body melts into his touch, reciprocating the kiss despite your initial surprise. you loop an arm around his neck, pushing him closer to you, causing the two of you to wobble, but he steadies your weight and deepens the kiss.

it’s sweet, passionate, and almost desparate, as if this was years of yearning. but you’re not so illusioned that you mistake this as something other than all your anger and hostility towards each other finally being squeeze out by the force of your locked lips—into this kiss.

it’s a kiss the two of you unknowingly wanted, hidden underneath the veneer of your harsh and clashing words. you’re not afraid to argue with house, equally venomous with your tongue during your time as a defence lawyer. and house is the same, sharpened tongue to prove his correctness in principle.

but you two fear that you’ve exposed yourselves to the possibility of tragedy. maybe it's because you two have been really eyeing each other all along, testing how you could handle each other. never once have you failed, nor has house. that scared you shitless, but the moment’s well worth it. house makes good work with his lips, and you float in some sort of heaven, feeling the frustration finally rupture. and he feels the same.

slowly, you both pull away from each other, breathless and flushed. you don’t pull away immediately, staying interlocked in his grasp. your eyes are both down cast, not quite refusing to look at the other, but rather frozen and unsure where to look. despite it, house’s eyes radiate blue.

it’s too intimate for you and house, and yet you keep still. he’s kept to himself all these years, only to have you cut into his bubble between the hookers he distracts himself with. he thinks that’s where his resentment of you stems from, but it’s never really been quite hatred, he realizes. you’re the same, lonelier than you would like to admit. no one, so it seemed, could tug on your heartstrings except this man you found nothing but annoyance for.

house is perplexed. his mouth is agape, nothing quite registering to allow his neurons to fire and form words. something of his old self manifests, and a warm feeling feathers his heart. a touch like this was no stranger to that ghost, but all the other flirtations he makes falls in comparison. there’s only you and him

his sense are faint yet heightened, just from his proximity to you. biologically speaking, he’s doing really well, and he can hear his pulse pounding, and feel yours mirror his. he’s forgotten what this feels like, but sure it was this, and that makes his heart race faster. it’s almost dizzying.

house continues to direct his eyes on your curled hair, unsure of how to look at you. he considers leaving without another word, but he feels stuck to you.

you mirror house, too dazed to do anything. an overwhelming euphoria shoots through you, the sort of nervous excitement that makes you feel like a teenager. you’re younger than house, and you bite your cheek like you were 17 with your crush. you’re all too aware of your inexperience now, unsure with your wild heart. nevertheless, you muster the courage to finally break your trance. so you push on his chest lightly, finally meeting his eyes.

you blink. he’s tall.

the realization makes you swallow nervously. you open your mouth, but like house, nothing quite comes out. your hand still rests on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his pulsing heart. you try again, this time with house. both of your lips fall open, tongue failing again. but his eyes are enough. all you want to do is kiss him, so you lean in and kiss him again.

luckily for you, house always wants to kiss you.

[iwritefandomimagines]

KISS AND TELL — ROBERT CHASE

masterlist

pairing: robert chase x reader

description: after endless mutual pining, you and chase finally hooked up over the weekend. you agreed to keep it a secret while you figured things out, but it doesn’t last long with the team around.

warnings: swearing, possibly a tiny bit ooc while i’m trying to figure out how i write the house characters, nothing else really. just the team teasing you both and a lil kissing in a closet

author’s note: am a sucker for house atm so pleaaase keep house related requests coming 🫶

“Mm,” you hummed against Chase’s lips as you pushed his chest gently away across the front seats of his car, “Taking things slow, huh?”

He smiled guiltily, pulling the keys from the ignition as he pulled away from you and pocketed them, “A little kiss is hardly rushing things after the weekend we’ve had, don’t you think?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes.

You’d been (badly) concealing feelings for Chase for almost as long as you had been working in close proximity to him.

Everyone else was more than aware of it, but it had taken a drunken dinner to finally ease confessions from you both.

It was supposed to be a friendly dinner to round off a really stressful week.

But a few bottles of wine had stripped away your inhibitions and you’d made it more than clear that hiding your attraction to him had been an almost impossible task.

He’d confirmed his reciprocation with a quick, dazed kiss, and before you knew it you were staying at his house and wouldn’t be leaving until almost 48 hours later when you made a quick stop at home for a change of clothes before work.

Okay — taking things slow had been your idea, but even you knew it wasn’t going to work. Not when you’d felt the way you felt for so long, and especially not after all that had gone down that weekend.

Truth be told you were dizzy with how he made you feel, and as much as you wanted to keep scolding him for the PDA (well, hidden away in his car), the feeling of his lips on yours was one you wouldn’t get sick of.

“I guess you’re right,” you bit your lip, beginning to gather your things to head into the hospital for another long week, “But we have to keep this from them all, at least for now. I’m in no mood for House’s ‘I told you so’s today.”

“Gotcha.”

And so you entered separately, pretending to have arrived conveniently at the same time but not together.

Unbeknownst to you, Foreman had seen you get out of the car — and though he didn’t see you kiss, his suspicions got the better of him anyway.

So when Chase entered House’s office as was customary of a morning of late, Foreman followed close behind with a smug smirk on his face.

“You and Y/N, huh? Finally,” he teased, arms folded over his chest as he watched the panic flush Chase’s features, “I saw her get out of your car with you.”

“I—We— I didn’t think anyone saw us,” he replied, flustered, and House’s head snapped up from the crossword he was busying himself with to join in with the teasing, “You finally made a move, then?”

Chase’s head fell back in dismay.

Not only had he promised you not to tell them, but he was going to have to endure their teasing all fucking day about it.

What he should’ve done was say your car had broken down and he’d offered you a lift. Shit. Why didn’t he just say that?

Now he watched you approach the door to the office with a bright smile on your face and had to deal with knowing that it would soon be wiped away by your stupid friends because of his stupid mistake.

“Good morning, Y/N,” House smiled, and your eyes narrowed at the unusually cheery tone gracing his words, but you matched it anyway, “Morning Greg!”

“Wow, someone woke up on the right side of Chase’s bed this morning,” Foreman snickered, and immediately your eyes snapped to a panic stricken Chase as his eyes flickered between you and Foreman repeatedly.

You drew in a sharp breath, contemplating how best to express your irritation without completely losing your cool.

You weren’t embarrassed by everyone finding out, but you really didn’t want their teasing comments and constant watchful gazes to ruin the early stages of a relationship you’d been pining for for what felt like forever.

“What did you tell them?”

Posing the question to Chase that way meant you weren’t confirming anything, and he seemed to understand your angle as he gulped and scratched his head.

“Nothing— they assumed because Foreman saw you get out of my car that there must be something going on,” he rambled, and you rolled your eyes.

“And, if I recall correctly, your reply was that you didn’t think anyone saw you,” House quipped, “Which is hardly a denial, lovebirds.”

You scoffed, “Can friends not give each other a ride to work without it meaning they’re fucking?”

You saw Chase’s face flush crimson at your choice language, knowing it was far more than that.

“Hold on, nobody said you were just fucking,” House corrected you matter-of-factly, “You two are always staring at each other all gooey-eyed and it’s frankly revolting. But at least you’ve acted on it, finally.”

“You’re not gonna let this go until we admit it, are you?” you sighed, defeated.

Neither House nor Foreman said a word in response to that, instead choosing to silently smirk at you both.

“Fine,” you gave in, sauntering to Chase’s side, “We are seeing how things go. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I’d argue that it is,” House’s lips were pressed together in a thin line as he paused for a moment, “But at least I’ve made a lot of money out of this.”

You rolled your eyes at him, glancing over at Foreman who was pulling money from his wallet from their apparent bet about how soon you and Chase would cave and admit your feelings.

“You guys are insufferable, you know that?” you huffed, half-joking, “If anything you make me want us to be more in your face about it.”

“Oh please, don’t pretend you want to shove excess PDA in our faces to annoy us,” Cameron laughed, hand on her hip as she smiled at you. She was genuinely happy for you, if not frustrated you hadn’t told her, “We all see the way you look at each other. You’ve wanted to eat each other’s faces since you transferred here, Y/N.”

You scoffed, “God, was it that obvious?”

You looked over at Chase now, and watched him ogle at you with his puppy-dog eyes.

Maybe they were right, maybe it had always been this obvious.

“I’m going to go get us some coffees, alright?” you glanced around the room with piercing eyes, “And when I get back, you are all going to go back to pretending none of what has happened this morning happened.”

“I’ll come with you!” Chase flew back to your side as you left the room, and you heard the team mumbling about you both as he did so.

You nudged his shoulder as you left, “I can’t believe you, Chase!”

“Hey, they didn’t give me a choice,” he pouted, but he was sure all the stress of pissing you off melted away entirely at the sound of your sweet laughter, “But—,”

He tugged you into a storage cupboard just shy of House’s office, “I’m kind of glad they know. I know I still can’t kiss you at work and stuff but, it’s relieving not hiding it from them now.”

“Now? We didn’t even have five minutes of hiding it anyway,” you giggled, enjoying the close proximity to him again, “C’mon, as much as I’d like to hide away in here with you all day, we do have work to do.”

His lips found yours quickly, and your hands tangled in his hair in a moment of weakness as you leaned into the kiss.

“Sorry, had to indulge myself once,” he sing-songed as he pulled away, opening the door and shuffling out, “Back to work, Dr. Y/L/N. Well, back to the coffee run.”

You giggled as you followed him out, checking that nobody was around to see you slip out of a closet together for god’s sake.

Unluckily for you, Wilson rounded the corner towards House’s office just in time to catch you staring doe-eyed at each other as you began to head down to get the team their coffees.

A smirk spread across his face, soon replaced with a scowl as he leaned into House’s office, “You’ll never guess who I just saw together.”

House shrugged, “Sadly, Sherlock Holmes, I can. And I’ll take the 50 bucks you owe me now.”

———

i hope this was okay !!! let me know if you enjoyed please because feedback motivates me massively!

if you have any requests please go ahead, and in the meantime here is my masterlist!

[kingofpopmj]

Can’t Go On Without You By My Side

Summary: You visit your boyfriend of two years on his BAD world tour. The excitement of witnessing him perform live is quickly tainted the moment she walks in.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Requested: no

*Y/N's POV*

Michael and I were finally able to plan for me to visit him on tour. I was lucky enough to get a week and a half off of work and we were determined to make the most of it. Michael had insisted on picking me up from the airport even though he was technically supposed to be at the venue. We arrived about ten minutes after the show was scheduled to begin, but thankfully, no one called us out on it.

