#sorry i wanted to put the part 5 dance in but there was no gif for it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cleo-fox · 5 months ago

Text

Conquer

Part 3 of 5

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: The king intends to take a bride. You just never thought it would be you. (Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Chapter Summary: Loki proposes a challenge and your plan goes very awry.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, edging, teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, semi-public sex, light Dom/sub, light bondage, sex toys, oral sex (see series masterlist for series warnings)

A/N: Woof, sorry for the delay on this chapter. It was surprisingly challenging to write and it took me a minute to figure it out. But it's here! Lemme know what you think!

Loki only calls you ‘wife’ when he has sex on his mind—he knows it gets you riled up.

He doesn’t usually break it out at the breakfast table, though.

“I’ve noticed something, wife.” His eyes are glittering in a way that always signals he’s up to no good.

You cross one leg over the other and try to keep your expression neutral, even as your stomach jumps and your heart beats just a little faster. “What’s that?”

His gaze sweeps along your legs, the corner of his mouth twitching like he has a direct line to your thoughts. “You are an enthusiastic participant in our marital relations, but you rely entirely on me to initiate them.”

He waits a beat and your stomach drops. In retrospect, it was a bit silly to think he wouldn’t notice this. Loki always notices.

“Now, why is that?” he continues.

It’s a question that you don’t particularly want to answer. You suspect that he knows this, based on the laughter dancing in his eyes.

You clear your throat. “Maybe it’s because you unironically use phrases like ‘marital relations.’”

He taps a finger against his lips. “Interesting deflection.”

“It’s not a deflection.”

“You forget, my love, that I am the god of lies.”

You press your lips together and take a sip of water. “Have you considered that it’s maybe a little challenging being the soulmate of the guy who took over the planet?”

You expect him to be angry: you don’t expect the spectacular eye roll or the exaggerated sigh. “Are you really still upset about that?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Are you really going to pretend it wasn’t a big deal?”

“You can’t deny that things are much improved under my rule.” The way he says this suggests that he’s had a version of this conversation before. “Surely you’ve seen the statistics.”

“I’ve read your propaganda, yes,” you say, idly poking your fork at the fruit on your plate.

He scowls. “It’s not propaganda, it’s verifiable facts—”

“Conveniently hand-picked by your PR team. That’s kind of telling, if you ask me.”

He takes a deep breath, like he’s about to go into a lengthy monologue that he’s tired of having to recite, but as he looks at your face, his expression slowly changes from annoyed to something more amused. “You’re goading me.”

You shrug. “I’m just calling it as I see it.”

“Lies do not become you, wife.” His expression is sharp, but there’s a hungry kind of approval in his gaze that makes your stomach flip.

“I rather think you’re enjoying yourself, your majesty.”

You’ve only ever used his title sparingly—it’s his equivalent of calling you “wife” and it’s generally a surefire way to ensure that you end your conversation either underneath or on top of him.

For a moment, it seems like one of those outcomes might be in your immediate future—there’s a familiar glitter of hunger in his eyes as his gaze drops again to your legs.

He licks his lips. “One of these days, I will put you over my knee and punish you the way that you deserve.”

An electric kind of desire crackles through you as you contemplate the logistics of letting him fuck you on the breakfast table.

“But not today.”

Your gaze snaps immediately to his. He smirks like he knows that you were expecting this conversation to go in a very different direction.

“Today I’d like to propose a little experiment,” he continues.

You regard him warily. “What sort of experiment?”

“As I mentioned earlier, the burden of initiating our physical relations has fallen entirely on me.” He takes a sip of his water. “I am putting that burden on you for today.”

“So, what—we’re not having sex unless I start it?”

“Precisely. And you’re going to have to tell me exactly what you want in order to get it.”

Your heart pounds hard against your ribs, but you try to look completely unaffected as desire and annoyance wage yet another war inside you. “And what if I don’t feel like playing your stupid games?”

“You will.” He says it confidently as he glances at the clock. “I’ve business to attend to.” His smile is entirely too sharp as he rises from his chair. “I trust you’ll keep yourself occupied.”

You bite back a scowl as he leaves you alone with your thoughts and a dull, persistent ache throbbing between your legs.

The trouble is that initiating sex means admitting you want him.

Granted, you have begged for him many times during sex. But it’s one thing to admit that you want him when he’s been edging you for the better part of an hour; it's something else to admit to wanting him without that specific kind of pressure as a motivating factor. It requires acknowledging a vulnerability, something you are all too reluctant to do around Loki.

At first, you think you’ll just give up sex for the day. Worst case scenario: there’s no sex. Slightly better case scenario: he gives in out of sheer desperation and you get to have sex without admitting you want him. The second scenario seems most likely—if you had to pit your sex drive against his, you would wager that his is higher. It’s simple. Easy.

Later, you will acknowledge that this was perhaps slightly delusional on your part.

The fact that you didn’t really take into account is that your body is expecting sex. You’ve been getting it on the daily—often multiple times in one day—since your wedding. It probably should have occurred to you that quitting cold turkey would not go well.

Unfortunately, that seems to be a lesson that the universe is determined to make you learn through experience.

It’s early afternoon when you start to realize that you’re going to need a different plan. The dull ache between your legs has not abated and has instead turned into the kind of specific ache that you know you’re not going to be able to take care of on your own.

And if this were any other time, Loki probably would have already found some way to get you alone and mostly undressed—his ability to pick up on these moods of yours is keen to an inconvenient degree.

But there’s no sign of him today.

You pace your room for a while. The ache between your legs persists and you know if you don’t do something about it, it’s only going to get worse.

A plan slowly emerges in the heady haze of your slowly increasing desire. You could probably goad him into getting you off once or twice—enough to bring your desire to something more manageable. It wouldn’t be the same as sex, so you wouldn’t be admitting to any kind of vulnerability and it would clear your head enough to give you time to figure out the rest of the day.

Later, you will acknowledge that this was a very poorly thought out plan and doomed to failure from the start. Right now, though, it seems like a fine idea.

You put on a dress that you know he likes—a flowing green thing that clings to your breasts and hips in an appealing way. You don’t bother with underwear.

You’re not quite sure where he’s meeting or who’s in attendance, but that doesn’t worry you too much. You’ve found that your new status means that people don’t often question you, which makes it relatively easy to wander wherever you’d like.

You find him eventually in one of the rooms on the first floor, accompanied by an array of important looking people that you don’t recognize. His gaze finds you almost immediately, though he waits for a break in the conversation to address you.

“Darling, what a surprise.” The glimmer in his eyes tells you it is not at all a surprise.

“Sorry to interrupt.” You give the others an apologetic smile before glancing back at Loki. “I need to speak with you privately when you have a moment.”

“Of course, my love.” His eyes darken just a shade and your cunt pulses in a kind of answer. “Wait for me in the library and I’ll be with you shortly.”

You give him a perfunctory smile and stalk off to the library just a few doors down.

You can feel the slickness building between your legs, the muscles of your cunt flexing and aching in a blend of need and anticipation. There’s a couch by the window—that will suit your purposes well enough. You sit down and wait, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress.

You expect him to draw it out as long as possible, but he must be just as eager as you are because he strolls into the room five minutes later.

“What troubles you, darling?” His voice is gently mocking, his expression infuriatingly smug. He knows exactly why you’re here.

“Shut up,” you say through gritted teeth. “You know why I’m here, so let’s make it quick.”

“Oh, that’s not what we agreed on,” he purrs, eyes darkening with want as he approaches you. “You have to tell me what you want.”

As soon as he’s near enough, you tug him down to the couch and straddle his lap, guiding his hand up your skirt to your bare cunt. “I want you to make me come.”

You’re hoping that your boldness and lack of underwear will throw him off enough that he won’t notice that you’re being intentional with your wording and leaving yourself a very tidy out.

“Oh, darling, you’re soaking.” He drags his fingers along the length of your cunt, carefully circling your clit. “Poor thing, no wonder you’re so needy.”

You sigh, your hips rolling with his hand. “More.”

“Needy and greedy,” he muses, sliding a finger inside you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I love it when you’re like this.”

He pulls you into a deep kiss, tongue pressing into your mouth, tangling with yours. You moan, rocking your hips against his hand as he slips a second finger inside you.

“You need me, don’t you?” he breathes against your lips. “No one else makes you feel like this. Even when you touch yourself, your fingers can’t quite reach this little spot the way I can.” His fingers curl, pressing hard against that soft, aching spot that has been throbbing all day. You keen, fingernails digging into the leather on his shoulders as your hips grind against his hand.

“Yes, just like that,” you gasp.

“You need me so badly that you can’t even manage a full day without my touch.” His thumb presses just a little harder on your clit. “And interrupting a meeting of global importance to beg me to fuck you in the library where anyone might walk in—”

You’re entering the final stretch right before your orgasm and you can tell that it’s going to be good—the pressure inside you is too intense for it not to be.

And then Loki decides to up the ante.

“It just goes to show how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

It’s like trying to douse a fire with gasoline.

Loki’s fingers curl again and your mouth goes slack as you let out a low whimper.

“I know that noise.” His smile is hungry. “You’re about to come for me.”

You nod, rolling your hips in time with the wave that’s rising within you.

“Let me hear you.” He leans in and nips sharply at your earlobe. “Scream for me.”

It’s like being hit by a hurricane. You are dimly aware that you’re moaning loud enough to be heard unless he’s been a gentleman and cast a silencing spell on the room, but your capacity to care about anything other than the euphoria flooding your entire nervous system is somewhere below zero.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs, as he works you through it. “So fucking filthy,”

You’d intended to make your exit quickly, but you didn’t bank on how good his fingers would feel or how easily he’d be able to coax you to another orgasm. You claw desperately at his chest, and he gives you a self-satisfied smirk.

“What? Another one so soon?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock concern. “Is your poor little cunt really so needy?”

“Don’t stop.” Your voice comes out in a whine, but you don’t care. You can’t care about anything other than the rising pressure in your hips and the way your clit is thrumming with pleasure.

“Oh, I’m not going to stop until I’ve thoroughly claimed this sweet cunt.”

“Yes. Fuck.” You hold your breath as your orgasm makes its final ascent.

“That’s it.” His eyes are shining. “Come for me.”

The second one hits you just as hard and then blends almost seamlessly into a third that makes stars burst behind your eyelids and your thighs tremble. You lean into him, gasping and panting as he murmurs more filthy praise in your ear.

But you snap back to reality when he reaches for the buttons of your dress. You need to move quickly if you want your plan to work and you know that if he manages to get his cock out, it’s all over for you.

“Shall I take you on the desk?” He slips the first button, staring greedily at the exposed skin. “Or against that window?”

