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friendship-ditch · 2 months ago

Text

Portrait

Carol Aird x Fem!Reader ✼

Summary: Carol hires you as an artist to fulfill various requests, though not all of them involve art.

Warnings/Notes: Slight non-sexual nudity? Nothing really

Word Count: 3596

It was hard to find work as an artist.

You often found yourself darting from contract to contract, visiting their houses and completing their jobs, but never getting called back. It was usually rich people that hired you so you did leave with a good sum of money, but it was only enough to last you a certain time. There were a few times money was hard and you’d pick up a side job to earn a solid income but just that was torture.

You were an artist, unchained and unbound. Tying yourself in with the restraints of a corporate job sounded like hell. You would go insane.

But as the winter settled in and heating bills rose, you found yourself having to take a few more unfavorable jobs as well from the usual portraits and elaborate murals. That’s how you ended up repainting the women's bathroom in Frankenburg’s, the department store. You tried to get there early and work before customers came in but the walls were in desperate need of assistance and you spent half of the time peeled off the old shitty paint.

Nearly every woman that entered the bathroom gave the strange girl on a ladder painting the upper walls an odd look; usually one of annoyance or confusion, but they rarely ever said anything. You eventually got so used to tuning them out, that when someone did speak to you, they had to try quite a few times.

“Excuse me?” A voice asked, quite loud.

Startled, you looked down the ladder. If you weren’t clinging on tight, you probably would’ve fallen over.

She was beautiful.

Golden hair curled just above her shoulders, body wrapped in a rich fur coat and hands hidden beneath leather gloves. She was staring up at you, a polite smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, am I in your way?” You stuttered. Of course you weren’t. There was nothing here but a wall. You cleared your throat. “Or uh… do you need something?”

The woman chuckled. “The latter. You don’t mind if I ask you something, do you? I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

“No, no, not at all. I need a break.” You climbed down before taking a seat on one of the lower steps. “How can I help?”

“Do you do home work?”

“I do anything.”

A little smirk spread across her lips, then was forced back into that polite smile, though the twinkle in her eyes didn’t fade.

“I can hire you, then? I promise it’s a better job than a bathroom.”

She was beautiful and funny? Was this a dream? If she wasn’t staring at you with those intent blue eyes, you would’ve slapped yourself just to check.

“Yes. You can hire me.” You dug around in your pocket for a business card and pulled a rumpled one out. “Sorry… I’ve been here a while. Everythings a bit messy.”

“I don’t blame you.” The woman took the card like a treasure. “When are you available?”

“Anytime after today.”

“Wonderful. My husband was supposed to paint the hallway but… he’s not around to do that anymore.” The woman huffed, then blinked at the look on your face. “Oh, no, he’s not dead. We’re just divorced, that’s all. It’s for the better he’s not around… though I’m not in the best headspace to spend hours on a ladder, if you understand where I’m coming from.”

Seeing as you’d just been on a ladder for the past 4 or so hours, you didn’t, but you smiled anyway.

“Completely. Just give me a call later and tell me what you need.”

“I will.” The woman winked and turned towards the door, then she paused. “I’m Carol. Carol Aird.”

“Y/n.” You replied, not missing the way her lips quirked up into a grin.

She dipped her head and then left, though you could hear her voice hang behind for a moment: “I’ll see you soon, Y/n.”

And you did see her soon. She called you the next day and you went to her house the day afterwards. She’d already gotten the paint and everything with the intention to redo the hallway herself, but after climbing the ladder and getting hit with a wave of vertigo she swore it off.

Now you were pulling up in front of her house. It was a nice, large stone house way out into the country of New Jersey. The maid brought you inside and you met Carol in the hallway.

The hall had long walls and tall ceilings, the old white paint peeling off around the edges from years of clinging on. Carol had done you a favor and moved what furniture and paintings she could. You negotiated a pay and then she left you to paint.

While you worked, you could hear her playing and talking to her younger daughter downstairs, Rindy. The little girl was the one to come up and very shyly ask you about lunch, which Carol had just called you down to. You’d never had a client serve you lunch before, much less invite you into their dining room but Carol would have it no other way.