I stood off to the side, watching Michael completely own the stage. The way he mastered his onstage persona was breathtaking. His smile was so bright. I took a moment to discreetly admire his outfit, clinging to his body tighter with each passing song.

“He’s sexy, isn’t he?” A breathy voice sounded from beside me, interrupting my silent gawking. I guess I wasn't being as discreet as I thought.

“Um—” I looked to my left, making eye contact with a very tall woman. She was beautiful. A tight black dress clung to her body so tight it almost looked painted on. I know exactly who this is.

“The correct answer is yes. He can do it all, if you know what I mean.” My hands clenched into fists with such force I could feel my rings digging into my skin. “He’s absolutely the sexiest man alive. I’m so exhausted, he kept me up all night this past week. That's not a complaint by the way. He is so worth it.”

I couldn’t put together enough words to form a complete sentence. Quite frankly, all my focus was on holding myself back. I couldn’t catch a case right now. Michael might be cheating on me and this woman is certainly a whore. That was that. I couldn’t change fact. If I went off and beat the living shit out of some groupie it would ruin the rest of my life. I couldn’t let the anger control my behavior. He betrayed me, but I refuse to let him see how much it really broke me.

“I’m so sorry, I get all misty watching him. Don’t we all?” She laughed, squeezing my shoulder, little did she know she was dangerously close to losing those boney little fingers. “My name is Tatiana, and you are?” She held out her hand, batting her eyelashes so hard I thought she’d fly away. At least I hoped she would. Maybe over a large body of water, perhaps shark infested waters.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” She let out an exaggerated gasp, slapping her palm against her mouth.

“You’re the girlfriend! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” She quickly ran off leaving me standing there alone with this feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t describe.

I glanced around the immediate area, seeing no one else near me felt worse somehow. I don't know many people here other than Michael. I became distracted as he sang Rock With You, little did he know he was moments away from getting rocked. Y/N, no, stop. I release the tension in my hands, shaking it off, trying to let go of the violent thoughts swirling in my mind. Besides how therapeutic it was right now, it wasn’t productive. I need some air, a drink, a hitman? No. Air, I need air.

The clicks of my heels echoed through the halls as I headed towards an unknown destination. I'm probably lost, but that’s a problem for future Y/N.

*Michael's POV*

As Rock With You came to an end, I noticed Y/N disappear behind the curtain. Exactly, two songs have gone by since then and still no sign of her. During the brief outfit change after Thriller, before intermission, I notice Greg, my music director mouthing something to me.

"What?" I mouthed back, scratching my forehead. He's terrible at this.

"Your girl." Okay, I got that. I nodded, shrugging slightly as if to say and what about her.

"Mad."

I couldn’t play charades any longer, as the lights dimmed and the band took over the stage I snuck behind the large equipment to get closer to him.

"What happened?"

"I saw Tatiana talking to her. She did not look too happy after that brother."

I nodded slowly, processing his words before walking off. I should be taking advantage of my break, but I couldn’t relax not knowing where my girlfriend was.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. What are you doing all the way back here?”

"Nothing I just needed some air." She said lowly, avoiding my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I moved towards her, cupping her face in my hands. The look in her eyes answering my question, but I wanted to hear it from her.

"Yeah, well, no, but it can wait until after the show."

"Are you sure?" I asked and she nodded in response. "Now, can you please come back with me? I perform better knowing my beautiful woman is watching me."

She accompanied me as I changed into my next outfit. She helped me slip into my coat, but my excitement was short lived, because I could sense her sadness. What is going on?

"I love you, baby." I watched closely as she struggled with her response, she began biting on her bottom lip, her eyes growing glossy. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Her voice cracked and she quickly turned away from me.

"I know you Y/N. You're hurting and I'd like to know what's going on so I can help."

"S—She—" Y/N broke down right, her body was shivering as she tried to compose herself. I felt less than helpless.

"Who?" I tried comforting her, but she brushed me off, moving away from me all together.

A quick knock on the door, signaling that intermission was coming to a close and I needed to get back out there.

"I'll let them know I need more time. I'll be right back."

"No!"

"You're crying. Y/N, baby, I'm not leaving you."

"I'm alright. Please, can we just talk about this later?"

I didn't want to agree, but she wasn't asking, she was practically begging. I intertwined our fingers, keeping her close as I weaved my way through the backstage area.

"Please, stand here and watch the rest of the show. It would mean the world to me." I smiled at her and kissed her temple as I hugged her.

"I'll be right here." She reaffirmed my confidence. Then, she grabbed my collar, pulling me into her lips. Her tongue was pure magic. Normally, I'd be embarrassed about public affection, but with the way I'm feeling, I'd love to feel every inch of her right here, right now. I didn't care who was watching.

She pulled away and I desperately chased her lips as she giggled at my neediness.

"You have to go."

"There is no way I'm leaving your side after that."

"You don't have a choice."

"I will be back. Very, very soon."

*Y/N's POV*

I watched the second half of Michael's concert the way I should've watched the first half. I enjoyed myself dancing and singing along to my man's voice. What Tatiana said hurt me, but I felt so foolish when I thought logically again. Michael isn't that type of person. I didn't need to talk to him about this, because once the anger and hurt wore off I was able to come to a conclusion on my own. She's lying. She has to be.

"You're still here?" This damn witch. "I'd be halfway home by now if I found out my boyfriend stepped out on me."

There was so much I wanted to say, but I chose to let her words go in one ear and out the other. The last thing I want to do is let her know she ever got to me.

"Well, that's my cue. Enjoy the show." She winked, walking pass me and flipping her hair.

I was forced to watch as Tatiana strutted across the stage with my boyfriend chasing after her. This was one of my favorite songs and now I couldn’t even enjoy it. I felt my blood begin to boil as she shamelessly flirted with him in front of the crowd of thousands.

She was getting closer and closer to him. She was doing this on purpose and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Why is this song so long all of the sudden?

"What the hell is she doing?" I heard Frank DiLeo grumble from behind me. I jumped a bit at his tone, but tried to play it off.

"Everything okay?" I asked softy.

"Hey darling, yeah she was supposed— what the hell! Get her off the damn stage! Now!"

I turned my attention back to the stage and I wished more than anything I wouldn’t have done that. I tried to blink as if that would change the view, but it didn’t.

I was stuck in that horrible moment as the worst thing I could imagine was confirmed. I had a front row seat to my own humiliation and I had no idea how to escape.

Before I knew it, she was walking towards me. "So happy you could be here to see what a real power couple looks like." She stopped in front of me, crossing her arms. "Sorry honey, he's moved on to bigger and better things."

I felt my cheeks heat up as I became uncomfortably aware of how many eyes were on us.

"Tatiana, that's enough. Get away from her." Frank shouted, shooing her away like a toddler.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

We stood in silence as Man in the Mirror blasted through the speakers. It wasn't until Michael's long passionate goodbye to his fans, wrapping up the concert that Frank slung his arm around my shoulder.

"Darling, you know she's full of it right?"

"I'm not sure."

"Michael and I have to take care of some business. I won't keep him too long and I'll send him your way after."

I knew that was his way of telling me it was private business that I couldn’t be around for. I hugged him before heading off, I wasn't really sure where I was going, but walking felt better than sitting with my thoughts.

"Baby! I'm so sorry. Frank told me what happened after—"

“I need to get out of here before I do something I regret.” Michael reached out, taking a firm hold of my hand, he pulled me down a short hallway and into his dressing room.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He finally spoke, shutting the door behind him.

“You’re sorry I had to see it?”

“Yes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Y/N—”

“Does that mean you do it often?”

“No, that’s not—”

“You go around kissing other people when I’m not around?”

“Y/N, I’ve never—”

“I know they’re everywhere, throwing themselves at you, but I never thought you let them get to you.”

“Stop!”

“What!”

“I’ve never cheated on you!” He shouted in a tone I had never heard before, the look of pain present in his eyes. Shit.

“That’s not what people are saying.” I muttered, suddenly I felt so guilty.

“People? What people?”

“Who do you think! She said you two—”

“That’s a lie! I only see her during performances. That’s it. Y/N, I would never do that to you.”

“How am I supposed to believe you after that? She kissed you and you let her.”

“No, no, no! I didn’t let her! I wasn’t even paying attention to her. When I’m on stage, I’m there to perform. Why would I spend weeks planning for your visit just to betray you?”

“She was so awful to me, the things she said, then, she went out there and—”

“Got herself fired.”

“Michael, I’m pissed, but I’ll get over it. I don’t want this to affect business. You don’t have to fire her.”

“I already did.”

“Michael—”

“I only want to work with people who respect me and my loved ones. She won’t be missed. I don’t care to have people around me that I can’t trust.”

“I’m sorry I yelled. I’m so sorry I accused you of—” Michael shut me up, gripping my hips, pressing my body against his and kissing me sloppily. His hand claiming a possessive hold of the back of my neck, deepening his touch.

"I love you." he spoke into my mouth, his hot breath sent shivers down my spine. I felt myself tremble as his fingers explored my inner thigh, pushing up my skirt to give himself more access.

"I love you." I said, slipping my fingers around his belt buckle. He smiled knowingly, pushing me back, my ass collided with the counter and I felt myself crumble at his roughness. The cold countertop causing me to let out a moan. He pulled away for a moment, reaching behind me and clearing off the counter in one swift movement. "Such a gentleman." I purred in his ear as he picked me up.

"Only for you." A smirk on his face as the sound of nylon tearing filled my ears. "I love how sexy these look on you. I'll have to replace them." His long fingers slipping pass the freshly shredded fabric of my panties and teasing me one finger at a time. He watched as my head leaned back onto the mirrored wall, he chuckled as I struggled to find something to grab onto.

"Michael!" I was fighting to breath feeling him knuckle deep inside of me, hitting the right spot. "Fuck! Deeper!" I begged for more. Contrary to my needy cries, he pulled back, leaving me feeling empty as he unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall to the ground. I took this opportunity to tear his shirt off, throwing it across the room.

Michael pushed my legs apart, admiring how much I yearned for him, he slowly pulled me towards him with a strong grip on my legs. My bare ass slide across the counter painfully slow until I finally felt his hard tip press against my entrance.

"Always so wet and ready for me." He slammed into me, giving me no time to adjust which threw me further over the edge.

"Harder!" I yelled as he pounded into me with such intensity I swear I could feel him rearranging my guts.

"Baby, I want to cum inside of you." His voice smooth, making me even more wet.

"Please!" The walls were shaking as we continued to devour one another.

"You're fucking perfect." He whispered against the bare skin of my chest, I felt him everywhere. My eyes rolled back as his dick massaged all the right places.