Both options sound too appealing, but you’re not going to tell him that. You reluctantly pull away from him and stand on legs that are much too wobbly. Remember the plan. Focus.

For once in his life, Loki looks a little baffled.

“Well,” you say, making a rather sad attempt to straighten your dress. “Would you look at the time.”

His eyes narrow almost immediately. “What are you playing at?”

“Nothing,” you say brightly. “I just didn’t realize it was so late and I don’t want to keep you from your meeting.”

He catches on right away—you can tell from the glint in his eyes and the slight twitch of his lips. He seems conflicted about how he feels about it, though, which you’re not expecting. There’s annoyance, certainly—that was always a given—but there’s also a kind of hungry delight, almost like you’d surprised him a little.

Almost like he finds it…attractive.

You weren’t expecting that at all.

He stands slowly, his gaze traveling shamelessly up and down your body, bringing still more slickness to your cunt.

“You may come to regret this little stunt, my love.” His voice is deadly soft and you’re reminded suddenly of a shark considering his prey. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Perhaps you should have negotiated more favorable terms this morning.” Your voice is calm and cool, but there’s an inferno of desire blazing inside you.

“I think I will particularly enjoy silencing that smart mouth later tonight,” he says, eyeing the open button on your dress.

“If I allow it.” You smile sweetly at him as his expression darkens even further. “After all, you did put that burden on me for today, your majesty. And I did only say that I wanted you to make me come, which you have.”

The look that he gives you is lustful in a way you’ve never seen from him before. Your cunt clenches tightly around nothing and suddenly the relief that you’d just found from his fingers doesn’t seem anywhere near enough.

And if you don’t get out of here soon, your entire plan will go up in flames in favor of riding his cock until you both collapse.

“I’ll take my leave,” you say, buttoning your dress.

His gaze trails possessively over your body. “Yes, you’ll want to rest up—I suspect you’ll be begging me to claim my prize by the time I return to our rooms.”

“We’ll see.” There’s no conviction in your voice and you can tell that he hears it, so you turn quickly on your heel and leave with a mumbled goodbye before he can convince you to change your mind.

This entire episode has given you new insight into why Loki is like this as his default. The control is heady and intoxicating and your head fizzes like you’ve drunk too much champagne. You feel sexy and desirable. Powerful. You think of him quietly stewing away in his meeting downstairs, plagued by thoughts of you and trying to hide it from the others. You think of him storming upstairs, control fraying, his cock rock hard and aching for you. You think about what he’ll do to you as payback for leaving him wanting.

The entire purpose of this exercise was to find an outlet for your arousal and clear your head; instead, you find that you’re hornier than you were before the library.

Your entire plan has failed rather spectacularly, but you can’t convince yourself to be mad about it.

The hours pass slowly. You’re not sure if he’s intentionally delaying his return or if he’s genuinely busy—either way, it does you no favors. You try reading, but you end up rereading the same paragraph and thinking about sex instead of following the story. As afternoon fades into evening, you undress and don a silk robe. The fabric whispers against your skin, only heightening your arousal.

The sun is almost fully set when you hear the door open and the heavy tread of familiar boots on the floor. You stay seated on the couch, staring out the floor to ceiling window, waiting.

“I suppose you think you’re very clever.”

Goosebumps spring up along the column of your spine. His voice is low and stern, his presence already commanding. Slickness floods your cunt in anticipation. You slowly turn to face him, your chin tilted up in slight defiance.

“I consider it appropriate payback for the gala,” you say.

He raises an eyebrow as he continues to walk closer. “And do you recall how hard you came after the gala?”

You mirror his skeptical expression. “Then wouldn’t I be doing you a favor by teasing you like this if it means you come harder later?”

The look he gives you is intoxicating. “You are disobedient and impertinent.”

You smirk. “And you love it.”

“Not as much as I love putting you back in line.”

You stand and walk toward him, stopping a few inches away. “Then why don’t you?”

He chuckles low in his throat. “You know that’s not what we agreed to, my love. The move is yours.”

Privately, you’re delighted that he seems prepared to continue to play the game.

“I didn’t take you to be so passive,” —you pause and lick your lips— “your majesty.”

Perhaps more extraordinary than the fire in his eyes is his stillness—save for the tight clench of his jaw and his sharp intake of breath, he is completely motionless as his eyes tell the story of a man who is barely holding himself back from his greatest desire.

“I’m a man of my word,” he says, finally.

You huff out a soft laugh. “Are you?” You lick your lips. “Perhaps I should test that.”

You pull the sash of your robe and let it fall from your shoulders to your feet in a heap. You stand in front of him, completely naked. His eyes devour you and his fingers flex against his thighs like he’s barely holding back from touching you.

“Still a man of your word?” you ask, your eyes wide and innocent.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. “Yes.”

You nod thoughtfully. “I see.”

And then you slowly sink to your knees.

You look up at him with wide eyes. “What about now?”

“Yes.” There’s a dark rasp in his voice and his fingers are tensed like claws against his thighs.

You’re getting to him. You love it.

You take your time undoing his trousers, letting your fingers graze against the hard length of his erection whenever the opportunity presents itself. You almost feel a little bad when you finally free his cock—he is desperately hard, the flushed and engorged tip already slick with precome.

“Oh, have you been like this all afternoon?” you say casually. “Poor thing.”

“Watch your tone,” he says sharply.

“I suppose that was rather inconsiderate of me to just leave you like that,” you muse, taking his cock in your hand and reveling in his sharp exhale and the way he throbs hot and hard as you begin to stroke him. “I didn’t realize you’d be so hard.”

“You are playing with fire, my love.” His voice is rough and husky with wanting.

“I don’t think it’s wrong to make you work for it.”

“You would dare to give orders to a king?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Am I not your queen?”

“My queen does not command me.”

Early on, you might have been intimidated by the hunger in his eyes and the sternness in his voice, but now you can’t help but find it arousing. Somewhere along the way, pushing him to his limit became like a drug and now you can’t get enough.

“And why not, your majesty?” you say, gently squeezing his shaft as you stroke him. “You tease me like this all the time. Isn't it only fair for me to have a turn?”

“I don’t need to justify myself. I’m king.” He says this with authority, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his expression neutral. There’s a catch in his voice and his eyes flutter shut for a moment as his hips rock into your hand.

You look up at him again. “Perhaps you ought to,” you say. “Seeing as I’m currently holding your fate in my hands.”

He gives you a smirk that is entirely too confident for your liking. “I think you’re underestimating my resilience.”

You bring your lips up to the head of his cock, letting the very tip of your tongue brush against it. He inhales sharply.

“Am I?” you say, punctuating the question with a second featherlight kiss against his cock. “I’m not sure that you’ve considered all the tools I have at my disposal.”

He stares down at you imperiously and you return his look with wide, innocent eyes as you part your lips and take him into your mouth, slowly swirling your tongue around the head of his cock in a way that you know he enjoys. His fingers flex against his thighs and you hum as the sharp taste of his precome glides over your tongue.

“You are a wicked, disobedient tease,” he growls, one hand sliding down to cradle the back of your head. “And you don’t even care, do you? You just want to get those pretty lips around my cock.”

You draw back slightly to look up at him. “You could stand to be more flattering if you want me to let you come in my mouth.”

He chuckles, eyes darkening with want. “Is it not flattering to say that your mouth makes me forget myself?”

You press a kiss to the tip of his cock, letting your tongue flick against it, but not quite bringing him back into your mouth. “It’s a start.”

“You don’t know what effect you have on me, do you?” His hand strokes your cheek as you continue lazily kissing his cock.

“You certainly do your best to act annoyed with me.”

He laughs, a low, throaty sound. “Oh, half the fun of these little games are your attempts to outwit me. Chaos and schemes only add to my power, but when you are the perpetrator?” He gives you a long, hungry look. “That makes me rock hard.”

Your breath catches slightly as you stroke your tongue over the tip of his cock. “Keep talking.”

“I spent the rest of that meeting driven to utter distraction because I could not stop thinking about how good it was going to feel to sink my cock into your dripping cunt.”

You gently suck the tip of his cock into your mouth and release it.

“And then I come back here and you mouth off at me, strip, and get on your knees to suck my cock.” He hisses slightly as you tease the head of his cock with the very tip of your tongue.

“Are you going to beg for me, Loki?” You press a soft kiss against his cock.

“A god doesn’t beg,” he says hoarsely.

“But you could,” you say softly, teasing the tip of his cock again.

“You may force me to reconsider that notion, yes.”

“Do you want me to suck your cock, Loki?” you ask in that same soft voice. “Do you want to come in my mouth?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Yes.”

You intended to hold out for longer, but you didn’t expect him to say…well, any of that, really. And the other, less convenient reality is that your ability to deny yourself the pleasure of his body and touch is eroding well past the point of resistance. You’ve waited long enough. You want him.

You take his cock fully into your mouth and begin to move.

Loki groans, his eyes half lidded and lips parted as he looks down at you. “Fuck, you’re divine. I’m going to worship your cunt after this.”

You moan on his cock, widening your legs slightly. You slip your fingers between your legs, letting your index finger roll against your aching clit.

Loki stares down at you with a renewed hunger. “Are you touching yourself?”

You moan an affirmative, your fingers moving faster on your clit as you suck harder on his cock.

“Filthy girl.” His hand grips the back of your head, his hips jerking slightly. “After this, I’m going to make you come harder than you did after the gala. I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name.”

You moan again on his cock, flicking your tongue over the tip on every upstroke, making his grip on your head tighten. Your jaw starts to ache after a few minutes, but the little noises he’s making are so worth it. Your cunt keeps getting slicker and slicker under your fingers and you feel yourself starting to edge closer to your own end.

“Fuck.” Loki is panting, his composure completely lost. “If you keep—fuck—I’m so fucking close—”

You could be cruel and make him wait, but he’s so beautiful with his head thrown back and his green eyes fluttering shut against the wave of pleasure you’re building for him that you can’t help but want to give him everything. You hollow your cheeks and take him as deep as you can.

His hand tightens against your scalp and he groans deeply as his hot release fills your mouth. You swallow it greedily, slowing to a halt.

The moment you take your mouth off his cock, he’s pulling you to your feet and holding you flush against him, his mouth covering yours in a deep and slow kiss.

Something about kissing him seems to emphasize the building need of your own body. “Fuck me, Loki.” You breathe your plea against his lips, twining your fingers in his hair. “I need you.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little before sweeping you into his arms and carrying you purposefully toward the bed.

He sets you down on the bed and you expect him to follow you immediately, pressing his body against yours. Instead, invisible bonds curl around your wrists and ankles, gently tugging until you’re spread eagled on the bed. You barely repress a shiver as he kneels next to you. He means business and historically, that’s always ended quite well for you.