“I can’t thank you enough for this, truly. You’re a saint.” Carol set the tray down on the table with your sandwich and glass of ice water. She brushed her fingers against your shoulder and then nudged the curtains aside to peer out the window. “I had been planning to hire a painter for a long time, but it kept slipping my mind. I suppose I’ve been rather busy recently.”

“With the divorce?” The words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them. You’d found an overturned family photo upstairs that had fallen from the hallway table. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Carol assured you with a heavy sigh. “You’re right. The divorce has taken a lot out of me, I suppose. But it’s for the better. I’m tired… but happy.”

You nodded quietly in understanding, about to drop the topic when she looked over at you.

“We fell out of love, Harge and I.” The wistful tone in her voice led you to believe she hadn’t talked about this to anybody in a while. “I was first… I fell in love with someone else for a time. My best friend. She and I are long over but what little Harge and I had left was broken. I don’t blame him… but in all honesty he never treated me like a wife. Just an object.” Carol trailed off as she turned to face you. “I’m sorry. You don’t care about this.”

You shook your head and stood to join her at the window, sandwich clutched in your hand. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. I like talking.”

“Do you…” Carol smiled faintly. “You’re a dear.”

Her words brought a bashful smile to your face and you just chuckled.

It was later that day, as you were finishing up the hallway, that Carol came upstairs once more. “How packed is your schedule?”

“Honestly? Not very.”

“Can I hire you again?” Carol looked up at the newly painted walls, admiring your work. “Rindy’s room is a bit… the colors are rather faded. Harge promised her a mural above her bed long ago but that fell through, I was thinking about maybe a light pink.”

“I can paint a mural.” You offered.

“Really?”

“Yes.” You grinned and nodded, eager to do something other than plain colors. “I’m actually… Well, usually I do more commissions and stuff like that. I’ve just been doing wall paintings to pay the bills.”

A look of curiosity flashed through Carol’s eyes and she nodded slowly. “And your commission schedule?”

“Still empty.”

“Would you be able to pump something out before Christmas?”

“Yes.” You decided not to say the ‘for you’ that nearly slipped out. “I can do that.”

You would say anything to see that big smile spread across her face. And it wasn’t just that. The second Carol found herself naturally close enough, she pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head and ruffled your hair affectionately. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/n.”

The next few days you completed the mural in Rindy’s room, though you spent half of the time talking with Carol about various little Christmas presents she wanted to commission for various family members and friends. Before you knew it, you were spending a lot of time there at her home with her and Rindy. You got to know the both of them pretty well, doing a few little paintings for Rindy and being a friend you learned that Carol desperately needed.

It was one late night after a little bit of wine that Carol asked you to paint her. The two of you gathered into the study and you sat her on a stool beside some flower vases. Then you propped your easel up in front of her and began to paint. It was a bit of a struggle since the two of you kept giggling but you eventually got into the groove, at least, for a little while.

“You moved again.” You peered above your canvas at the elegant and poised woman, noting her torso was now tilted slightly towards the left. It had previously been straight.

“Did I?” Carol’s voice sounded from a few feet ahead where she sat. She tried to lean back to her previous position but her hand flew to her back with a grunt. “Shit…”

“Is everything alright?” Not liking the sound of her in pain, you abandoned your paintbrush. The portrait was coming out well enough for a sketch, it could wait. You crossed the room and stood beside her with a frown.

Carol took a shaky breath as her hand rubbed in tense circles over her side. She furrowed her brow when you replaced the motion with your own hand but didn’t protest. “Y-yes… I’m fine. Just a little stiff, I slept on my side badly and it sinches up.”

“You poor old lady.” You cooed softly. Carol tried to bat your hand away but you moved it further down her side, immediately finding the sore spot by the way she flinched. “I guess I should’ve decided on a pose easier for your dinosaur bones.”

“Cruel.” Carol huffed though there was no bite in her tone. She unfurled a little beneath your gentle ministrations but not much. “Treat your elders well or I’ll be the one laughing once you get unexplainable pain.”

You chuckled, feeling her lean against you a little more. “Alright… tell me how to treat you well, then.”

“Don’t force me to sit like this.”

“I didn’t force–”

“Help me up.” Carol paused, wincing again. “...please.”

You slipped one arm around her middle, arm reaching behind her and hooking on the other side of her waist. She carefully draped her own arm over your shoulders. The aching side of her body faced the air so as to not stretch it further.