Suddenly, the door swung open violently, causing me to panic and try to cover my exposed chest, but Michael stopped me. He grabbed my wrists trapping them behind my back in on of his hands as he increased his speed again. My moans escaped my throat against my will as tears of pleasure rolled down my cheeks. At this point, my entire body was shaking, Michael's tongue rolling against mine elongating my high further.

"What the fuck are you doing!" A voice shouted, causing my head to snap in the direction of its origin. Tatiana.

"You feel so good wrapped around my dick." He declared as he sucked on my neck. It was impossible to concentrate on anything else but his lips. "I'll never get tired of fucking this perfect pussy." Michael didn’t stop. He spoke clearly and confidently as he fucked me with purpose.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Tatiana yelled.

"Y/N!" Michael whimpered, his seed spreading within me, causing my legs to tingle. He gazed deep into my eyes, beads of sweat trailing down his face. "I fucking love you." His hand gently curled around the side of my neck, pulling me back into his sweet mouth.

"What the fuck!" Another shout from the demon herself. I paid it no mind. Looking back at Michael, his long dick still twitching inside of me.

"I love you baby." I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck, leaning into his neck to leave my mark. Tatiana stood there staring at us in shock, so naturally I challenged her stare. I waited to see if Michael would break focus, but he didn’t.

“We are busy in here. Close the door on your way out.” Michael said sternly between breaths, not even sparing her a glance.

The door slammed shut seconds later and it was only then that I took the time to look around the dimly lit room. Make-up and personal belongings littered the floor. Various unfamiliar items surrounded us, leading me to believe that I was made apart of one very well thought out, very devious plan and it turned me on.

"Michael?"

"Yes, my love?"

“This isn’t your dressing room, is it?”

“Nope.” He smiled triumphantly, planting tender kisses all over my face.

“You’re so sneaky.”

“You’re my girl. That’s never changing.”

“You quite literally marked your territory.” I giggled as he caressed my collarbone, watching as goosebumps formed.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, I’m just getting started. We’re gonna be here all night.”

“Let’s see what you got rockstar.”

“Baby, don’t make me carry you out on that stage and give those lovely people an encore they’ll never forget.”

“A girl can dream can’t she?”

I winked teasingly as I positioned myself onto my knees, looking up at the man I love, confident I was about to give him the best head of his life.

[gean-grey-blog]

It's fucking fascinating to me to watch the House fandom have this flood of new people who immediately look at him and go "this bitch is autistic AF"

Greg House is definitely written autistic, but it was 2006 and our cultural image of autism was only people like the kid in Lines in the Sand. The show, especially that episode, was in direct conversation with the development of cultural awareness of high masking autism. They didn't say he was autistic because people like him didn't know they were yet.

The fandom at the time was full of autistics, myself among them, who had not yet been diagnosed, but connected with this character in such an intrinsic way for _some reason_

It's actually insanely cool to see the change in understanding in those intervening years

[secondhand-snow]

a body of impulses

chapter 4: staining the future

lukas matsson x f!roy reader (succession)

★chapter 3★

wc: 8.6k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, roman roy as his own warning, mention of phone sex, manipulation, praise, no use of y/n

summary: The fall back to the real world after your time spent with Lukas hits you hard. But your family hits you harder, and they hit to kill.

author's note: snow writes a fic without graphic smut?!? insanity. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

Logan’s birthday is… Logan’s birthday. The day is always celebratory, and always ends in trouble. Chaos tends to be inevitable when your family is together, like two comets on a collision course, helpless to stop the impending crash. Even intimate get-togethers are no exception. You were fully prepared for this, readying your mediating skills and considering any possible issues that could come up at the event. Until, your siblings inform you that they will not be attending. On one hand, it’s a shock. Missing something as important as your father’s birthday because of a fight seems unreasonable, especially when you were so sure you would see them in person again. On the other hand, the lack of their presences could avoid the conflict you were expecting. Either way, your focus shifted from getting ready to stop blow out fights to preparing to answer nosy questions on the whereabouts of your family. 

It was nice to talk to your siblings after weeks of no contact. The discussions you had were usually meager, straight and to the point. But all the same, it gave you some sense of normalcy in your vastly changing life. That and the less you spoke to them, the less you had to lie to them about what you were up to. Between Lukas and work, it felt like you could barely get out a sentence without potentially compromising an immense secret. You’d gotten uncomfortably close to disclosing your relationship a couple times, both with Roman, both due to your increasingly frequent trips to Sweden. Luckily, you’d been trained enough in keeping the peace to brush over the details of your life and get him to talk about himself, the suspicion leaving his mind almost instantly.

In addition to rekindling your relationship with your siblings, a strange sort of friendship was beginning to form between yourself and Tom. You were the only two in the immediate family that hadn’t jumped ship yet, well, besides Greg. Since he wasn’t really speaking to Shiv, and Roman and Kendall would rather die than see his face, you were the only one Tom could go to for a genuine conversation. Unless he wanted to talk to Gerri, Karl or Frank, but Tom preferred speaking to someone who wasn’t at least 20 years older than himself. Because of this, the two of you began bonding in a way you hadn’t had the chance to before. When Roman wasn’t making crass jokes over your shoulder, influencing your opinion with his humor, Tom wasn’t actually that bad. 

He was more down to Earth than your siblings. He had grown up rich, but not your kind of rich, and it gave him a sort of level headedness that you didn’t see often. His jokes were pretty funny, and his midwest accent gave his speech a natural formality that was strangely captivating. You liked talking to Tom, you even began to see him as a friend during the months after the GoJo deal began. Not only was he sociable, he was actually good at what he did. You’d always thought that he got his position through his relationship with Shiv, though when you began working with him on the GoJo deal you saw that his work ethic had a genuine quality to it. He could be a little brutal at times and looked out for himself before others, but who wasn’t in this business. By the time Logan’s party came up you found yourself honestly enjoying his company.

When you arrive at Logan’s penthouse, the party has already begun. There’s a good crowd of people mingling, mostly executives from Waystar’s corporate world and old business associates of your Dad’s. You’re happy to see Colin, who you greet with a friendly smile, and annoyed to see Kerry, who you give a tight lipped grin. Your dad is at least somewhat happy to see you, giving you the rare hug in welcome. 

Buying gifts for a man that has everything is incredibly difficult, and after the watch situation from last year, you were even more terrified of Logan’s reaction to your present. You had settled on purchasing him a Navy medal of honor from WWI to add to his collection and wrapped it weeks in advance, trying to push the worry from your mind for as long as possible. As he opens the present now, his reception is better than you hoped for. Your dad offers you a small thanks and notes that he will add it to one of his display cases later. Internally you doubt that he will, but at least he was kind to you publicly. With another quick hug and a promise to see him again in a bit, you enter the throng of people once more and begin looking for a drink.

It’s really only natural that you gravitate to Tom, joining his side with a glass of champagne as soon as you spot him in the mass of suits. He cracks a few jokes, makes a few comments on work, but mostly you just stand together and look engaged in conversation, successfully deterring any onlookers from bothering you to ask prying questions. You make frequent trips to the bathroom. Not to actually use the toilet, but to answer your messages from Lukas. It was too much of a chance to open his texts around others at the party, since so many of them knew him well. He knows your at Logan’s birthday, he even considered attending himself before getting too busy with work. His goofy texts brighten up the otherwise dull day, giving you something to look forward to and keeping you awake amongst the bland chatting you’re obligated to engage in.

It’s after one of these trips to the bathroom that the first sign of discord begins to creep into the party. It starts with Cousin Greg, who’s chattering incessantly in Tom’s ear as you approach the pair. 

“-I’m kidding, I really do like her.” You seamlessly attach yourself to the conversation as you join them, keeping pace as you begin to walk from room to room.

“Like who? The blonde teeny bopper you brought?” 

“Yeah!”

“What, did you meet her on Raya or something?” You get a small laugh from Tom at that, the three of you pausing your stroll for a moment.

“She’s used all the display towels in the bathroom and now they’re sopping wet, she’s gabbling about herself and posting on social media.” Greg scoffs a bit at Tom’s critique, looking around to be sure the blonde was nowhere nearby. “She’s asking people personal questions- and she’s wolfing all the canapes like a famished warthog!”

“People are overreacting, okay? She brought a normal kind of handbag!” 

“Greg, the massive purse is one thing. Posting pictures of the inside of my father’s house on Instagram is actually incredibly invasive. She’s basically a security risk at this point.”

“You are a laughing stock of polite society.” As Tom chimes in, the unmistakable face of Greg’s date begins to approach you, a look of concern on her face. Tom whispers as he finishes his comment. “You’ll never go to the opera again.”

“Maybe- we should go?” The woman’s voice has a twinge of vocal fry, her hand holding her phone protectively close to her body.

“Oh are you okay? What, uh, what happened?” Greg stoops from his normal towering stance to direct his quiet tone towards his date.

“Nothing! I just asked Logan for a selfie.” 

“You asked my dad for a selfie?” You can’t help the small laugh of disbelief that leaves your mouth at her confession.

“Yeah- oh! You’re- uh…” The woman is at least socially conscious enough to realize her mistake in not addressing you, an awkward smile coming to her face as she continues. “I said ‘Congrats on the big deal.’ I was like, ‘Ker-ching, am I right?’ I was being funny!”

“...That is hilarious.” 

It’s a little while later when things start to get worse. Logan had disappeared with Colin a couple of hours ago, and was now ignoring calls as his executives tried to contact him. Additionally, Kerry had come to you and asked you to talk to your siblings, to get them to text or call Dad for his birthday. You gave her the same strained response you’d had to repeat so many times in the past few months, “My siblings are capable of making their own decisions.” Despite this, you did text them to let them know of Kerry’s request. They left the message on read. It’s you who’s finally able to get through to Logan, letting him know that there was some trouble with the Pierce deal. He arrived back at the penthouse only a bit after you contacted him, immediately stopping the party and kicking out the crowd. 

And so, on a day that was supposed to be calm, work-free, and relaxing, you ended up gathered in Logan’s home office with the tension rising rapidly. It’s concerning how quickly the group is able to find out that it’s your siblings who are the rival bidders. It’s more concerning how upset Logan is when he finds out. He swears. More than usual. He yells at both you and Tom, telling the pair of you to call Shiv and tell her to get her own idea. To your credit, you do call her, but you go straight to voicemail. 

You’re helpless in the situation, in a sort of trance of dissociation as chaos unfolds around you. You barely even perk up during Logan’s “roasting” rampage, refusing to cause a spectacle for your dad’s amusement. Unfortunately, Greg doesn’t have the same foresight as you. What snaps you out of the haze is when Tom finally gets through to your sister. The two of you huddle around his iPhone in the corner of the room, trying to maintain some sense of privacy as speakerphone causes your conversation to echo around the office.