There’s a flash of green and a slim vibrator materializes in his hands. He runs the head of it gently along your exposed cunt, pausing just above your clit.

And it’s not until you feel the same invisible bonds wind around your hips to hold the vibrator in place that you realize that this is not going the way you thought.

As though he can read your thoughts, Loki glances at the clock. “Oh, dear, is that really the time?” he says lazily, his mouth curling into a sly smile.

“You wouldn’t,” you say, your heart pounding hard because of course he would.

“I’m afraid I can’t miss this meeting. Shouldn’t be more than an hour, though.”

“Loki—”

He clicks his fingers and the vibrator hums to life, close enough to your clit to stoke the flames of desire, but not close or strong enough to get you over the edge.

“I hate you,” you groan, rocking your hips up, searching for relief. “You are the worst.”

“Oh, I certainly hope your attitude improves by the time I return,” he tuts as he tucks his cock back into his trousers. “It’d be a shame if you had to wait even longer.”

“You said you liked it when I tried to outwit you.”

He chuckles, leaning in close enough to kiss you. “I do. I like seeing how clever you are and I love carrying out consequences.”

You scowl. “You’re awful.”

He smirks and kisses you, drawing back before you can try to pull him deeper. “Be good. I’ve heard that good things come to those who wait.”

“Loki—”

He casts one last smug look at you before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

He’s gone for a little over an hour, but it feels like an eternity.

The vibrator is enough to keep you wet and aching, but not enough to get you off. The bonds are comfortable, but there doesn’t seem to be any give that would allow you to wiggle out or adjust the vibrator, no matter how much you writhe against the mattress. Sometimes, the intensity seems to increase just slightly and you thrust your hips forward, trying to get more, only to have it diminish just as quickly.

It’s agonizing, certainly, but you know that the payoff is going to be nothing short of spectacular. And privately…you kind of like it, though you’ll never admit that to him.

You’re not quite sure if you should act relieved or annoyed when Loki returns, so you end up settling on a strange combination of both when the door finally clicks open and he walks in smirking.

“Well,” he says far too brightly for your liking, “have you learned your lesson?”

“Yeah, to check your schedule before I try something like that again,” you say before you can really think it through.

He tuts, lips pursing as he frowns. “Ooh, there’s that attitude again. Shall I leave you for another hour?”

You shut your mouth and look away, not quite able to hide your scowl. “No.”

He chuckles. “I thought so.”

He sits down on the bed next to you and runs his fingers along your cunt, his smile turning wicked. “I see that you enjoyed the little toy. You’re so much wetter than when I left you.”

Your scowl deepens. “Because you’ve been teasing me for an hour!”

“Teasing you?” He scoffs. “Nonsense. I left it running for an hour, you should be quite satisfied.”

“You know full well that you left it on the lowest speed and barely touching my clit.”

His eyes glimmer in the way that they often do when you've strolled right into his trap. “Ah, I see. So you needed something a little more like this.”

He places the vibrator firmly against your clit and the faint hum suddenly accelerates to a steady, throbbing pulse that immediately draws a strangled moan from your throat.

“And perhaps a little of this—” He slides two fingers inside of you and your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense sensation.

“Oh fuck.” Any notion you had of acting aloof and cool has evaporated. Your body warms to him too quickly, too naturally. A casual stroke of his fingers has you arching into his touch, a whimper trapped in your throat.

“Oh dear,” he says, almost nonchalantly. “You seem to be reacting quite strongly. Are you sure I should continue?”

“Please don’t stop.” You say it all in a rush, like it’s one long word.

“Don’t stop?”

“Don’t stop. Please.” You whimper, your hips rolling so that your clit rubs right against the vibrator. Loki’s fingers curl and you arch as something completely unintelligible comes out of your mouth.

“You need this. You’ve needed this all day.” His eyes shine as his fingers thrust faster. “But not as much as you need my cock. You’re desperate for my cock.”

You nod, half lost to pleasure.

“You’ve been such a tease. Such a fucking brat.” The vibrator’s speed increases and you whine. “I ought to punish you, remind you who’s in charge. Make you get on your knees and beg and still leave you wanting for release.”

You whimper, now so deliciously close that you’re starting to shake.

“Luckily for you,” he says, “I have been thinking of you coming all over my cock for hours. So instead of leaving you wanting, I’m going to fuck you until you’ve milked every drop from my cock and you’re going to take it all like a good girl.” His eyes darken. “Now come for me before I change my mind.”

You don’t need to be told twice—you barely need to be told once. The muscles of your cunt flutter against his thrusting fingers and then your orgasm unfurls.

It’s spectacular, setting off a chain reaction of pleasure on every nerve ending, your body shaking as you cry out.

“There you go.” His gaze is hungry, roving over your body, the god of your undoing. He presses the vibrator just a little harder against your clit and you feel that familiar ache stir again just below your belly.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe.

“You’re going to come again, aren’t you?” He’s smirking, but there’s a flicker of awe in his expression, like he can’t quite believe his luck. “Once wasn’t enough for you. You need to come again like the greedy little slut that you are.”

The sparks inside you are fluttering and flickering again, until they catch and send you soaring back into the stratosphere. Your back bows and you cry out as you come.

You’re still shaking when he crawls between your legs moments later, peppering your thighs with messy kisses and spreading your cunt open. The bonds on your wrists and ankles release the moment his mouth touches your cunt and you bury your hands in his hair. You moan as he circles and sucks at your clit and his fingers thrust inside of you.

You look at him nestled between your legs, eyes glazed with desire and it almost sends you over the edge.

“God, I love your mouth,” you blurt out before you can think about it. “You’re so good at this, it feels so fucking good—”

You’re not sure if it’s the praise or his talent, but the moment you say that, your orgasm begins to crest.

“Fuck, Loki. Fuck, I’m gonna—oh fuck.”

It bursts like a firework and courses through your body like liquid gold, somehow simultaneously frantic and leisurely. You’re dimly aware that you’re moaning with every shuddering roll of your body, praising his mouth and tongue in a way that you know will embarrass you later.

“I told you it would be worth it,” he says after he coaxes the last shudder from you a few minutes later. “I don’t think I’ve heard you scream like that before.”

You don’t even bother opening your eyes. “Bragging is an unattractive quality.”

He tuts. “There’s that attitude again. You know, you’re lucky I didn’t deny you after all your teasing and backtalk.”

You look up at him, eyes hazy. “You like making me come too much to follow through on that.”

He chuckles darkly. “That mouth is going to get you in trouble, wife.”

Sated as you are, the name still lights that spark in your belly. “If you say so, your majesty.”

Within seconds, he’s on you, mouth plundering yours. Your hands fumble with the buckles and clasps on his clothes.

“Help me out,” you say, shoving his surcoat off his shoulders.

“What was it you said earlier?” He smirks and rolls you both over so he’s on his back. “Ah, yes: work for it.”

You scowl and tug at the fabric. You could just undo his belt and take out his cock, but it’s not enough. You need to feel all of him, need the heat of his skin on yours as he presses inside you.

“You are such an ass.” You yank his shirt over his head.

He laughs. “You want me so badly, you’re shaking.”

He’s right, but you’re not going to concede it. “You want me just as bad. You’ve been holding back from me all day and you can’t stand it. You're desperate to be inside me.

His gaze darkens, but he flicks his wrist and you feel the fabric vanish beneath you.

“Well played, wife,” he says, propping himself up against the headboard. “Now ride me and show me why you deserve to come on my cock.”

You straddle his lap, guiding him to your entrance. “Oh, stop it. We both know you fucking love it when I come on your cock.”

You sink down on him and you both groan. After an extended day of teasing and delays, he cock feels like it’s pressing against every aching part inside of you, soothing a need you’ve felt all day. He nuzzles his face against your neck, nipping at the tender skin of your pulse point. His hands map the expanse of your back and skim down your hips to squeeze your ass.

His hips rock incrementally against you. He wants you to move, to fuck him, and for a moment, you feel drunk on the power.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and raise yourself up on his cock before sinking back down. Your pace is glacial, designed to tease, to drive him wild.

But on the third stroke, he smacks your ass, eyes blazing. “I said ride me.”

It sets off something inside you and you increase your pace before you can second guess it. You catch a glimpse of a feral smile before he pulls you into a rough kiss as you sink back down on him. Your teeth bump against his and you nip hard at his lower lip, which only seems to egg him on.

You’re supposed to be riding him, but his hips are driving up into you just as hard, his firm grip urging you on. Your head tips back as the pressure inside you continues to build. His head dips to your neck, teeth scraping along your collarbone and then down to your breast. He laves his tongue over your nipple and it plucks at the winding coil of pleasure in your hips, your cunt squeezing tighter and tighter on his cock. You whimper and he takes the bud of your nipple between his teeth and tugs ever so slightly.

Your cunt clenches as you creep closer to the edge. He lets out a sharp breath through his teeth as he starts approaching his own end.

“Fuck—”

With a snarl, he flips you to your back in one fluid motion, draping your legs over his broad shoulders. His pace turns rough and a little frantic but he’s hitting a spot that makes your toes curl and your pleas turn even more desperate.

“Fuck—please, please, please—”

His eyes are wild. “Show me what I’ve been missing all day. Let me feel you come. Soak my cock like a good girl.”

His fingers find your clit and suddenly, the rising sensation within you is blossoming into something more akin to a supernova. His hips snap hard against you and the feeling inside you swells and then shatters.

You are vaguely aware that you’re shouting his name as you quake in his arms and your cunt clenches around his cock. Loki moans above you, his jaw going slack and his brow furrowing, his pace slowing slightly like he’s trying to hold back, trying to make it last.

But another wave rolls through you and he shudders and before you can think about it, you’re slipping your legs off his shoulders and around his waist so you can pull him close.

“Come for me.” You whisper it like it’s a secret and he kisses you like he hears. His hips snap hard against you and then he’s kissing you in between Asgardian words you don’t recognize and words that might be your name until it all dissolves into a long groan that he breathes against your lips as he comes so hard that he shakes.

It’s a long moment before he finally eases out and tonight he gives you a long and lingering kiss before he does. Your legs shake as you lie panting on the bed, listening to him shuffle around the room. He must be getting ready for bed.

You always hate this part. It’s not that you expect or even want affection from him, but sometimes it seems so…businesslike, so transactional. Surely it’s not strange to wish it could be something more, even though it can’t be.

“Sit up.”

You turn your head to look at him, fully prepared to lay into him for telling you what to do, but instead, you find him standing at the side of the bed with a full glass of water.

Something inside you softens just a little.