The second she was on her feet you caught a faint mumble of ‘bed,’ sounding from her lips and began helping her out of the study and towards the staircase. It wasn’t easy. The hallway, decorated in rich wallpaper and wooden trims seemed so long. But you didn’t really have a choice.

“I’m sorry, Carol.” You murmured after her third muffled grunt of pain. “Let me fix this somehow, please.”

“Don’t pity me, y/n, I’ll manage.” Carol’s nimble fingers reached for the rail of the stairs. She appreciated your help of course but to have you practically drag her up there was slightly mortifying. The wood creaked beneath her tight grip and she took a deep breath.

“Would a bath help?”

“You want to bathe me?” Carol didn’t mean to sound so utterly flabbergasted at the idea but the tone slipped from her tongue. She couldn’t even remember the last time Harge did such a thing, if he ever did. Though she’d never admit it outloud, the idea was attractive.

A slight blush tinted your cheeks and you nearly dropped her down the stairs. “Well… if you want…?”

“I’m teasing.” Carol lied, locking herself back up after a few seconds of thought. She had no reason to lay herself bare for you. Even for you, that was much too vulnerable for her tastes. “But a bath would be,” her breath hitched at a long stretch, “pleasant, yes…”

“I’ll draw one for you.”

The walk to the lavish bathroom was more painful than usual. You’d always dreamed of a bathroom this large and extravagant… upon finding that out, Carol often offered it to you after a long day. She let you guide her over the cold tile and took a seat by the window as you began to fill the tub.

“How often does this happen?” You asked, fingers swirling around in the warm water to make sure you didn’t scald the poor woman. On the other side of the room, behind the privacy wall, Carol was struggling to slip out of her clothes and into a robe. There was a thump, then a response.

“Not often… it’s picked up ever since things with Harge went down. The doctor told me it could be a stress response.” Carol gritted her teeth, fingers aimlessly scraping over her back in an attempt to unstick the zipper on the back of her blouse. When her attempts were futile, she peeked around the corner. “Help me, please.”

It took a little tugging but eventually the zipper came loose. The blouse practically melted off Carol’s shoulders, revealing her somehow both muscular and slim back, only obscured by her lace bra. Your fingers lingered a moment too long and Carol chuckled.

“Unclip that too, please.” She added. You did as she asked and she turned to face you, an arm keeping the fabric over her chest. “Thank you. Is the bath ready?”

“Yes.” You helped her over to the tub slowly. Once you reached it, you turned around so Carol could strip off the rest of her clothes in private. Her soft groan of contentment and the slosh of the water was enough of a sign for you to turn back around.

Submerged beneath the soothing, bubbly water, Carol grinned at you through half lidded eyes. Her head lolled back against the wall and one hand hung lazily over the tub's wall. “This is divine.” She hummed. “How do you run such a wonderful bath?”

You watched quietly as Carol lifted her hand above her head, her blue eyes studying the limb as though it was alien to her. “It’s not too hard. Just… fill the tub with water.” Carol flexed her fingers a few times as if waiting for more. When you said nothing else, she turned her head in your direction.

“That's it? No secret bath salts or anything?”

“No.”

Carol burst out laughing, though the laugh was cut with a wheeze as pain flared up in her back. She sank further into the water so her nose was the only thing visible through the bubbles and giggled softly. “Strange. Perhaps you just have the touch. I’ve never felt so relaxed from a bath before.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that as you sat down beside the tub. You drew circles in the suds atop the water. “That’s a new compliment, I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Sell it with your business. Y/n: Art and Baths.”

Both of you laughed. Your laugh turned into a yelp when a hand snaked up out of the water and grabbed yours tight.

“What are you doing?” You shook off the sudden wave of shock, watching curiously as Carol’s fingers left soapy trails over your skin. The soft pads of her fingers brushed up and down your arm, turning it over until she was satisfied.

“You’ve got paint here.” Carol tugged your arm closer, revealing a large splatter of green paint on your skin. Then she looked up at you, eyes taking in the multiple paint spots on your face. “You’ve got paint everywhere.”

“That happens.”

“Does it itch? Rindy spilled a whole container of paint on herself one evening. The poor thing cried for hours about the itch.” Carol began to scrub the paint off your arm before you even replied. Her nails dug gently at your skin, peeling the green off and watching it dissolve in the water.