“Hey, Shiv” Tom’s is clearly stressed, an unnatural lilt in his voice as he speaks.

“Hi?”

“Hey. Tom!” So Kendall’s with her.

“Fuck you, man mountain!” And the voice of Roman solidifies your siblings' involvement in buying Pierce. An inaudible sigh leaves your mouth as the worst is confirmed.

“Hey, look, so… we were just wondering if we’re not being- uh, played a little here. Since this is all indicative.” 

“Okay, well, what did he go up to?” Shiv’s tone is simultaneously annoyed and eager.

“Well, we can’t tell you that.”

“He didn't go to nine, did he?” 

“Well, we were just wondering, you know, all things being equal, the asset does have a price. And it would be- it would be crazy to add an emotional… uh, premium here.” Tom is beginning to scramble, his demeanor becoming frantic as he searches for some kind of tactic to convince your siblings. “So, should we be looking for a back door on this?”

“What's Dad's ceiling?” Shiv asks the question like she already knows the answer. You wonder if she really does.

“Well, what's your ceiling?”

“Why don't you go first, Tommy? Build that trust, brah!” Kendall’s tone is surprisingly happy, like he’s high either on coke or on the thrill of bidding. 

“Well, his ceiling is-- is... Uh, well, I... Your dad is just–”

“It’s higher than yours, I can guarantee that.” You cut in for the first time, saving Tom from his own bumbling.

“Oh hi baby sister! Decided to join the rebellion yet?” Roman stretches out the nickname, whining in a way he knows you hate, trying to rile you up to their level.

“Do you even have the financing for this? Or are you pooling together all your lunch money just to piss off Dad?” Maybe it’s the fact that you’re over the phone, maybe it’s how stressed out this situation has you, but you find yourself bolder than normal. For once, you’re going head to head with your sibling’s wit without backing down.

“We’re not doing this just to piss off Dad.” Shiv deadpans, interjecting before Roman can get another word in.

“Right because you have such a genuine interest in a left leaning, family based news conglomerate that’s a direct competitor to ATN.” Your normally soft and regulated tone has a sharp edge to it, cutting through your family’s bullshit like butter. “What happened to the media company you were starting, you seemed so excited about that? The hundred, or something?”

“It’s still news and media, it's just-  just starting from nothing versus, like, starting from an already established network.” Kendall speaks next, you can hear his chair vaguely creaking as he sits forward to direct his voice into the phone.

“Well it’s not worth it, what you’d gain from buying Pierce is nothing compared to the damage you’d do from fucking this deal. You know that.” You take a breath before finishing your piece, voice softer as you attempt to appeal to your family’s empathy. “Right now, you can still come back from this. Things… aren’t too broken, yet. We can fix them. If you go through with this, I don’t know if that will still be true.”

There’s a long pause before Shiv speaks again. “Our ceiling is 12.”

“Fuck off!” Tom can’t contain his shock at the statement. You tilt your head back, shaking it in disbelief with your eyes on the ceiling. “Yeah, well, our’s too. Okay?”

“Okay!” 

There’s a familiar beep as the call ends. You don’t look at anyone’s faces as you reclaim your seat on the couch. You barely speak for the rest of the night. You don’t flinch when your siblings win Pierce, don’t look up when your dad screams at them through the phone, don’t say goodbye to anyone as you leave. Your resolve only crumbles in private.

That night, you call Lukas. He answers on the first ring, smiling into the camera as you greet him on Facetime. You can’t say much about the business that went down today, but he knows you well enough to fill in the blanks. Lukas has listened to you vent about your family so much, and everytime he consoles you like nobody else. He remembers past issues, connects them, brings them up to understand the context better. He frowns when you cry, he tries to make you laugh when you’re mad. He’s single handedly crushing your apprehensions on the relationship one night at a time. 

You feel refreshed in the morning, maybe you cried all the angst out of your bloodstream. There’s already a text from your boyfriend making sure you're okay, asking you to text him updates about your day. It’s one of the rare occasions that you won’t be in the office. Instead you’ll be at Connor’s wedding rehearsal, doing just as much work, only with your family instead of the company. Inside, you’re dreading the event. It’s awful, just 24 hours ago you were excited to see your siblings in person. You’d been prepared to hug and smile and laugh. Now, you weren’t sure if they’d even come. And worse, you had no clue how they’d react to your presence if they did attend.

Nevertheless, you persist. You treat the rehearsal like a work event you really don’t want to go to, practicing fake smiles in the mirror as you do your makeup, donning your best cocktail dress, and pushing through the anxiety rushing in your veins. The actual rehearsal is mostly uneventful, your siblings missing from attendance. Of course, it’s incredibly awkward. Willa clearly did not want to be there, tears welling in her eyes every five seconds. Connor absolutely knew this, trying to make up for it with overt public displays of affection. At one point you swear she’s gonna call it off. Instead, she runs off to the bathroom with her bridesmaids for half an hour before returning like nothing was wrong. By the time it’s over and Willa is rushing out the door, you’ve settled into a round table at the restaurant with Connor. You’re expecting to be consoling him for the rest of the night. 

It’s just your luck that your family arrives less than five minutes later.

“Finally!” Connor’s sudden interruption in your small talk makes your head whip around, your eyes landing on the trio approaching you. You set down your champagne glass a little too hard, and plaster a polite smile on your face as they near.

“Found him!” Roman is the first to approach his demeanor casual as always, eyes skipping over you to focus on Connor sitting to your right.

“Hey, hey.”

“Hey.”

“Here you are, we missed you.” You keep your voice gentle as you address them, letting Kendall give you a small pat on your shoulder in welcome.

“Hello sir, hugsie?” Rome stoops to plant a semi-authentic hug on Connor, gazing over his shoulder to give you a small look of endearment. A silent show of forgiveness you’ve gotten used to.“We’re so sorry man.”

“Yeah, dad screwed us.” Shiv reaches over you to hug your brother. She gives you a tight lipped smile to acknowledge your presence. “Hey, bro.”

“Oh look at you, the rebel alliance. How is it out in those hills? Supply lines okay? Got enough to eat?” Connor alters his voice a bit, putting on a front of normalcy for his family, even if he knows you can see right through it. Your siblings are still leaning on the table, standing noncommittally as you stay seated with your eldest brother. “This is how it is, huh? Us and Dad on one side, you guys on the other?”

Roman doesn’t answer, disregards his comment in favor of asking a competing question. “You… okay man? We saw Willa on the way in.”

“Yeah, I think it’s all fine.” Connor’s resolve slips as he responds, voice lowering to a level thick with anxiety and gloominess.

“Well…” You give a sideways glance at him before moving your gaze to the rest of your family. “When Willa stood up to do her speech, she said ‘I can’t do this.’ And then she ran to the bathroom and stayed there for forty minutes with her friends.” 

There’s a universal cringe that spreads across the table at that information.

“Oh no, no, no. That’s not-” Roman takes a seat, slouches back in his chair as he tries to assure Connor with some rambling. “That’s totally fine, don’t worry about that. Just… toss her another ten grand. -Or a snowmobile and some teeth whitening vouchers.” 

“Any luck, Sylvia?” Connor directs his message to a blonde, tanned woman holding a glass of red wine in one hand and her phone in the other. She shakes her head. “That’s Willa’s mom.” He adds under his breath before getting up to go speak with her in the corner.

“It's… fine Con.” Roman’s volume dwindles as your brother walks out of earshot. You scoot back in your chair a bit, craning your neck to look over at Connor while your siblings continue speaking.

“This is so fucking weird.”

“Okay so- do we regroup at my place?” Shiv lowers her voice as she speaks, almost like she’s telling a secret.

“Shiv. He’s, Come on- he’s lookin’ a little rough. Don’t you think?” Rome angles a thumb to your oldest brother. His voice is thick with sympathy, a rare display of emotion from him.

“Well, sure.” Shiv’s still standing, tapping her foot impatiently as her words speed up. “I’m sorry that Dad fucked us, and I’m sorry that we’re late, but we do need to decide fast… so…”

“Wait, decide on what?” Your head turns back to the group at the table, eyes settling on your sister in front of you. “And- you’re leaving? Seriously? You just got here, you can’t spend an hour with your brother? He’s clearly going through a lot!”

“Yeah, we should stay.” Kendall chimes in, giving you a small nod of agreement. “And- I mean, I think we know, right?”

“Do we, though? They made some pretty compelling arguments”

“Sandi’s a greedy little bitch. She’s got her hand up the ass of the carcass of her dad, and Stewy’s just along for the ride. It’s a- fuck it! It’s a packet of horseshit!” Roman’s speech gives you more insight into what it is they’re actually debating. There’s a thousand different reasons your siblings could be talking to Sandi and Stewy, but with your family it’s never just innocent conversation. And with Shiv’s comment about deciding fast… whatever they’re up to, it has to be affecting something in the near future.

“Okay. What if I want to talk it through?” Your sister stresses the word I, like she is the ultimate driving force in this decision. Which, to be fair, she seems to be.

“Talk what through? What’s going on- what are you three up to now?” Your head shakes slightly as you ask the question, already preparing for the worst. There’s a slight pause as your siblings look at each other, which you use to take another sip of champagne.

“Okay, still incommunicado.” Connor’s presence breaks the rising tension, and stops one of your siblings from having to answer you. “I just really hope she’s okay. So, what do you say? A little bit of karaoke?” 

“Would it be possible to do anything other than that in the entire universe?” 

“No, let’s do it! Come on, just this one time.” You give Connor a little shoulder nudge as he sits back next to you, encouraging his idea with a smile.

“Yeah, she’s partying, I can party.” There’s an air of both hopefulness and desperation around your brother.

“I mean, we can go drink, right? Little bachelor party for POTUS- SCROTUS?” It’s honestly a bit of a shock to you that Roman is so quick to comply. Then again, maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to Shiv about whatever scheme she's involving them in this time.

“Well I mean… we three kind of-” Shiv tries to step in, giving her best impression of someone regretful to decline such a kind invitation.

“Oh sure, everybody’s busy.”

“Come on. Let’s give him a drink, sis.” With Kendall’s agreement, your sister is outvoted. Connor claps in excitement. “Let’s give him a drink.”

“Yeah! But- but not your usual… stupid places. Uh… somewhere fun- and real! Away from the fancy dance.” Connor stands to tower above the table, talking with his hands as he outlines his plan for the night. “A real bar with chicks. And… guys who work with their hands and grease and sweat from their hands, and have blood in their hair.”