“Oh, I’m okay,” you say. “It was just really intense.”

He gives you a dry look. “Humor me.”

Any other time, you might have shot back a sarcastic reply, but there’s something strangely disarming about seeing him standing there buck naked and offering you water. And maybe that little ache of loneliness you felt earlier has made you a little soft.

You sit up and take the glass from him. “Thanks.”

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed. “I’ve sent for dinner as well,” he says, absently tracing a finger along your spine. “It’s quite late.”

You take a sip of water. “Do I have to get out of bed for it?”

“So long as you keep the crumbs to your side.”

You wave your hand at him. “You can magic them away.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not a circus pony.”

You give him a dry look. “What’s the point of having magic if you can’t use it to spoil your wife?”

He chuckles and presses a kiss against your shoulder. “Have I not spoiled you enough already today?”

“That stunt with the vibrator was pretty rude.”

He scoffs. “No more rude than getting off on my fingers and leaving me in a meeting for four hours.”

You lean against him and he drapes an arm around your waist. “You of all people should know that turnabout is fair play.”

You’re teasing each other, you realize. It strikes you as a quaintly domestic scene—a couple tangled up together and talking after sex. It’s…kind of nice, in an odd way.

Almost normal.

Much later, when he’s curled up behind you in bed and the lights are out, he asks a question that you suspect has been on his mind all evening: “What did you think of our experiment?”

You know there’s a reason why he waited until now to ask you this. You can hear it in the careful way he’s asking, how he’s trying to hide that little note of hope.

The urge to be sarcastic or sharp is suspiciously absent.

“Well,” you say, letting the word hang there in the dark for just a moment. “My legs still feel like jello. Kind of hard to argue with those results.”

It’s only when you feel him relax that you realize he was bracing himself for something sharper. The thought stops you. You’d never thought anything you said mattered to him like that.

“Perhaps it’s an experiment we ought to repeat.” He says it casually, but there’s a subtle note of hope that sparks a strange feeling of sympathy.

You nod before you can talk yourself out of it. “Yeah.” The silence prickles at you in a way it never has before. “Maybe Tuesdays, if that works?”

He’s trying to hide it, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “As her majesty commands.”

Next chapter coming soon

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction #conquer

714 notes · View notes

rowdyluv · 22 days ago

Note

CONGRATS ON A DESERVED 600 CAAAYYY <3333 KEEP SLAYING!! This next bit will come as unsurprising but I literally fought my demons between size and spit,

Luke, prompt J, she/her

THANK YOU PRETTY LADY <333

thank you sweet meg for being such a wonderful trooper and sticking it out FIVE months for this.. we’re now at 8 0 0 amazing followers

THE EVEN BIGGER DEAL YOUR BIRTHDAY WEEKEND!!! RAHHHH

with out further delay I present you….

warnings: SMUT, porn without plot, (<- more or less left the plot behind), spit kink, sprinkle in size kink, sorry you waited 5 months for THIS, MDNI, 18+!!

The evening had settled into the comfortable lull that only a good movie and a shared bowl of popcorn could bring. The lights were dim, the TV screen flickered with the latest blockbuster, and the couch cushions had molded perfectly to their bodies. Luke's hand, which had been mindlessly tracing patterns on Y/n's waist, grew bolder, slipping under the hem of her oversized (his) shirt. His touch grew more deliberate, his rough, calloused fingertips grazing up and down her smooth skin.

Y/n felt a warm shiver run through her as Luke's arm tightened around her, pulling her closer into his embrace. His movements grew more purposeful, the brushes against her abdomen now a gentle but firm guide that led to her breasts. Her nipples pebbled desperately, seeking more of his touch.

“Luke.” She whispered breathlessly. He smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing, and took a greedy handful of her breast. His thumb circled the erect peak, teasing and taunting, as she arched into his touch with a quiet gasp.

Their eyes met, the air around them crackling with a newfound intensity. Luke leaned in, his warm breath fanning over her face, and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped between her lips, mimicking the actions of his hand, as he explored her mouth with a passion that was growing more feverish by the second. She moaned into the kiss, her hand reaching up to tangle in his hair, her other hand sliding down to grip his thigh, feeling the growing bulge beneath his sweatpants.

Her nails dug into his flesh, sending a thrill through him. He pulled away briefly, his eyes dark with desire, and whispered, "Is this okay?" She nodded fervently, her eyes never leaving his eyes, and that was all the permission he needed. His hand traveled back up her body, scrunching her t-shirt as he moved, his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps as they approached her chest. This time, his touch was more deliberate, his palm flattening over her breast, his thumb now pressing firmly against her nipple, eliciting a gasp from her parted lips.

Their kiss grew more heated, tongues dancing together as their breaths melded. The sound of fabric tearing echoed in the quiet room as Luke roughly pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her bare breasts to the cool air. He took one in his mouth, sucking and biting gently, his hand mauling the other as if he couldn't get enough.

Y/n's nails scored down his back, her breath coming in panting gasps as he worked her into a frenzy. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her neck, and she felt her core clench with anticipation. The friction between her thighs grew unbearable, and she reached down to untie his sweatpants, freeing his hard cock.

A sight that never failed to take her breath away. Long, thick, and pulsing with need. She wrapped her hands around him, feeling his size in her palms, and he groaned into her ear. “Fuck. Always forget how small your hands are. Having to use both.” His hips jerked. “S’small. All for me. All mine”

Y/n smirked, stroking him gently from base to tip. She felt his breath hitch, and his grip on her breasts tightened. The pressure was exquisite, a delicious ache that made her wetter. “Want me to put it in my mouth?” She asked, voice low and teasing.

“N-No. Not tonight. I want you to feel me here.” He stutters on his words as she continues stroking him. He presses against her stomach to show where he's going to fuck up inside her.

He kissed her again, deep and hungry, before moving her onto her back and sliding her shorts off. He kisses her stomach and thighs, working his way down to her panties. He hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls them down, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. She's already soaking wet, and the sweet smell of her arousal fills the room.

With a wicked smile, Luke hoists one of Y/n's legs up onto his shoulder, giving him the perfect angle to look at her glistening pussy. He spits directly onto her clit, watching as the saliva runs down her slit. Her eyes widen, and she gasps at the sudden wetness and the feel of his saliva on her most sensitive spot. He takes his time, savoring the moment, before he rubs the wad of spit the blunt head of his cock.

Her body trembles with anticipation as he lines himself up with her entrance, the saliva mixing with her slick, acting as a lubricant for what's to come. He nudges her opening with the tip of his dick, spreading her lips apart as he pushes in. Y/n's eyes roll back in her head as she feels the pressure build, her walls stretching to accommodate his large size.

He groans with satisfaction as he sinks in deeper, the wetness from her arousal mixing with his saliva, creating a sloppy, needy sound with each thrust.

“Fuck, you feel..” He zones out, moans taking over his words.

Y/n's nails dig into the couch as he starts to thrust, filling her with each stroke. The sensation of his spit mixing with her wetness and the feel of his cock stretching her out is almost too much to handle. She’s so wet that his movements are slick, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room.

With a growl, Luke takes her hand and presses it firmly against her lower abdomen. She feels the pressure build with every thrust, his cock pushing into her deep, and she knows he's enjoying the way her stomach bulges with his size. "Who fills you up like this?" he asks, his voice a gruff whisper in the dark.

Y/n can only whimper in response, and the sensation is too intense for words. The feeling of his cock stretching her, combined with the pressure from her hand, sends waves of pleasure through Y/n’s body. She clenches around him, her pussy tightening, and he groans out.

“No one else.” She manages in broken words.

“Damn right,” Luke grumbles.

He grabs hold of her face and makes her look at him. He squeezes her jaw, signaling her to open her mouth, and she does. “This pussy, this heart, this..” He pauses by dropping a wad of spit into her mouth. “All belong to me. Now and forever.”

The salty liquid pools in her mouth, and she swallows it down, the act sending a shock of arousal through her. She nods, eyes wide with need.

"Mm, that's right," Luke murmurs, his hips moving faster. "You love this, don't you? Being filled with me, being claimed by me."

Y/n nods, unable to form coherent words, as she feels the orgasm building. The realization of him sharing his kinks, the pressure from his cock, and the newfound dominance in his voice are too much for her. Her body starts to spasm, her muscles tightening around him, and she comes hard, her juices mixing around his dick.

The sensation is intense, and Luke feels her pussy squeezing him tightly as she cums. It's a feeling that sends him over the edge, and with a loud moan of her name, he empties himself into her, his cock pulsing as he fills her.

#cay chats✿#cay writes #: ̗̀➛meg✨#luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x yn #lh43 #lh43 x reader #lh43 smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEG!!!!

245 notes · View notes

at-this-point-i-dont-even-know · 2 months ago

Text

Lean On Me (Part 5/7)

Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby" Robinavitch x younger! Langdon's little sister! reader

A conversation that needs to be had, is had....

Warnings: casual drinking, work in a strip club, general lack of clothing in the workplace slow burn

(I know nothing about working in a strip club, so this is all based off media representations, sorry for any mistakes)

part four / part six

taglist: @dayswithoutcoffee, @hagarsays, @4ishere, @omgbrianab, antisocialfiore, eugene-emt-roe

“Michael what the fuck!” you hiss, ripping your arm from his grasp as soon as the door slammed shut.

You clock your colleague Holly marching towards you, with a baseball bat raised high.

“It's okay! He’s my-”

“Boyfriend?”

“Friend!”

Holly puts the bat down and smiles at Michael, who's still glaring at you. He runs his hands through his hair, and his breathing is heavy. You know whatever conversation that was about to happen could not happen in the change rooms.

“Holly, can you watch my section for a minute,” you say a lot calmer than you feel, “I’m going to take Dog and him,” pointing at Michael, “outside for some air.”

Holly agrees because of course she does. You two have been at this club for years together, she was a single mum of two, who's been caught dancing by many ex-boyfriends, she knew what conversation was about to be had.

Not that Michael is your boyfriend.

Dog is sitting patiently under one of the makeup desks, her tail wagging as she watches you pick up her lead.

“You bring your dog to this place.”

It's the first words Michael has said all evening and you turn to him, all fake smiles gone.

“Of course I do! I work 10 hour shifts some days, I can’t leave a dog in Frank's apartment for half the day!”

Michael says nothing, but ever the gentleman, he holds open the backroom door for you as you and Dog wander into the alley way.

The back alley behind the bar is as safe as any place can be in Pittsburgh after dark, it has two large gates on either end and only staff at the club know the combinations to the locks. It was where you have spent a lot of time either chain smoking when you were young, or internally screaming as you got older.