You chuckled as the touch began to tickle the closer it got to your elbow. “It doesn’t itch a lot. Sometimes it does, though.”

“We can’t have an itchy artist.” Carol pursed her lips. Once the spot on your arm was gone, she lifted her hand and waved her fingers. “Come here.”

When your face was in reach, she sat up a little. The bubbles just barely covered her chest, but you could care less about that. Her fingers were now gently scrubbing away at a streak of blue on your cheek. The corner of her bottom lip was bit tight between her teeth, concentration in her eyes as she worked.

“This stuff is strong.” Carol muttered in displeasure.

“That’s how it lasts so long.”

She only huffed and continued to scrub. When she noticed some paint by your ear, she flashed you the same look she probably gave Rindy when her painting incident happened, then got to work once more.

“Is your back feeling better?” You tried to make smalltalk to ignore how close her head was to yours. You could feel her breath on your skin, droplets of water dripping down your neck from her fingers, only to meet their doom from her hand.

“Much.” Carol murmured. “I don’t even feel it anymore. You’re a saint.”

“Truly, all I did was fill the tub with water.”

“Well, truly, I think it feels so good because you did it.” Carol whispered in an odd tone. When you turned to look at her, your faces gently bumped into each other.

You pulled away in surprise but Carol didn’t. Her hand settled on your neck and she was watching you through deep eyes, contemplation clear in them.

“I feel drunk… is it late?” She asked.

“It’s nearly 1 am.” You remembered the time from around half an hour ago. You didn’t want to risk looking now in case she’d tug your neck, or let go. “I think people start feeling loopy around this time.”

“Or it’s your bath.” Carol teased, though her eyes were serious. When you didn’t break eye contact, she sat up fully and tucked her knees to her chest to hide what little of herself she could. The soap clung to her body like a blanket but you could still see the majority of it. “I think it’s the bath.”

“It might be the bath.” You agreed breathlessly. Her hand ran up your neck to cup your cheek and you leaned into it. “I think I feel it too.”

“That’s good.” She leaned a little closer, now directly in front of you. “I’m not scaring you, am I?” You shook your head immediately and a flirty smile broke out across her face. “Good.”

Your eyes fell to her lips, then rose back to meet her piercing gaze. “...I think I’m going to need to paint you again.” You whispered.

Carol was confused by the change in topic, brows furrowing. “Why’s that? Is this one not good?”

“It’s beautiful.” You’d managed to capture her likeness almost to a T on the painting downstairs, even though it was just a sketch. “But I want one for myself.”

Finally, you’d managed to fluster Carol. Her already pink cheeks darkened and she let out a nervous chuckle. “You artists… always so bold.”

“I can be bolder.”

Carol’s eyes flashed with challenge, but you didn’t get to see it before your lips met. And by the time you pulled away, it was replaced with need and adoration. Her mouth hung slightly open, her whole body flushed. “Y/n…”

“Was that okay?”

“It was okay. But I’ve seen you do better.” Carol’s fingers found their way into your hair, twirling a lock around her pointer finger. “Kiss me again. I think I’ll like it a lot more.”

You had no choice but to fulfill her request. She seemed a bit more pleased, but requested it again, and again.

And by the time she’d finally upgraded your kiss to a ‘great’, half of your shirt was soaked from leaning over the tub. Carol ended up taking it off and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. She pulled away and glanced down at the tub.

“Perhaps we’ll have to do this in the other bathroom.” Her voice was soft against your skin. “The tubs bigger. I’m afraid we both wouldn’t fit in this one.”

You giggled. “That’s okay. I can wait.”

“I can’t…” Carol huffed. “Grab my towel, will you? I think my back is feeling better.”

That was a bit of a lie as she rose from the tub with a grunt, but ignored it. You helped her out and she dried herself off with the towel, though when you tried to leave the room, her fingers latched around her wrist.

“Stay, won’t you?” Carol flashed you a flirty, playful look, then cleared her throat and forced her smile away, though it didn’t leave her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get dressed on my own.” She added, as if you’d need another reason to stay.

You closed the bathroom door, made sure it was locked, then turned around as she dropped her towel.

#x reader #carol aird x y/n #carol aird x reader #carol #carol 2015 #carol aird #cate blanchett x reader #cate blanchett

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