“I don’t like these guys. They sound like a medical experiment gone wrong.” Roman’s arms are crossed, his eyes narrowed in fake suspicion as Con takes a long drink of his red wine.

“Yeah… I don’t think we have that kind of place just engraved in our memories. Might have to Google this one.” You stand to join your brother, grabbing your clutch as your other siblings rise with you. Shiv is a bit reluctant, not moving until you all begin leaving the restaurant, then hurrying to catch up with you. So you quickly find yourself on the cold streets of NYC, walking (because Connor insisted) to the nearest dive bar you can find in a three block radius.

The bar is like something out of a movie. Like something from another planet. It’s all wood paneling and dark lighting and sticky counters. There’s old TVs mounted to the walls playing baseball and a glowing red exit sign over the door as you step in. The soundtrack is muted classic rock with the clinking of beer glasses over a constant chatter of patrons.

“Ah! America… I missed you.” Connor is immediately out of his depth, blue suit clashing horribly with the plaid flannels of the other customers.

“This is charming.” You shoot Roman a smile at his attempt of optimism, he brushes you off with an eye roll as you follow your oldest brother to the bar. 

“Okay, what’s everybody having?” Ken’s straight to business, you wouldn’t expect anything less out of him. “What do you want?”

“Uh- do you think they know how to make a vodka tonic?” 

“They can make a vodka tonic, Rome. You’ll just have to settle for Smirnoff” You give him an eyeroll of your own. It’s moments like these you feel so much more normal than your siblings, despite the fact that you’ve had such similar upbringings.

“House red? Do I dare?” Shiv’s comment gets a genuine laugh out of you, and a string of both ‘yes’s’ and ‘no’s’ from you and Roman. She chuckles before deciding, “That- just a club soda with a sealed lid. Nothing from that… tainted nozzle.”

“Con, what do you want?”

“I’ll just have whatever a regular Joe would have. Uh, Belgian Weissbier? Not Hoegaarden, ideally.” Connor’s distracted by his phone, looking down at it while speaking instead of answering Kendall’s question.

“How do you feel about Miller Light?” You get a small scoff from Shiv at that, but Con’s already too engrossed in his iPhone to pay you any mind. You drift over to Ken as he starts ordering the drinks. The background noise is loud enough that you can’t quite hear as Shiv pulls out her phone and begins speaking to Roman. It’s only a second before he moves away from her, but you catch the vague mentionings of Waystar and Sandi before the conversation is interrupted.

“Hey, can I get a, um- vodka tonic, I’ll have a bitters and soda…” Kendall orders for the group, listing out Shiv and Connor’s orders before turning to you for your drink.

“A Cosmo?” You pitch in, receiving a nod from the bartender in confirmation. You turn back to the trio of your other siblings, catching Con in the middle of a sentence.

“-Anyway I am reassured. She’s definitely not on her way to Cuba. Well, her phone isn’t.” You move closer to peak over his shoulder, seeing a little dot on a map lighting up his phone screen. “Yeah, she stopped movin’. Guess she found a spot she likes.”

“Sure…on another man’s dick.” You, Connor and Kendall look at Rome with the same exasperated expression as he speaks. “On a much bigger, nicer, harder, younger dick is all I’m saying.”

“Rome, that’s not-” Your tone is breathy with annoyance before your brother cuts you off.

“Can we not? Because you know, I’m feeling… I’m having certain anxieties, huh?” Roman mutters a string of disingenuous apologies as Connor talks over him. “I mean, I wanna have a good time!”

“Okay, all right. Let’s have fun. We can monitor her dot together.” Kendall’s nonchalance makes you cover your mouth to mute a giggle that you know would’ve ticked Con off. “Let’s- let’s get it up on the big screen.

“Why so long…” Connor points to his screen with two fingers. He reminds you of Logan trying to figure out new electronics when he doesn’t have an assistant nearby to do it for him. “Her dot is at an aquarium supply retailer. That doesn’t look safe- is that a drug thing?”

“No.” Looking behind Con’s back, you see Roman mouth ‘I love him’ across the way at you. You respond with blowing a little kiss in his direction.

“You sure?”

“I am sure.”

“It is. It’s a drug thing.” Roman moves in, working his magic to aggravate Connor in a way only a younger brother can. 

“Now she’s at a dry cleaners?” Connor runs a hand through his hair. 

“She’s probably getting her panties clean. Mussed 'em up a bit.” They’re too preoccupied with bickering to notice as Kendall waves to your drinks and departs the bar on a phone call.

You sigh as the two boys continue clashing, moving over to grab your drink from its spot on the bar. The drink is good enough. The vodka’s not very smooth and the orange peel looks like it was cut by a 5th grader, but it’s better than you expected from the shabby chic destination. When you start to hear Roman mention cum, you decide to break into the conversation.

“Hey guys. Drinks. Look.” You speak slowly, making big hand gestures like you’re talking to toddlers. It gets a scoff from Roman, but breaks up the tension enough for Connor to come over and grab his (definitely not Belgian, probably not even wheat based) beer. Shiv joins you too to grab her club soda. “How do we feel about food?”

“I could eat.” Connor is still pretty engrossed in his phone, but looks away for a few moments to sip from his glass. For what it’s worth, he doesn’t complain about the taste. 

“Shall we grab some menus?” Rome strolls over to grab his tonic, making his way to the nearest table.

“Here? Isn’t that guaranteeing food poisoning?” Shiv crosses her arms, holding her position at the bar as she glares at your brother.

“Come on Shivvy, we’re being average citizens. Remember?” You bite your lower lip in a smile, following Rome to sit at the table. Con comes with you, not even bothering to look up from his device as he just moves with the crowd. She’s out ruled, once again, and gives in to join you three. It’s only a few seconds later than Kendall joins you again, an indistinguishable look on his face. 

“Hey, what’s up? What did I miss?” His tone doesn’t give anything away, the same monotone, muttered pitch that you’re used to.

“We’re… eating! Right here!” Kendall sits in the free chair next to Roman as the younger man points animatedly to the menu in front of him. “Billy Ray Cyrus’s Kentucky Fried Shit Shack.”

“Roman, they’re gonna spit in your food if they hear you say that.” You shake your head, a small smile on your face as you turn your attention to your own laminated menu.

“Well, they seem to have some hearty fare.” Connor follows your lead, looking over the meal options himself.

“What was that shit?” You’re glad Roman asks before you do. The question is on your mind too, but it sounds less suspicious coming from your brother.

“Uh- Stewy…”

“Oh great, what the fuck now? What?”

“Well actually guys, can i- can i show you something?” Ken pulls out his phone, screen illuminating his face in the dark lighting of the bar.

“Yeah…” Shiv leans over to peek at Kendall’s phone while Roman tries to tune out the action happening before him. Instead of giving Ken the attention he’s asking for, Rome’s eyes scan the menu before he begins his interruption.

“Ooo, wings! I wonder from which particular creature they snip these wings.” He shifts the cadence of his voice, making his tone all whimsical and silly. “Perhaps a mammal…”

It’s um… on the comparables. It’s- it’s actually pretty fucking intriguing.” The information Kendall gives leaves a puzzled look on your face.

“Wait… why are you looking at the market comparables for Waystar?” You set down your menu as you make eye contact with Ken, narrowing your gaze slightly. “I thought you three were done with the company, completely into your Pierce-thing now.”

“Well, it just makes you think.” Shiv pitches in, your eyes shifting to her, brows still furrowed in question. “Maybe Dad isn’t on it like he used to be… he’s getting pushed around-”

“Fuck, she’s in the East River.” Connor’s outburst makes you whip around in his direction. You feel like a bobble head trying to even out our attention between your siblings. “She in the fucking- wait, no. She’s on the bridge, she’s headed to uh- Williamsberg.”

“Con, I love you, but there’s other shit going on.” You keep your tone gentle with him, a reassuring but slightly strained smile on your face.

“Not to be dicks but- can we do a little breakout chat? Just the three of us?” Shiv is already moving in her seat by the time the question is out of her mouth. Her eagerness makes you crinkle your nose in agitation. “We won’t be long, like, two minutes max.”

“Hey, fuck it. Why don’t we fold them in?” Rome scratches his nose and raises his shoulders in indifference as he addresses your sister. 

“Well, they’re not on the board so…”

“Yeah but they have sizable shares, so if the deal-” Roman makes a cutting sound low in his throat, “-they lose their payouts.” 

“Excuse me?” Connor’s focus is finally on the group instead of his phone, his hand now holding the beer glass he’d previously forgotten.

“Oh yeah, so, Shiv wants us to get mixed up in some sort of drug deal that will fuck the vote tomorrow.” And all your suspicions are unfortunately confirmed.

“You wanna fuck the deal?!” You can’t keep the shock from your voice.

“Um, no. A small delay, we all want the deal.” 

“And, look- I think I agree.” Kendall’s admission just surprises you more, causing you to shake your head lightly in disbelief.

“Oh, what the fuck now?”

“So, what? You think Waystar’s worth more than what Luk- or, Matsson’s paying, and you want to drive the price up?” Shiv and Ken nod in confirmation. “That’s so fucking stupid, he’ll walk if you try to force him to that!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna force Dad to grovel?” Connor steps in again, his expression mirroring yours. “Oh man, how long will a renegotiation take?”

“It’s a play.” Shiv moves her hands in front of her like she’s trying to smooth the air between you, trying to brush the tension away from the five of you. “More money is more money, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I just- I can’t” You stand from your seat, moving to squeeze behind Connor’s chair. “I need a break, just give me a minute.” 

“What, you running to Daddy?” Shiv calls from behind you. You flip her off.

 It’s not too difficult to find the bathroom in the restaurant, luckily it’s an individual stall with a lock on the entrance door. As soon as the latch comes down, you take a deep breath and let your back rest against the white tiled wall behind you. A hand comes up to brush hair out of your face, you fold your arms across your chest with a sigh. Reasonably, you should call your Dad. You should tell him about their scheming like a good daughter, let him deal with your traitorous siblings in any way he sees fit. But as you reach for your phone, your fingers end up dialing a different number.

“Have you been talking to my siblings?”

“A few of them, yeah.” Lukas answers your Facetime on the first ring, your phone showing an image of him sitting back in an armchair, donning a white tank top.

“Like, recently?”

“I just called Kendall a few minutes ago.”

“Fucking- I knew it.” Your jaw clenches involuntarily. If you were still a child, you’d be stomping your foot in anger.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Lukas’s face tenses a bit, his eyebrows coming up to form lines on his forehead as he questions you.

“Whatever you said, it’s convinced Kendall to fuck the board vote tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?” Despite the inquiry in his voice, he doesn’t seem surprised at the fact.