You let Dog off the lead, who trots off to do her business and turn to look at Michael, who was looking around the alley, his brows raised. You could still feel the anger coming off him.

“So?” you start, crossing your arms until you realise all that's done is press your tits up and make them even more obvious to the red faced doctor.

“You’re a stripper.”

“Waitress technically- I lost my spot on the stage when I went to Europe.”

“Why?”

“Why did I lose my spot or why am I here?”

He rolled his eyes, “Why are you here?”

“Oh I just love getting my breasts out for random strangers.” the sarcasm drips from your mouth, you can’t help it.

“Sweethea-”

“No Sweetheart! No! You can’t just walk into a stripclub, then get mad when a woman has her tits out!”

“I didn’t want to come to a strip club.” he said weakly, his own argument falling flat.

“Oh your old mate Jack just pulled you in here under protest?”

“Well-”

“What are you really mad about, Dr Robinavitch?” he flinches at the formal name and you can’t help but smirk.

“Why are you here?”

“Money.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, I make more here in one night than I would in a week somewhere else. It's good, fast money!”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you need to make fast money?”

The question has you laughing, maybe not with humour but with amusement. Dog wanders off as you drop her lead to gather yourself.

“Why? Why do I need money? Oh I don’t know, maybe because my big brother is in rehab? Or because my parents are in a facility that has exorbitant bills their pension doesn’t cover? Rent? Vet bills? I’ve maxed out four credit cards since I have gotten back, so those need to be paid off as well? How else should I make my money, Dr Robinavitch?”

He’s silent, and the rage has simmered behind his eyes but his hands flexed between open and fists as if trying to ground himself.

“What about your degree?” he said, each word a challenge.

“What degree?” you huff, “I dropped out of school at fifteen.”

The rage rose again as he took in your words.

“What?”

You move to lean against the wall of the club, it was cool (and a little gross) against your exposed skin.

“My dads a high functioning alcoholic and my mum- my mum is a self centred bitch who only cares about two things, my dad and Frank.I was an unhappy accident.” You close your eyes, you haven’t admitted any of this to anyone, ever, “Dad lost his job when I was fourteen, Frank was fifteen, and the bills started the pile up. Sacrifices had to be made, and that included my dance classes which I was mad about but I was told by my mother, young ladies do not complain. Then dad got a new job and it was okay for a few months but he hurt himself and ended up on workers comp. Then the bills piled up again and mum sat me down and told me that I needed to pull my weight around the house.”

“What about Frank?”

“Frank was top of his class in everything, he was on the football team and looking at a scholarship to any college he wanted. I was not doing so well in any of my classes, which got worse when I started working at the local diner every night. We chatted about it but he didn’t want to drop out of school so it was decided, I would.”

“That's not fair.” Michael said and when you opened your eyes he was in front of you, his hands on your face, tilting your head up so you could look him in the eye.

“You shouldn’t have been saddled with that.”

You lean into his touch, and feel his breath on your face. It would take only a moment to breach the distance between you. You could almost taste him on your lips as you look him in his eyes.

The anger is still there, seething behind the golden brown colour but you can see something else there as he looks from your eyes to your lips.

You need to break the moment before you kiss him in the alley.

It was a cliché to kiss someone outside of the club in this alley, plus your boss had cameras rigged out here 'for your safety'.

“But I was. I left school and started odd jobs, waitressing, working at a grocery store, I was even a cleaner at your hospital for a few months. But nothing was covering all the house repayments, Frank's textbooks or my mum's spending habits.”

Michael was now shaking his head, his thumb gently grazing your cheek.

“I know Frank, he’s an ass but he wouldn’t have let you pay for everything.”

“My folks didn’t tell him everything, and I didn’t want him to know. He couldn’t be distracted, he had a plan and a path and it was my job to keep him on it.” You didn’t sound bitter, the words could have been bitter. Others might have thought you would be bitter, but you weren’t, not at Frank.

He had always been the kid who was going to make it.

You were just the little sister that was going to help him get there.

“I got a job here just before my sixteenth birthday, started as a dish-bitch, worked my way up to dancing by the time I was seventeen.”

“Seventeen?”

The grip on your cheek is tighter, as you watch him school his emotions, he got a little crease between his brows that looks like a ‘v’ as you watch him swallow a further remark.

“Yep- I had a fake ID in case the cops ever came in but they never did, at least not to raid us.” you joke but the brow on Michaels brow just got deeper, “No one cared really, I had boobs, and ass and was willing to work every night. So I did, I paid off my parents house, I covered Frank's textbooks, the excess of his college living costs and got him the best birthday and christmas presents. They never asked where the money came from, maybe they never cared enough to, I think Frank might have an idea but he never brought it up.”

Michael pulls away slightly, still in your personal bubble but no longer touching you. You try not to verbalise a whine as you try to lean back into his touch.

“You made enough to pay off your parents house.” A statement not a question.

You could tell Michael was processing, his hands were now in his pockets and his entire body language had changed, he stood taller, ridged as he blinked slowly. He walked away from you, suddenly on the other side of the alley.

“Michael?”

“You paid off your parents' house, and Frank's bills, just by dancing?” There was something under those words, an accusation you couldn’t quite place. Somehow during your confession he had picked up something that he couldn’t get through.

“Yes.” Your voice was small, and you realised your hands were shaking. You had just poured your whole truth out to this man and while you hadn’t expected open arms, his response had you thrown.

“You managed to pay off your parents' house, just by dancing on that stage?”

There it was, the judgement and the disgust.

Michael was an understanding Doctor, a person who would advocate for those less fortunate.

But all people have their own hang ups, the thing they would never be able to look past.

And you just found his.

“Stripping is not prostitution.” You say through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t say that-”

“You didn’t have to! I heard it in your voice!”

“I didn’t-”

You want to cry, the tears are there but you won’t cry in front of him, how had you gone from flirting over pancakes to being judged in a back alley.

“We are done here, have a lovely rest of your evening, Dr Robinavitch.”

You push past time, snapping for Dog to follow you. She does, stopping only for a moment to sniff Michaels pant leg before trotting back inside, excited to see who was backstage and ready to give her cuddles.

“Why did you come back to it?”

You look behind you, “What?”

“When you came home, why did you come back here?”

You sigh and just shake your head.

“Because Frank needed me.” You admit before closing the door and returning to your shift.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael’s table of friends are still there when you come back, your fake smile plastered wide on your face.

You couldn’t wait until the club closed and you could go home and cry into your pillow.

But there were still four hours left.

Michael returned to the table a few moments after you, but left almost immediately, making his excuses to the bachelor and Jack. You stayed well away until you saw Michael leave, letting Holly and Joe fill any drink orders.

Jack's eyes stay fixed on you for moments after Michael has gone, tracking your every movement.

You smiled back at him, daring him to say anything. You could do with a fight tonight you thought to yourself as you passed out wings, and whiskey glasses to another table that had come in.

But he’s gone after you pick yourself up off a table, belly button still wet from a body shot.

You look around for him or any of Michaels friends as you tuck the $100 bill into your purse, but the table was empty, bar their finished glasses and a tip.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The liquor was flowing at almost every table by the time 2am rolled by, and Holly had just taken her place on stage. You wanted to laugh as she sent you a wink and a kiss mid-dip.

Joe is still behind the bar but he stops what he's doing as you shuffle up, exhaustion and sticky heels wearing you down.

“You okay?”

You laugh and give him a gentle push, “I think that's the third time you’ve asked me that tonight.”

He shrugs and pushes you back, “You spend half your life looking after everyone else. Someones gotta check in.”

After the conversation with Michael and the rollercoaster the last few weeks have been you can’t help but hug the older man. Pulling him in and clinging to him as you whisper your thanks. You had known Joe since you were fifteen, he had stood behind you for your first week, snapping the fingers of anyone who tried to touch you while you washed dishes in the ugliest frumpiest clothes he could talk the boss into letting you wear.

“I think the crush is over before it even began.” You admitted as you pulled away, grabbing shot glasses for the table closest to the stage. They wanted to do tequila shots with Holly, so you poured four tequila shots for the guests and one shot of water in a ‘special’ sparkly glass for Holly. It wasn’t against the rules to drink during a shift, when someone wants to buy you a drink, but you knew Holly had an early school run the next morning and the last thing she needed was a hangover.

The shift goes on, and you go through the motions. Pouring drinks, folding your tips into your little purse and every so often taking money for a dance.

It was like you somehow ended up on autopilot, just doing everything with a smile on your face and a bounce in your step as your mind continues to just replay your conversation with Michael again and again.

“You managed to pay off your parents' house, just by dancing on that stage?”

He had asked the question again and again, and maybe it was your own insecurity but each time felt heavier and heavier.

You had paid off your parents' house by dancing on a stage.

You had gotten your brother through college by dancing on a stage.

And you would get him through rehab with lap dances and body shots.

And you were not less than him for doing so.

The bar lights came on as the clock turned to 4am. You hadn’t even noticed the hours pass by, but as one last patron tried to grab your ass you waved goodbye to the stragglers and let out a sigh of relief.

Your feet hurt, and you just need your bed.

Joe’s changed the music to a remix of ABBA’s greatest hits and you take a moment to remove your heels, enjoying the feel of the trainers you keep in your bag.

You're half way through putting chairs on tables when the front door slams open.

You turn ready to tell whoever was there to go home to their wife when your voice fails you.

“Can we talk?”

#fanfiction #the pitt #michael robinavitch #michael robby robinavitch x reader #dr robby #dr robby x reader #dr robby x you #dr robby imagine

272 notes · View notes

sexy-monster-fucker · 2 months ago

Text

Throwing a Line Out to Sea

Dr. Gregory House x Doctor!Reader

Story Synopsis: Reader is a Doctor alongside House. They have known each other for years, mostly been dancing around being intimate with one another. Even though it is painfully obvious to their close friend, Wilson. After finally allowing their guards to fall, the Reader receives a letter inviting her for her dream position at her dream hospital. She has to make the hard choice of staying or going. angst/smut/nsfw/new relationships/minor fluff/typical hospital talk/situationship/

Summary/Part 4: Day after their night together, House and Reader are still learning their new dynamics. Time passes and things are growing more serious, until Reader receives a special visitor. Putting their entire relationship into a bit of turmoil.