“They want more money from you, these market price comparables have influenced at least two of them, probably even more board members” Your filter for business information has been blown to pieces, at this point you’re letting whatever you want fly from your mouth. You’ll probably regret it in the morning.

“I figured.”

“Are you really gonna walk if they try to negotiate for more?” You can’t help the pitiful, almost whiny sound at the end of your question.

“Hey, it’s okay, I have it figured out. The deal will be fine regardless of what happens, I promise you.” Lukas’s tone takes on that nurturing tint he uses when you get flustered around him. You know that if you were there in person, he’d be pulling you into his lap to stroke your hair. “This has got you all worked up, huh?”

“I just- I feel so torn lately.” The sharp edge to your voice begins fading as he starts to coax the anger out of your system. “I just want everything to work out and everyone to be happy. And that’s really fucking hard when the people you love are all at eachother’s throats.”

“I know, you shouldn’t have to go through that. You’re just so caring, sometimes you can’t look out for yourself.” 

“I really miss you.” Your voice breaks a bit at the confession, fingers coming up to dab at the few tears that have gathered in your waterline. These moments with Lukas are like nights. Nights where the sky is dark and covered in clouds, and every once in a while the moon will peak through the haze and illuminate the entire world below. Somehow, just a minute with Lukas will brighten your entire demeanor, and will change you for the better.

“I miss you.” There’s a sad sort of smile on his face when he continues. “You have to take care of yourself when I’m not there. Don’t get overly involved with this shit, you know it’s ultimately out of your hands.”

“I- it’s like there’s so much going on I don’t even know about. And I’m just over here worried about how everyone feels.”You wrinkle your nose at the mention of feelings. Lukas gives a small chuckle at that, you wiping your tears with a newfound smile. “You should’ve seen me, I got so pissed when they said they were gonna fuck you over.”

“Aw you defended me?” He makes a little pouty face, putting out his lower lip with his best puppy dog eyes to make you laugh. “I love it when you’re feisty, turns me on.”

“Can I come up?”

“Absolutely, just tell me when. We have our company retreat soon, so before or after that I’ll carve out some time for you.”

“Oh gee thanks, cutting out time from your busy schedule to be with your girlfriend.” Lukas gives a fake frown at that, your smile grows wider in response. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You hang up the call with a wave before tucking your phone back into your bag. Going to the janky mirror bolted to the wall, you fix any smeared eye makeup after splashing a little cool water on your face to calm down. Your head feels clearer after that conversation, your emotions more regulated and understanding a little deeper of the issue at hand. It’s strange how just a few minutes away from your family can change your mood so severely. Making your way back down the wood paneled wall of the bar, you join the silhouettes of your siblings back at the table. 

“-I wanted to get married tomorrow. I wanted to spend tonight with my family and tomorrow with my dad and I wanted to get my fucking money out.” Connor’s arms are crossed as you back down next to him, shooting a concerned look to your other siblings. “If I were you I wouldn’t have fucking come back.” He gives you a shake of his head and a glare from the corner of his eye.

“What even was that about? Were… were you telling Dad?” Kendall raises his eyebrows as he addresses your presence again.

“No, I wasn’t. That’s your own shit, I don’t wanna be involved.” He nods, but still has a look of suspicion in his eyes. “Sometimes you guys just give me migraines. But anyway, can we do anything else, Con?”

“...I would like to sing one fucking song at karaoke, because I’ve see it in the movies, and nobody ever wants to go.”  There’s a short pause before Connor speaks, but he seems happy enough to switch the subject. Shiv smiles in the background of your view, Roman puts his head down on the sticky surface of the table. You put an arm around the back of Connor’s chair and smile at him during the lull in conversation.

“You wanna do karaoke?” He nods. “Let’s do it, Mr. Bachelor. You only live once.” His face lights up at your optimism, Kendall looks at your other siblings in apprehension.

“Can we do literally anything else?” Rome’s voice is muffled from its position, and Shiv puts a hand on his back in consolation.

“Come on, one song on the night before his wedding. Toughen up, Rome.” Ken deciding to support the idea makes it 3 to 2, Connor wins.

And so, with a substantial amount of whining from Roman, your party makes its way to a new location. This time, Connor allows you to get chauffeured by his driver, sparing you from the cold New York air. The karaoke bar is all modern white surfaces and bright pink lighting. The partygoers range from business men just getting off work to bachelorette parties dressed in animal prints. Luckily, the venue has a private room available at short notice and the five of you are quickly escorted there by a polite usher.

“So, what happens now?” Connor walks to the center of the room, not waiting for the door to be fully closed before eagerly exploring the new space.

“Uh, well… someone has to humiliate themselves in the shame palace.” Shiv holds up an inflatable saxophone toy with a smirk while your brother joins Con on the couch.

“It’s not humiliation, Siobhan. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?” You move to a wall holding a mounted flatscreen and two wireless microphones, beginning to fiddle with the electronic there.

“Think they have "Desperado" by The Eagles?”

 “I would imagine they do. Longest night of my life.” Roman is still looking around with his hands on his hips, surveying the room with a grimace on his face

“Oh, shit. She's gone dark- why has she gone dark?” Connor is once again transfixed on his phone, a panicked expression coming across his features as he rambles. “I mean… is this it? Is she going off with some buck and they're gonna…you know?”

“Hey, take it easy. Kendall moves the thick book of songs that Connor had been flipping through over to himself, trying to calm him with his causal tone. “Maybe-maybe her phone just died.”

“Yeah. Have you ever considered that she might not be right for you? This could be good. Yeah?” Shiv is still perched by the tub of comical accessories, saxophone now abandoned as she leans with her hand placed on the counter. “You'll meet someone else.”

“Connor?” There’s a pause in Kendall’s speech, a soft look in his eyes when he continues. “You're not doing better than Willa.”

“I would agree. Do not let Willa go.” 

“Romulus.” Ken’s begun to pour the provided champagne, holding a glass out to his younger brother carefully. When you see the drinks begin flowing, you make your way over to your brothers, leaving your attempt at understanding the karaoke technology begin. A chime on Connor’s phone grabs his attention again, a low sigh leaving his mouth before he speaks.

“So… Dad’s on his way.”

“What?”

“He wants us to meet him down at the car when he gets here.” Connors admission makes even you puzzled, looking around at your siblings in confusion.

 “What the fսck?” Shiv opens her arms, clearly in a similar state of discomposure.

 “How does he know we're here? How do you know he’s coming?” Kendall’s voice takes on a bit of an angry edge as he looks at you. “Did you tell him? Is that what that little ‘break’ was about earlier?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that!” You’re quick to defend yourself, crossing your arms over your chest as some kind of protection, some kind of armor.

“Fuck, you totally did. You’re lying!” Shiv sounds shrill behind you, her accusatory tone making you draw your eyebrows together in annoyance.

“Well, no. I told him… that it’s the night of a thousand wobbles over here and he needs to talk to you.” Connor finally steps in, taking the heat off you.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” You turn back to your oldest brother, arms coming out in an expression of absolute bafflement.

“My life isn’t filled with secrets like some people. I share things, and I want my father to be at my wedding.” Shiv moves to the back to the couch, leaning over it with two hands bracing herself.

“You mean you want the money?”

“Well no- Siobhan, that was not my primary consideration.”

“I mean, what do we do? Do we- do we leave? I mean…” Roman’s moved a hand to his mouth, chewing at his fingernails in anxiety. It’s always startling to you, how quickly he can turn subservient at the mention of your father. “Will he come in? He’s not coming in, right?”

“I am totally down to leave.” You move closer to Roman’s side in support. “I don't want to be around you-” your finger points at Connor in objection “if you pull insane shit like this!”

“This doesn’t even affect you, why are you so upset?” Shiv’s eyes narrow in a glare at you, still suspicious from your current connection to Logan.

“Because it’s evil and manipulative and- fucking conniving!”

“You know what? Just be water, my friend.” Kendall is surprisingly calm in the situation. You wonder if he’s high.

“‘Just be wat-’ Wow, thanks man.” Roman turns to you. “What happens if I kill a Buddist? Do I get reincarnated as a fucking Buddhist?”

“I hope not.” You sigh, grabbing the champagne from your brother's hand and swallow it in one gulp. “Fuck it, I’m really just gonna leave. I don’t think I can take any more of this shit tonight.”

“Honestly I would too, you don’t need to be a part of this.” Roman runs a hand through his hair as he begins pacing across the room. 

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not…” You move to reach across the island table grabbing the mostly full bottle of champagne from its resting place. “I’ll just deal with Dad on my own. I’d rather not experience his wrath in front of other people. And looking at Connor makes me want to vomit right now”

“Fair enough.” Kendall is still calm, leaning back on the couch as he addresses you with an expression so neutral that it makes you want to roll your eyes.

“Do you wanna come with?” You make eye contact with Roman, eyebrows raising in question.

“... I dunno-”

“If you wanna run away you can. Just send him another little text later, ‘Sorry I missed you Daddy, take care!’” Shiv makes her voice all whiny when she quotes your brother. She’s clearly trying to aggravate him, get him to stay even if it’s not the best idea. You silently pray that Roman’s strong enough to resist her.

“Fine, I’ll fuckin- stay. Let Dad strangle all of us together, mass homicide.” But he’s not. He gives in to Shiv too easily, makes you frown in empathy.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Text me later okay? I worry about you guys.” As you turn to leave, you add one thing over your shoulder with a little grin. “Don’t… don’t let him push you around. As much as I disagree with you, you have to make your own choices. Even if they’re wrong.” 

On the way home you finish the bottle, staring out the backseat window of the SUV as the bright lights of NYC whizz past you. When you enter your apartment, you only pause to set down the empty drink and kick off your heels before flopping back onto your bed. Your chest is a little giggly and your brain is a little fuzzy from the alcohol. So of course you decide it’s the perfect time to call your boyfriend.

“Hiii!” You speak as soon as he answers, drawing out the word with a cheeky smile on your face. You’ve rolled onto your stomach by now, supporting yourself with  your elbows as you gaze lovingly down at the image of Lukas in your phone. 

“Oh, you’re drunk. And sexy.” You laugh at that, it’s always surprising how quickly Lukas can read you. To be fair, you do look really hot. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy, and your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes. It reminds Lukas of how you look after he’s fucked you really well. 

“Yeah…I drank a bottle of champagne. By myself.” 

“Things went that bad?” His eyebrows furrow a bit as he questions you, clearly worried about your wellbeing.

“Kinda? It was actually Connor’s fault this time though.” You roll onto your back with a sigh, hair splaying out behind you in a halo. You hold your screen above your head, giving Lukas a little peak at the cleavage coming out of your shirt.

“Really? What happened?” His eyes dart to the sliver of your skin, but come back up to your eyes as he awaits your response.

“He, like, went to our dad about the shit Shiv and Rome and Ken are up to. The vote stuff I told you about.”

“And Logan was mad?”

“I assume so? I kinda left before he got there… it was just too much.” Your lips come together in a frown. “I dunno, maybe I shoulda stayed.”

“No, no, you did good. Looking out for yourself like I told you to.” Lukas gives a smile that you can’t help but mirror. He knows how his praise gets you.

“Maybe, we’ll see what happens. With him it’s like night or day. He’ll either love that I didn’t agree with them or hate that I didn’t rat them out to him.”

“Well, I’m proud of you. Regardless of what he says.” His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, eyes traveling back down to your cleavage.

“Thank you.” You pause for a second just looking at him before you continue. “If I wasn’t so drunk I’d have Facetime sex with you right now.”

“I can tell. Your pupils are so big your eyes look black.” Playfully, you roll your eyes in response. “Call me in the morning, I’ll take care of you then.”

“Okayyy, and I’ll see you soon right? Come up before your retreat thing?”

“Of course. I’ll talk to you in the morning, go get some sleep.”

You do end up getting some sleep that night, following your boyfriend's wishes. But you also energetically masturbate to his past dick pics to tire yourself out. When you tell him that in the morning, he audibly groans at the fact that he missed watching you. 

In the end, Logan isn’t mad at you. He’s not pleased either. But, being indifferent is better than you expected. Atleast, that’s what you tell yourself. He invites you with the core executive crew to come to Sweden for a sudden meeting with Matsson, and of course you accept. It means you’ll miss Connor’s wedding, but you honestly don’t want to see him right now anyways. Plus, it means you get to see Lukas sooner than expected. Ken ended up texting you a brief recap of what happened after you left last night. When you read it in the morning it makes you glad that you weren’t there. 

It almost feels like yesterday was a dream. Like life is all back to normal now and things will carry on just as they always have. The deal will go through, Logan will be happy leading ATN, your siblings will be happy with Pierce, or whatever they end up working with. And you will live happily ever after with Lukas, ideally on Mars, or in outer space, or some other place that alienates you from all physical contact with your family.

At least some of that ends up happening.

© secondhand-snow 2024

[gegewrites]

Dr.house- 2 am(smut)

Time wise takes place in season 1, I don't think my timelines exactly right but I can't find exact dates since they're lot really specified.

I’m on a Fuckin role!

4.2k words!!! Not at all edited I just finished this and posted it

5/22/23

Your pov-

It's not every night you get a call from Greg House  to come to his apartment at 2 in the morning...but here I was standing in the entrance room of apartment 221 about to knock on the door to apartment B.

I've been to his house before, I've known the asshole for 11 years, I met him a year before his golfing incident.

I raised my hand and knocked on the door, loud enough for him to hear, quiet enough to not alert the neighbors. I waited for a few seconds of nothing and knocked again, a few seconds later it opened.

"Get in." He promptly spoke, turning around and immediately walking away.

I came in, shutting the door behind me. I kicked my slippers off as i gazed over at the piano, which was obviously being used a bit earlier by the open music and shuffled around music sheets on top. Last week it was tucked in the corner, now it's facing out into the room. One guitar was hung on the wall, the other on a floor stand.

On his coffee table was a half empty bottle of whiskey and a few scrambled folders.

"I was sleeping you know." I said as he came out of the kitchen with a mug. He was still in his work clothes, well the T-shirt and pants part of it, and Now I'm noticing the smell of coffee.

"Fully aware, sit." He plopped down onto the couch and leaned forward, resting his cane against the arm of the couch on his side.

I let out a sigh as I walked over, plopping down next to him. He handed me the red mug right away and I grabbed it.

"That's one hell of a tank top." He commented and I looked down at myself. It was white, and tight. I didn't get dressed alright, I threw on some plaid pj pants, grabbed a zip up hoodie, and threw on my slippers and left.

"Shut the fuck up Greg. I gotta be in the office at six." I took a sip from the mug,"this is fucking good."

"Good, so look at this." He handed me a whole file so I put the mug down on the table and leaned back with the folder.

"Anna Mae Johnson, 56, female..Hallucinating and loosing her vision." I looked up from the file and looked at him, leaned back in the corner of the couch holding a glass of whiskey. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. You were the only neurologist that picked up my call." He shrugged. I'm not just a neurologist, I'm also an ophthalmologist and general surgeon. I didn't let my scholarships at Stamford go to waste. "And, frankly I don't feel like spending another 3 hours with this women."

"Wilson didn't pick up?" I raised my brow.

"Oh no, he did. And he told me to fuck off." He half smiled for a second and i rolled my eyes.

"Could've called me down when I was at the office Greg." I shook my head at him,"Wheres the scans and tests?"

"Red folder." I put down the file and opened up the red folder.

I saw brain scans and negative labs, I was looking for an Amsler grid report or a OCT.

"Did you get an ophthalmologist to look at her eyes?" I looked over at him and he raised his brow at me,"her eyes. She's loosing her vision, did you get some sight tests?"

"Should be something in there." I rolled my eyes at him as I flipped through papers,"Why her eyes?"

"I thought diagnostic medicine was your specialty?" I shot at him and heard his scoff," because macular degeneration, loosing the vision." I opened up the patients file and flipped to the medical history, I felt him shift on the couch, he was sitting closer to me, leaning forward to look at the file...or maybe my chest.

"The gears are turning." He poked my temple.

"Alright, She started having problems with her vision 3 months ago, blurry and getting worse. She went to the eye doctor to change her prescription, it worked for 3 weeks and she never went back. Could be wet AMD."

"abnormal blood vessels growing under the retina. Which have been leaking blood or other fluids, which causes scarring of the macula."he nodded slowly as he looked towards the fireplace.

"So do Anti-VEGF treatment. But the hallucinations aren't a symptom of the AMD. Could be Charles Bonnet syndrome, that's a symptom of vision loss, lack of light entering the Retina so the brains creating images to fill the void." I explained and he hummed.

"can't treat the CBS, but we can treat the AMD, either with the anti-VEGF or laser surgery."

"VEGF first, then the laser." I closed the folders and grabbed the mug and leaned back in the leather couch. "what else?"

"That's really it."He looked back at me and I cocked my head in disbelief at him.

"You didn't know it was AMD or CBS?" I took a sip and he shrugged.

"Had a slight idea, needed a 4th opinion." He grabbed the whiskey bottle and opened it, pouring some into his glass. He closed it and leaned back, holding his glass on his right thigh.

"At two AM?"

"We'll considering you were teaching from three to five, i couldn't bother you. I knew I could get you at two AM, I've gotten you at four." I shook my head as I took snother drink from the mug,"why haven't I hired you?"

"Because I like having my own office." I answered,"my turn, why in the last eleven years haven't I slapped you yet?"

"We'll, for like 5 of those I was married."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Might've wanted to jump my bones afterwards, I've heard some things." I let out a laugh at the smug look in his face.

"We were both single, horny, and drunk." I crossed my right ket over my left leg,"it doesn't count."

"Oh wilson counts it." He smirked snd wiggled his brows. I let out a sigh, and ran my tongue under my bottom k-9s with a smirk on my face.

"I'm not tell-"he cut me off promptly.

"I don't need you too, I've heard it already." He looked away from me and looked over at the fireplace again and then to the coffee table.

"Oh really? What was your favorite part?" I asked sarcastically, Wilson told me he didn't tell anyone we screwed, but I know Greg doesn't count.

"When you- and I quote- sucked his soul from his dick and then rid him like a fucking pornstar." He finally looked at me,"the scratches you left on his back were also very impressive."

"Wow alright." I felt my heart in my throat, not in a bad way.

I sat up and placed the mug on the table, uncrossing my legs and standing up.

"I'm going-"

"No you're not," he grabbed my wrist, not hard but strong enough to keep me,"you wanna see how far this will go. You're blushed, got a little shake in your hand." He let go it my wrist," And I gotta say, your tits look great. It'd be a crime to not give them attention."

"Is that the Vicodin or whiskey talking?" I sat down if the edge if the couches arm, he was placed in the middle of the couch now.

"Me."

"What? Is a Hooker not available for a night call?" I love giving him a hard time.

"I thought she did arrive?" He gasped and looked at me with a shocked expression. I scoffed at him.

"So what? You call me to come here, have me look at your patients files and solve it for you, and now you think I'm gonna fuck you?"  I crossed my arms and he cocked his head before nodding.

"I don't think you are, I know you are. Wilson's bad at keeping secrets and you like to talk." He took a drink from his glass,"so either we can fuck, or you can just keep waiting, but you've been waiting awhile so I don't think you want to."  My jaw dropped slightly at his words. Damnit Wilson. 

I slid off the arm and sat down next to him, my toros turned to him, my arm resting on the head of the couch, my brows furrowed.

"So I'm actually here to fuck you?" I asked,"you couldn't wait. just had to have me huh?"

"I can blame you for my acute insomnia lately, that's why I'm awake."  He leaned forward and out his glass on the table.

"I've finally gotten under Dr.houses skin haven't I?" I raised my brow, a smirk on my face.

"You've been under my skin for awhile, it's not new." That was news to me. these last couple of months it seemed like he could care less. He kept me around, but it wasn’t the same. I knew how he was though, why I never brought it up.

“Really?” I got a surge of confidence, and I took it.

I used my leverage on the couch to move and straddle his thighs, making sure I was careful when coming around to his right leg. His hands immediately came and sat on my thighs

“Thought you were leaving?” He looked over his shoulder to the door,”or was I right?”

“You’re right, I wanna jump your bones.”

“What about your six AM shift?” His hands left my hips and came up to take hold of my hoodie by the collarbones,”suddenly not important because you know you’re gonna get fucked?”

“I suddenly don’t have to go in till nine.” He pushed my hoodie off, I let it fall off my arms and he watched it do so, he then tossed it down to the side of the coffee table. When he looked up at me, I let my lips come down on his, he responded quickly. My hands sat on his shoulders and His hands sat on my ass, he used the grip to pull me closer to him. My chest pushing into his.

I could taste the whiskey on his tongue and the coffee on mine. His beard tickled my chin and all I could think about was how it would feel in between my legs, the thought made my hips grind down on him. His finger tips pushed into my skin as he joined in on the motion. Rocking my hips steadily down on his hardening cock in his pants.

A hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his head, my fingers carding through his hair. I could feel my heartbeat in my pussy, snd I could myself getting wet.