CW: mentions of threesome, fooling around at work, oral m!receiving, cum swallowing, mentions of addiction, arguments, fighting,

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 <- -> Part 5/Finale

a/n: oh these idiots ARE IN LOVE! but also :/

title track 🎶🩶

~~~

“I know—“ you said into the phone, trying your hardest to keep your voice down.

“And he’s still there right now?” Wilson’s condescending tone snipped at you.

Wilson was your other best friend. And the guilt of not taking his advice had laid on you most of the night. Not wanting to have to have the conversation with him when you and House showed up to work at the same time. Most likely in the same vehicle. So you called him. Confessing what had happened and how you were not sorry, just sorry you went against his advice.

“I asked him to stay,” you whispered, standing in the doorway connecting the bathroom and bedroom. Watching House’s sleeping body. Still curled up beside where you had been lying with him. Wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs. Smiling at how peaceful he looked tucked into your mattress. Arm outstretched as if he was reaching for you. Wondering where the warmth of you had gone. Even in his rem cycle, he craved you against him.

“And you felt the need to call me because you felt guilty..? But you don’t regret your actions at all?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“God, maybe you two are meant for each other,” Wilson laughed, audibly smacking his cheek. So used to you not heading his warnings. Knowing this was not the first time you had gotten involved with someone who would inevitably hurt you. Also aware of your tendency to flee when relationships got too serious. Dreading the foreseeable heartbreak you would experience at the hands of his other best friend.

“He joked about us having a threesome,” you teased, trying to get the target off your back. Able to hear how Wilson shifted in his sheets. Silence buzzed from the other end. Beginning to question him when he cleared his throat.

“An-And how would… do you feel about that?” curiosity clear on his tone.

“HAH! I knew it!” you laughed and pointed into the phone. Pulling a dissatisfied groan from Wilson whose face you could image was as red as a tomato right now. Cutely laughing as he beat himself up for playing into the idea.

“I can’t stand you,” Wilson breathed, pretending the swirling in his stomach was non-existent.

“Can’t tell if you were more excited about me or House,” you teased, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe. Stiffening when you saw House tossing in your bed. Realizing your laughter possibly woke him up. Forgetting you were trying to keep it down when you finally got one over on Wilson.

“Can you girls keep it down? Some of us need our beauty sleep,” House’s groggy voice muttered, head not lifting off the pillow.

“We have disturbed the Princess,” you chided into the phone, grinning when House grumbled in response. Continuing to stand on the other side of the room as Wilson sighed.

“Gimme the phone,” House reached his hand outward. Clearly still half asleep, fingers flexing to urge you to hand it over. Voice deeper than normal and it had your cheeks blushing.

Hesitantly, you gave him the phone. “I know breakups are hard, but if you wanted to marry me that badly, you should’ve put a ring on it, Wilson. It’s Y/N’s weekend with me, I’ll hug and kiss you in the morning. Leave us alone,” he clicked off the line. You smiled, enjoying not being on the other end of his antics this time. His hand absentmindedly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back into bed with him. His sleepy lips kissed along your shoulder and up your neck. Humming in satisfaction at the way you pressed into him.

“Thought you were going to give me morning head, not a morning headache,” House chided, smirking when you smacked his arm. His eyes still resting closed and head against the pillow. Pushing a kiss to his lips as you curled into his body once more. His arms absentmindedly draping over your waist. Sleepily kissing along your skin once again.

“Just give him a few kisses and he’ll be ready to go,” House snickered, voice groggy. You nuzzled your face into your pillow, “Shut up.”

Pulling another smile across his face as his grip on you tightened.

~~~

“When I told you, you needed to apologize, I didn’t mean go fuck her,” Wilson rolled his eyes at his coworker. Few hours into your morning after your confession to Wilson. You were somewhere off in the hospital running tests on your patient. No where near the same floor as the two men. Unaware of the conversation that was being had about you.

“I didn’t go there to fuck her,” House said, leaning against the hallway wall, “She hopped into my lap after the apology.”

“Yeah, women just love an empathetic man. Real panty peeler,” Wilson groaned in annoyance. Flipping through the pages of his chart. Not fully believing House’s side of the story.

“What—? You think I’m lying?”

“Isn’t that your whole thing? That everyone lies?”

“I’m the exception to the rule,” House smugly said with a shrug of shoulders. Completely understanding why the oncologist questioned the truth of his story. Knowing him as well as you did. Honesty was a good policy, but looking better to Wilson was also good-er.

Wilson scoffed, heading back down the hall towards his own office. Click of a cane close on his tail. “Okay! I’m serious! I showed up with flowers and takeout, that I knew she liked. Told her I was sorry and everything. I didn’t expect for her to ask me to stay with her,” House strained trying to keep up with Wilson.

Halting suddenly when Wilson spun back around to him. Blue eyes wide when they met his stern brow. “You like when things make you feel good. I know that. Just… don’t hurt her, Greg,” Wilson’s tone was more serious and genuine than it had ever been before. Worry for your well-being heavy upon his shoulders. Caring for you.

Turning the corner into his office. House following in behind him. Silent as he awaited the door to close. Wanting to tell Wilson he would never— could never hurt you by his own choice. Especially after his accidental admission of his love for you. Something neither of you acknowledged again. But it hung around the air the entire night.

Wilson was growing annoyed by House’s silence, “What? Are you going to tell me it’s not serious enough for her to get hurt? Tell me how there are no strings attached and how you just like hooking up with her?”

“No,” House started.

“Because I don’t see you going out of your way to apologize to anyone else. Hell, I can’t even get you to admit when you were wrong about a diagnosis. Don’t fuck this up, like you do everything else in your life,” Wilson ground his teeth together. Everything in him told him to scream at you. Go pry you away from your patient and ask how you could be so stupid.

But then he looked back up at House and saw how pale he looked. Eyes darting side to side as his tongue wetted his dry lips. Something Wilson had never seen on him before. Dr. Gregory House was nervous. Breathing harder as his fist white-knuckled his cane.

He was taking whatever this was with you seriously. Actually worried that things could blow up in smoke. And Wilson was taken aback. Allowing the tension to soften before starting again.

“Did you seriously get her to sleep with you that easily?” Wilson grinned, breaking away at the wall of ice house was building up before him.

House smirked at him, “She’s the one who crawled into my lap. I was just trying to eat dinner.” Smug attitude returning as his brows bounced in a silent brag.

“You like her,” Wilson teased, pointing at him with the pen pinched between his fingers.

House only smiled back in response.

~~~

And your day was hectic.

Patients coding, coming in with mysterious rashes and spasms, all wrapped in a pretty full moon bundle. The sun was down and you were hiding from your clinic duties. Breathing like you had unknowingly been holding it all day. Needing only a moment of peace before you could handle a night of chaos caused by the change in the tides.

Not a single opportunity to even catch a glimpse of House today. You wondered if his day had been anything like yours. Wondered if he was even thinking about you.

Finally stepping away from your office, heading down the hallway when a door to a storage closet opened suddenly. Startling you especially when a piece of wood reached out and wrapped around your waist. Pulling you into the dark closet. Door slamming behind you.

“There you are,” the familiar voice was low in the pitch black room. Hands wrapped along your waist as your front was pressed to his. Hands flat against his chest. Smell of old cologne prominent. Making you smile at the realization. His lips capturing yours quickly.

“Greg,” you giggled when he trailed down your throat.

“I haven’t seen you all day,” House mumbled into your pulse, tenderly kissing your skin.

“All my patients were throwing curve balls today,” you breathed quietly.

“Damn full moon,” House chastised. One of his hands ran up and down your back. Wanting to feel every inch of your body that he had longed for all day. Missing you like a new puppy. Pulling you into a semi-hug as he tucked his chin in the crook of your neck. Enjoying the short sways that you were doing together.

House’s lips pressed to yours again. A certain hunger overtaking him as he guided you against the nearby wall. Pressing his weight into you. You smiled, “I’ve got clinic duty tonight.”

House groaned loudly. Neck craning as he rolled his eyes. Hand still firmly planted on your hip, returning to kissing you. Laughing against his lips, “You can’t just kiss me forever.”

“I like kissing you,” House admitted, his smile palpable in the dark. Your hands cupped his cheeks, feeling every details of scruff and wrinkles. Still able to perfectly imagine him in the dark. House’s hand hiked your skirt up against your stomach. Hand beginning to circle your covered clit, your hips rutting forward at his touch.

“Greg—“

“Cuddy won’t even notice,” House growled under his breath. Lips firm against yours. The thrill of being hidden away in the storage closet had your heart pounding. His hands all over your body only adding to the stimulation. Already soaking against your panties from the way he gingerly touched you. Your defenses lowering. Preparing to give into him entirely.

Flipping him around and pushing him against the cold stone wall. Shocking him at the sudden change of positions. Slowly, you danced your hands down his body. Knees pressing into the linoleum before him. Tugging at his belt, button and zipper close behind. House’s hand reached out for your head in the dark, roughly grabbing at your ponytail. Loosely holding the hair up. Groaning when you kissed at his clothed cock.

Reaching inside his underwear to pull out his hardening member. Stroking it a few times to get him completely ready. Thumb grazing over the slit, collecting his precum on your finger. Loving the weight of him in your hand. How it twitched each time you tugged at it. Biting your lip in excitement.

Fully taking him inside your mouth, nose resting against his pubic area. Earning an audible moan from him. Tightening his grip on your hair as he tried to catch his breath. Bobbing your mouth along his shaft, tongue swirling the tip. Groaning each time you went down on him.

“Just like that,” sultry tone soaking into your panties. His voice whenever he was turned on was one of your favorite sounds. Broken and airy, clearly tightening his windpipe to hide back some moans.

“Do you swallow?” a hint of condescension in his questions causing you to roll your eyes. Taking him deeper than before, tip bumping the back of your throat. Breaking his composure for a split second when he groaned.

Sucking off with a pop, “For you, I will.” You chastised him. Attitude apparent, which only made him happier. His head rested back against the wall, guiding you with his grip in your hair. Cock twitching between tight lips. Spit collected at the corner of your mouth. Fighting back the gags that dared escape you.

“Are you ready?”

You nodded, a gargled ‘mmhmp’ vibrating his shaft. Salty flavor overtook your mouth. House moaned your name as he rutted his hips forward. Ropes of thick seed coated the inside of your mouth. Hitting mostly towards the back of your throat. Swallowing every drop spewing from his throbbing member.

You slowly released him from your lips, tongue trailing the underside. Struggling to fill your lungs. Knees burning against the hard floor. House reached a hand out to help you up. Missing a few times in the darkness. Laughing awkwardly like a young girl with her crush for the first time.

“I guess this means I really need to break up with Wilson, eh?” House snickered in the dark. Never missing an opportunity to make some kind of joke. You pressed your lips to his.

“Only if my head was better,” you chided, able to match his game perfectly. Chuckles being shared between you. House wrapped one of his arms around your waist as you went to walk away. Leaning his weight against you from behind, kissing the area between your neck and shoulder. Not wanting to let you go.

He could hold you all night. Just lock you both away somewhere no one else would find you. Listening to your breaths and laughs. Watching you read a book. Dissecting you anyway he could. Right within his reach. Something mundane and secure. Never expecting more from the other. Living for the simple pleasure of knowing each other.

Infatuated by you entirely.

“Wilson thinks I like you,” House mumbled, trying to keep you in this room with him any way he could.

“Really?” you teased, “What would make him think that?”

“Hmmm. Maybe because my pupils dilate when I look at you. Or that I can’t keep my eyes off you whenever we’re in a room together. Wilson claims my face flushes too, but I don’t believe that,” House pondered with a certain cockiness. Explaining to you as if there was a medical diagnosis to be had.

You hummed in response, turning to face him now.

“I think you’re the one that likes me,” House snickered.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you could not hide your laugh.

“It’s all about science, isn’t it? Your behavior tells me all I need to know. Like right now, you’re late for your clinic duties. But you’re still in here with me. You even participated in work misconduct,” House gasped faking shock and disgust. “Hiding away in this dirty supply closet. Sucking me dry. What would our colleagues think? Naughty girl,” House pressed his forehead to yours, closing the small gap between your bodies. Kissing you again.

“You really have it all figured out, don’t you?”

“Well, duh,” House snarked a smile being heard in his tone. His hand cupped your cheek now. Feeling all the details that littered your cheek, even if he could not see them. “You like me,” he doubled-down on you.

“I do,” you said, resting your head into his hand. Freezing him for a moment. Hearing him swallow loudly in the small vicinity.

“I knew it!” he cockily celebrated, voice louder than it had been the entire time. His need to always win an argument, even when it was simple flirting, shining through him. Causing you to scoff and roll your eyes. Pulling away now that any romantic tension had faded.

Still good ole House.

“Ah ah ah,” House stopped you by wrapping his cane in front of you. You blew your breath out when you were back in his arms once more. More handsy than you imagined he would be. Wishing you could see how his blue eyes darkened with passion for you. Knowing he looked most handsome when he smiled with his teeth.

“You’re so pretty,” House pined over you, voice hushed again. Almost like ha did not want you to hear him compliment you. Inner thoughts escaping for a moment.

“You can’t even see me,” you blushed in the darkness.

“I know you’re always pretty,” House kissed your cheek. A softness you swore he was incapable of returning. Your hands cupped either side of his face, guiding his lips to yours again. A sense of devotion in the way your moths locked. Bodies drawn to one another. Wishing you could stay here wrapped in his embrace forever.

“Clinic duty,” you whispered. Forcing yourself an escape. Not one to falter on responsibilities. House whined in response. Finally allowing you to leave him. Chasing after your body heat the moment it disappeared.

Opening the door and squinting at the harsh hospital lights. Checking that the coast was clear before stepping out together. Walking side-by-side down the hallway. Silence other than the click of shoes and his cane. Taking the elevator to the ground floor. Riddled with sick patients begging to be treated. Holding your breath at the line of people checking in.

“Good luck,” House sighed. Eyes wide and brows up.

“You could always come help,” you suggested.

House laughed, hard. Pointing at you in his amusement, “Hell no. I like you, but—“

You pointed back at him, smugness now across your brow. Smiling widely as you wiggled your finger towards him. House rolled his eyes hard, head slouching in defeat. Having admitted the thing he had been so adamant about denying. Lips pressed together tightly. Corner of his mouth upturning when his eyes met your eager ones.

“You got me,” House shrugged, exhaling hard as he stood tall once more.

“Wilson is always right,” you joked, brows pushing together in amusement. Knowing exactly how to get under his skin.

“Ow!” House laughed, shocked at your sentence, “Wow, Dr. Y/L/N, I can’t believe you’d even joke about that!”

Giant blue eyes scanned up and down your body as you swayed in victory. Giggling with heated cheeks as your hands folded in front of you. Teeth beaming from how wide your smile was. Nose scrunched up with your eyes squinting. Cutely pressing your hand against your mouth to hide your expression momentarily.

God, he was in love with you.

“Goodnight, Greg,” you giggled, pushing yourself up to kiss his lips. The casualty in which you did so had him internally screaming. Not used to someone being unashamed of him. Happy to be with him, even.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” House smiled tenderly as he watched you walk into the clinic. His torso growing warm with an unfamiliar feeling. Pushing it deep down. Stomach knotting when you turned to wave at him one last time, blowing him a quick kiss. Immediately falling into your professional persona when you were faced with patients. Grabbing a chart and inaudibly taking a young man back for examination.

Amazed by your ability to do it all. Selfishly wanting to keep you all to himself, knowing the hospital and its patrons needed you more.

~~~

Days fell together as they did in the hospital. Bleeding into losing track of dates and how many weeks really had passed by. New faces came and went like the changing of the seasons. Sending some patients away to start their life anew, and others never leaving.

Learning to cherish the small victories in life. Accepting that not every patient could become a clean bill of health, but sometimes even being able to speak again was the biggest win. Helping House and his team with any neurological patients diagnoses. Appreciating his intellect more than you ever had. Getting to experience his expertise first hand.

Feeling yourself falling in love with him more and more every day. His nagging personality morphing into his most endearing trait. Both of you delving into a new rhythm that matched your newly melded lives. Understanding that some days his pain was worse than others. Learning ways to help him, whether it be massaging a different area as a distraction, running him a hot bath, or his personal favorite orally distracting him. Finally seeing how working in pediatrics took its toll on you mentally. Crying while performing all your normal activities, simply allowing yourself an outlet. And he would stand there holding your hand the entire time. Becoming each other’s safety net.

Nights off were spent sat in his living room. Delicate strum of guitar strings becoming a lullaby you could not do without. Beautiful, valiant singing echoing against the walls. Duets saved for special occasions. Dancing together when he wanted to listen to an old record. Waltzing with hands held tightly intertwined. Always humming along to the classic tune. Loving how his eyes softened the more he got to know you. Cracking away at his crude exterior.

Pet names, something you used to mock other couples for, becoming a pivotal part of your relationship. “Sweetheart,” and “Love,” gingerly rolling from his tongue. His first name being the favorite of yours he chose.

Creating the habit of kissing each other goodbye in the morning, meeting for lunch, then not seeing one another until the late afternoon. Sneaking in any downtime together you could. Preferring the more intimate times alone.

Today had been especially challenging for the diagnostics department. Younger woman showing signs of extremely specific diseases, yet all tests came back negative. Leading them to be in quite the conundrum with the small window they had before she coded one final time.

You sat alone in your dimly lit office. Repetitively clicking your pen as you read through the case file. It was not your patient, but awaiting the results of some of your own gave you some downtime. Running every idea, analyzing every variable. Hoping you could somehow help find a solution. An answer.

A soft knock at your door made you jump. Calling them in absentmindedly, assuming it was one of your colleagues.

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes?” your eyes strained against the bright lights of the hall. An older gentleman with a greying beard and thin glasses that sat upon the tip of his nose. Rising to greet him, “How may I help you?”

“I’m a board member at Boston Children’s Hospital,” he extended his hand, “We’ve been keeping up with your research studies in Pediatric Neurology.” You reciprocated his hand, smiling and nodding. “We are blown away by the success rates of your trials. Your research papers are some of the best we’ve read.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I came here today to give you this in person,” he offered a Manila envelope to you, “Our personal request and invitations for you to join our team. We are needing a new head of the neurology department at Boston’s. It would be an honor to have you, Dr. Y/L/N.”

And your heart blossomed. Eardrums ringing as you read the paper. It was a dream of yours. Boston Children’s Hospital was in your top choices for so many years. Astounded that even after all this time, they continued to keep tabs on you. Assuming you would stay at this hospital through your retirement.

“Sir. This is so… thank you,” you met his eyes.

“We hope to see you soon. Cannot wait to discuss this more with the rest of the board. My personal number is on there, reach out whenever you are ready. We are having a conference next month, it would be an honor to have you attend. I appreciate your time,” he nodded, shaking your hand one final time. Walking back out your door as fast as he came in.

Adrenaline rushed through every bit of your body. Holding the letter tightly against your chest as you squatted down with a squeal. Tapping your feet along the floor as you returned to your seat. Spinning around the chair. Laying the invitation flat against your desk. Eyes wandering back to all the other documents.

Joy draining from your body at the realization. Reminding you of House, and how badly you wanted to run straight to his office to celebrate with him. But this was not a victory in the eyes of a newfound relationship. This meant one thing.

Leaving.

Leaving everything here behind and dedicating all your time somewhere new. Fleeing at the first escape route, as you always did. Abandoning all the people you had learned alongside. Cuddy. Wilson.

House.

Oh, God. Gregory House.

The fresh face of love that met you every day. Bonding deeper with him as time continued. Wanting a future with him. There was no world in which House, as he was, could find a new job at a new hospital. He had tenure here. That being the only reason he had yet to be fired. Most people in the medical field would refuse to take him seriously. Brash attitude and limp. Constant pill popping. Not exactly the perfect picture of an adequate doctor.

A heavy pit crawled into your gut. Burrowing itself into the inner linings of your intestines. Wrapping itself around your heart. Feet sinking into the floor below you as your vision blurred with immediate tears. Coughing as you crumbled the page into your coat, rushing down to Wilson’s office. Allowing yourself in and locking the door behind you.

“By all means, make yourself at home,” Wilson shrugged with an undertone of aggression that only had your face heating up more than it already was. Eyes widening when he finally looked up and saw your puffy, tear-stained cheeks. Standing immediately to walk over and take your hands, “What’s going on?”

You pulled the paper out swiftly, offering it to him. Confusion outweighing his concern. Deep brown eyes looking up at you, “I… don’t understand—“

“Boston Children’s offered me a job,” you monotonously said, voice cracking against the words.

“That’s a… good thing?”

“No!” you squawked, marching over to the couch. Flopping against the plush material, screaming into the pillow. Rolling onto your back and staring blankly at the ceiling. Blinking away the few that wetted your lashes.

“Okay,” Wilson walked back over to his desk. Leaning back to give you the floor.

“What do I do?” you fought back tears. Hands folded tightly over your abdomen. Consoling yourself silently.

“Take the job,” Wilson answered.

“James—“

“This is an incredible opportunity for you. Do you know how many people would kill for this? No one here will hold this against you,” he said, fidgeting with some gadget on his desktop.

“But… House—“

Wilson froze. Swallowing heavy when that part of the equation finally dawned on him. It truly was not as simple as leaving behind a hospital. But a brand new relationship. Albeit, one he assumed would only end in heartbreak. Knowing there were only a few different possibilities of how he would react to this. All of them being negative.