He pulled away from me shortly after, but his lips came back to my skin. Placing a trail of kisses from my jaw to my neck, the feeling of his beard caused a small moan to escape as his hands slid up the back of my ass and took hold of the hem of my tanktop.

I felt him bundling it in his hands, though his lips didn’t leave my neck yet, he wasn’t bitting or sucking just leaving open mouth kisses as he traveled to my collarbones and placed a kiss in between them.

His eyes met mine again, his pupils more dilated then before. He didn’t say anything but took the moment to start lifting my tanktop off snd I let him, he tossed it behind me to my hoodie.

“I knew they were nice, but wow.” His eyes were glued on my chest like a teenage boy to his first playboy magazine. his hands rubbed up and down my waist,”sure they’re real? I’ll be able to tell.”

“They are.” I replied as his hands took hold of them, massaging them. I pressed them harder into his hands, I just wanted to feel him. If I was gonna screw Dr.House, I might as well make it good.

I kept my hips rocking on him, my hips rocking faster and I tried to keep my upper half as still as possible. his hard cock rubbing against my clothes pussy. What a night to wear lace to bed. He pressed kisses to my left breast before taking my nipple into my mouth, that hand slid down my ribs and pushed past the band of my pants and slipped right past my panties.

His tongue swirled around the bud as his finger ran right over my slit before diving to my clit.

“Aah yes.” I sighed out, finally reviving what I want, focusing on grinding into his finger. he wasn’t moving it, just keeping it there for me to use. I appreciate it. His mouth left my nipple and me pressed a kiss between both my breasts. Another moan left my mouth as my head lulled back, my lips stayed parted.

“Wet and needy, just as I was hoping.” His hand slipped away from my breast and onto my waist, he held it tightly,”the tough doctor turns into a little bitch when aroused.”

“Focus on me, not yourself.” I retorted and he scoffed.

Something I was expecting was getting flipped my off of him. He had me pinned under him, his good leg kneeled on the couch, keeping my right leg pinned to the back of the couch, also keeping him stable with the help of his new found grip on the couches arm. His finger didn’t leave the clit In the motion, so he started rubbing faster, even added a second finger.

My chest started rising a bit faster as more moans left my lips, and in true men-fashion, right as it was getting good…he pulled away. His hand exited my pants, but both hands came and met the band of my pants. His weight shifted to his good knee as he pulled both pieces of clothing down my legs, lifting them up when needed, then letting them fall. He tossed the clothing with the rest and I sat up and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, taking a moment to start a heated kiss, one that lasted long enough to slide my hands to the hem of his shirt and start pulling it up.

I pulled away from him to get it over his head and arms and threw it behind Me. Grabbing his face and pulling him back down with me resuming the kiss. Grabbed my previously pinned leg and held it over his hip and pulled away from me. His right hand came back down to my pussy. Wet and begging for anything; Which he gave. His middle finger came down to my core, circling it before diving in. A moan louder then the rest ripped out of me.

“If only I could get that sound copied on a record, could listen to it all day.” I looked at him through slotted eyes, meeting his blue ones which shifted from my gaze to my Pussy. His ring finger joined his middle finger, pumping out of me in a medium pace. My back was sticky against the leather as my back lifted up, my boobs lightly bouncing as my chest rose and fell.

“Feels fucking great.” I moaned out, my eyes falling closed. I felt the couch shift and then lips and a beard against my inner thigh. Trailing open mouth kisses to my core. I couldn’t stop the begging from leaving my lips,”please Greg, please.”

“Gettin’ there.” He quickly commented before his tongue latched to my clit.

My body shivered and my eyes rolled back under my closed lids. His fingers finally found my gspot and my hand shot to his hair, tugging on his crown. My hips rolled into his face as he switched between licking and sucking my clit.

I couldn’t help but moan, i was feeling great. My thighs pressed against his bare and warm shoulders, my calf being nudged by his elbow each time he pumped his fingers. My head felt dizzy, my body warm, and my abdominal muscles tight. I was gonna cum already, last bar hookup was 4 months ago and I’ve barely used my vibrator. There was no doubt I was gonna be the quick one tonight. My hips started bucking up, so his free arm pressed down on hips, holding me a bit more still and controlled. He changed his fingers angle snd pressure, curling them in a “come” motion.

“Just like that!” My voice was a higher pitch now, and within a few second, pathetically, k was seeing stars behind closed lids. My nail scratching against his scalp, trying to hold onto him for dear life, my other hand taking hold of the top edge of the couch.

He kept his pace and speed for bit after my orgasm, trying to push me to a cliff. Which he did Successfully, could probably tell my how I was I moaning his name, how wet his chin was, and how wet I was getting, and used it to know when the right time was to stop.

“Wow.” He breathed out as he sat up, adjusting to sit down properly,”now I understand why you eat pineapple everyday.”

I haven’t even opened my eyes yet, my legs were shaking, and I was catching my breath. I felt his weight leave the couch and heard the shaking metal of his belt, so I opened my eyes. I met his gaze which was staring at me and then they went down to where his hands were. Unzipping his pants, about to reveal the dick I’ve wanted to ride for a few years. I sat up, feeling how wet the bottom of my ass was against the leather. Now I understand why the couch is leather.

I pushed his hands away and hooked my fingers into the band in his boxers and started pulling them down, taking hold of his hard cock when it sprung out. He grabbed hold in his is pants from coming down any further then he wanted m, and he simply shook his head grabbing his cane. I respectfully brushed it off, my hand left his boxers band and traveled up his side sitting on his hip. He was bigger then I would’ve guessed, but it made sense.

I let go of his cock and spit onto my hand, taking hold of his and twisting my fist up and down, when I licked his tip. I looked up at him through my lashes. His head was rested back, obviously an expression of pleasure was plastered on his face, his breathing deep. so I let my eyes fall as I look him into my mouth, not wasting time to flatten my tongue, pumping the base of his cock. I felt his hand snake into my hair, grabbing some in his fist. He wasn’t using it to control me, though it wasn’t hard to tell by his tightening grip he wanted to. I would’ve let him, I kinda planned on letting him, but he only kept me down there for a few more moments before pulling me off.

“What are you on?” He asked the moment his cock left my mouth.

“IUD.” I answered catching the breath I needed. He didn’t respond,”it’s fine, as long as the last prostitute you fucked was clean.”

“Made sure.” He assured me as he sat down, letting his cane rest against the couch again. I stood up to get a better placement over his cock. His hands sat on my hips, his lips finding my breast again. I reach around and grabbed his cock, sliding it through my folds before holding it to my core.

I lowered down on it, moaning out at the initial stretch, and he groaned. His head falling back onto the head of the couch as he took a long inhale through his nose and sighed it out, a whispered “fuck” followed suit. Lowered down more, grabbing onto his shoulders, and biting down on my lower lip to stop a moan that would wake the neighbors from coming out. I lowered down completely onto him, taking a bit more then half of him in one go. I curled forward, moaning onto his neck as his finger tips pressed into my skin.

“When was-“

“Four months ago, shut up.” I mean pushed off of him and met his face, a disconcerted look on his face.

“I’m honored.” His tone was cocky and paired with a smirk. He raised hips and lowered me back down, that fuzzy brain feeling was coming back when he did it again, and again. Each time higher to where his tip was only left, snd lowering me down harder.

“Oh fuck Greg!” My nails pressed into his skin, I caught on with his movement, moving my hips with his guidance. He didn’t like slow I could tell, medium pace was where he liked to start at. Slowly getting faster, snd harder.

My brain drowned out into the sounds of our breathing, my moans, and the loudening groans that came from him. I could feel how wet the inside of my thighs were getting. My hips on auto pilot, riding him quickly. His tip bumping snd rubbing into my gspot.

My nails finally dug into his shoulder when his thumb met my clit and my walls tightened around him. Rubbing Harsh circles against the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You look fucking perfect.” I couldn’t open my eyes, too overwhelmed with my nerves feeling like they’re on fire, my heart pulsing in my throat and clit,”and so-goddamn (y/n), squeeze me any tighter and I’m not gonna have a dick.”

“Dram-ah- queen.” I said through my shakey , near breathless voice. I didn’t wanna cum, not yet. It was all Too damn good to not savor it.

So I grabbed onto the back of the couch and started really riding him. Rocking and swiveling my hips into his when I came down, keeping my speed and pace constant, at least trying.

“Oh fuuck me (y/n).” His thumb started rubbing faster, ripping a broken moan from my throat. My chest pushed into his, his fingertips pressing further into my waist, no doubt leaving bruises for tomorrow.

“I’m gonna cum.” I speedily warned him.

“Not yet, just a few more minutes.”

“Greg-“

“Just wait.” His tone was firm but tinted with a bit of fake annoyance at my greediness.

“Jus’ want you to fill me up, come on.” My breathing was deep as I spoke but sped up when I stopped. My hairline was damp snd so was the back of my knees.

He bucked his hips up into mine, sounds leaning his throat at their own will, so caught up in his own pleasure he couldn’t even care.

Those few minutes felt like torture, my orgasm on the brink of snapping while his thumb is still abusing my clit. The corners of my lips curled when I felt his cock start twitching inside of me, getting more obvious by the second.

“Now.” He spit out,”gonna full up this greedy pussy.”

It snapped, my orgasm ripped through me, my walls spasmed around him which triggered his orgasm. I pushed my body into his, feeling his warm skin radiating against mine. I could feel him shooting into me, mixing with my own orgasm and spilling down my thighs and onto him.

I rode him till I couldn’t anymore, I finally gave out. His cock buried inside me as I laid against him, his hands holding onto my ass as we caught our breath. Soon after he lifted my hips off of him, his cock sliding out of me and I moved to sit on the leather next to him. Holding one of my knees to my body, my head falling back.

“If I knew your dick was that big I woukd be jumped you years ago.” I let out a breathy chuckled snd he hummed.

“I regret not grabbing your Tits earlier, should’ve acted on my impulse.” He said standing up, putting his boxers and pants back on,”so anti-VEGF treatment tomorrow?” He asked grabbing his cane and leaning against it as he looked down at me.

“Let me check her out first and I’ll confirm.” I answered and looked back up at the ceiling. I heard him walk away so I lifted my head and watched him,”where are you going?”

“To clean up and go to sleep, you coming?” He asked stopping in his tracks.

“Not again tonight, no.” I replied and he blinked at me a few times, a smile keept to his lips.

“Ha-ha!” He sarcastically laughed before going back to his original expression and limping away. I can’t really be mad, I kinda solved his case and got fucked, but now it’s 3:40, and I have work at six still.