The air in the room thickened as he stared blankly at you. Watery eyes begging him for an answer. The right answer.

Wilson sighed. Pinching between his eyebrows as he hunched over his desk. Chest tightening at how desperate you looked. His dear friend praying for some sense of resolution in him. Needing reassurance that he could not give without boldly lying.

“Y/N. This isn’t something I can help you decide. I know you’ll make what choice is best,” Wilson dismissed.

Pit deepening inside you. Sitting up silently. Eyes falling closed before regaining composure. “Thank you, Wilson.”

Excusing yourself from his office. Hands bawled up at your sides as you walked slowly down the hall. Shoes clicking against waxed linoleum. Echoing against the silent halls.

Quiet before the storm.

You softly knocked the back of your knuckles against his doorframe. Pulling his attention from the papers scattered along the large table in front of him. Motioning for you to come in. Softly closing the door behind you. Awkwardly fidgeting with your hands as you stood across the room from him. Silence confusing him.

“What is it?”

You mouthed. Lips smacking together when the words would not come out. Watching as his articulated fingers folded through all the papers. Brow arched in thought. Not having the time to feed into some nonsense you were playing. His patient was dying. It was up to him to fix it.

The thing you needed to ask him was delicate. Possibly pushing him away when you did not have the intention. Weight of your relationship forming a pit in your stomach. Wanting to run away from the conversation that needed to be had. Legs tingling with anticipation.

“Are you here as Dr. Y/L/N or as my… girlfriend,” House’s words trailed off when he began reading a page.

“Greg—“

“Okay, girlfriend it is,” he irritably sat the page down.

It was a bad time. Clearly, he was in no mood for this trivial discussion. But it was now or never.

“What…” you stumbled immediately, “What is… this?” You motioned between the two of you with your hands.

Confusion overtook the wrinkles along his head, “What—?”

“I mean— I… are we— is this serious? Or are we just doing this… for fun?” Your foot was in your mouth as you mushed words together. Timid for one of the first times. Cheeks burning at the question.

House sighed. Leaning back in the chair with his hands folded against his head. Teeth grinding together before he responded, “Why does everything have to have a label?”

It felt like you had been shot clean through the chest. Your lover holding the gun. Immediately feeling tears welling behind your eyes. Throat swelling shut as you stared blankly. The most pathetic ‘oh’ squeezing its way out. His defense mechanism locking around your heart.

“I just said you were my girlfriend. Does it ever need to be more serious than that?”

Lips sealed tightly. Not wanting to pour your heart out to him. Fear of pushing him so far away you could no longer reach heavy against your chest. Blinking away the dew that stained your lashes now. Not able to look him in the eyes anymore. Searching for reassurance that he was incapable of giving at this moment. The hard decision almost becoming easy for a moment.

“Y/N, I don’t really have time—“

“Sorry for bothering you… House,” you began out the door. Preparing to distance yourself. Easier to leave when you did that. Boston suddenly sounding homely.

“Come here,” House stopped you. Freezing with one foot out the door. Hand holding the frame with a bruising strength you did not often wield. Locking your jaw debating if you would listen to him. Anger and hurt flowed through your veins. But when you looked over your shoulder to see his piercing blue eyes practically begging for you to come over to him, you gave in. Catching your breath before walking over, towering over where he sat.

His hand took yours, pressing a kiss to it. Thumb running along your knuckles and joints. Holding eye contact with you, able to see how badly his dismissive words had gotten to you. Eyes already bloodshot and beginning to tear up. Face muscles turned down in an uncontrollable frown. Learning you better than he ever imagined he would care to. You were his favorite puzzle to solve.

“I—” he started, wanting to tell you how he truly felt. Too afraid of how things would change if he did. Love was the worst thing he could ever do to someone. To love him was an insult. A narcissist with a cane and pill addiction. Unlovable by all standards. People were often turned off by his brash personality and constant need to one-up everyone around him. But when he looked at you all he saw was love. Gentle eyes that he had made cry, hurting him more than he could have imagined it would. You made him soft.

“I am… worried about my patient,” House paused between each word, “Can this wait?” Tone low trying not to come off condescending. You nodded, leaning down and pressing a kiss into his cheek.

“I love you, Greg,” you whispered as you pulled away.

He swore his heart stopped. Pain shooting through every nerve in his leg at your words. Admission to something he never wanted another person to say. Throbbing ache begging to be eased with the bottle in his coat pocket. Finally out in the open and it was heavy.

His blue eyes widened at you with parted lips. Unable to return the simple phrase. As you expected. It did not hurt you, the look on his face told you he felt the same. Knowing smile pulling at the corner of your mouth.

Still. Like a hunter fearing to disturb its prey.

“Run another MRI on her. With and without contrast. You may be looking at an intradural tumor in her meninges,” you said as you began for his door. Solemnly smiling at him as you looked back.

House’s jaw still hung open. Blinking rapidly as he stared at you. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Don’t,” you said, waving him off. Exiting his office with a new defense formed around yourself. Preparing for the Great War.

~~~

The week became weekend before you could even think. Choosing to ignore the letter to the best of your ability. Because if you did not think about it, it did not exist. Right?

It was nearly midnight as you sat on the couch with House. Eyes closed as you rested your head on his shoulder. Returning from a late night reservation at one of your favorite higher-end places in town. House not one for going out in public, but sometimes he liked to show off how beautiful his partner was. He loved making you feel special. Ego boosting when he would see other men check you out, then scoff when his piercing gaze would challenge them.

Record player set to a low volume. House’s glasses sat on the tip of his nose as he read some old novel that you had already forgotten the name of. Ambience of the room allowing you to relax. Humming along to the record, a song you remembered really liking your freshman year of college. Before you were even one hundred percent sure you wanted to be a doctor.

Fluttering awake when House chuckled. Body vibrating your attention to him. You simply asked, “What?”

“It’s cute that you don’t know the words,” House smiled. Taking the comment more as condescension, pushing him with your elbow.

“I know the words,” you said, unconvincingly.

House laughed, “Mmhmp. Famous words of everyone who definitely ‘knows’ the words to a song.”

Earning him one of your now signature eye rolls. Looking at the words on the page he was on. Noting some more erotic descriptors. Giggling as you pointed, “I thought sexy novels was a woman thing.”

House scoffed, closing the book with a loud thud. “It’s not a sexy novel, you delinquent. Sometimes authors just use words like that to make a point.”

“Right… that’s what I’d say if I got caught reading porn too,” you smirked. Hooded blue eyes peered into you. Corner of his mouth curving into a grin. Leaning forward to kiss you. Finding any attempt at a joke to be endearing. Loving the mischief behind your eyes. Leaning his head back along the back of the couch. Toothy grin over taking him as the silence did the room.

“You know,” House spoke, “I could see myself marrying you.” Smile overtaking him. Lovesick expression written across his face. Shifting his posture on the cushions.

“How many pills have you had today?” you joked, pretending to search all the crevices for the orange bottle. Assuming he was simply saying things aloud.

“Y/N. I’m serious,” his tone dropped. Sending a chill down your spine at the implication. Looking back at him to see a small velvet box held between his fingers. Beautiful ring sparkling inside it. The band a silver that perfectly matched your complexion. Gem on top glistening with reflection of lights. Your heart stopped. Breath choking in your throat. Face running pale and hot all at once.

“Greg…”

“I couldn’t say it to you the other day. I… love you,” House smiled, “I want the rest of our lives to be together.” A twinkle in his eyes and voice shaking with what you could only assume was nerves. You extended your hand to him, allowing him to slip the ring on your fingers. His lips gently pressing a kiss against your digits. You admired the band. Eyes suddenly overflowing with hot tears.

“A board member from Boston came by this week. They offered me a job at the Children’s Hospital,” you admitted. Monotonous and cold.

Just like that, every ounce of love behind his eyes faded. Brow furrowing as his eyes went cold. Mouth sewn shut, jaw flexing when he swallowed hard. Blinking forward, looking past you. Mind clearly riddled with thought. Trying his best to choose his first words.

“Did you accept it?”

“Not yet,” you replied, brows upturning.

His nostrils flared. Quickly grabbing his cane and standing. Leaving you cold and alone on the sofa. Circling the table in front of you. Back now to you. Hand shaking with how hard he gripped the cane.

“Greg—“

“When?”

“What?” your lip quivered.

“When did you get the offer?” House’s teeth grinded together with each word.

“A… A few days ago—“

“Oh. And you’re just now telling me?” the pain on his tone palpable.

“There was no right time,” you defended your action.

“Oh, I don’t know— Maybe before I asked you to marry me would’ve been good. Courteous even!” House began rambling, exaggerating with his hands. Attitude and sarcasm laced his venomous words.

“I don’t— what was I supposed to… Greg, you know I didn’t do it to hurt you,” your guards were rising back up. Dark pit fighting itself out of your chest to wrap you in a layer of defense.

House scoffed. Morphing into a horrifying laugh. Grabbing one of the paper weights off his table and smashing it into the wall. Glass splattering across the floor. Causing you to jump at his sudden aggression.

His thigh throbbed. Scar running with molten lava.

“Get out,” he said blandly, refusing to look at you.

“Greg, please—“

“I said, GET OUT!” He winced when he lifted his cane to point at the door, weight baring down on his bad leg. Eyes filled with more anger than you had ever seen before. Bloodshot and glassy. Teeth bared at you.

There was a silence as he huffed in front of you. Shoulders aggressively rising and falling. Tears staining the sides of your face. Lips parted as you begged him with your eyes. Silently sobbing as your heart palpitated. Lip quivering as you stood on shaking legs. Head hung low as you slowly walked towards his door.

“I love you,” you sounded defeated. Not looking at the love of your life standing behind you.

“Yeah,” House said, “I did too.”

The final bullet shot into your back. Lodging itself between your shoulder blades. Stinging along every nerve ending in your body. Knocking the air out of your lungs. Your hand coming up to cup your mouth as you rushed out of his apartment. Sobbing the entire walk to your car.

~~~

[END//Part 4]

// Thank you so much for reading! I know this chapter is a bit longer than the others, but I needed it to be in order to fit everything I wanted in it. There will only be one more chapter after this! I have honestly had the most honor to write this story and have so many of you interact with me. I love you guys!! Comments and Reblogs are appreciated. //

{tags}

@houseslollipop ~ @megangovier ~ @iwmflbb ~ @yourgirlcarol ~ @needz1nk ~ @crimin4llyins4ne ~ @bitchy-bi-trash ~ @chaimshelii ~ @cailleachcola ~ @shutthefrickup ~ @dustie-faerie ~

#house md #dr house x reader #dr gregory house #house x reader #hugh laurie #gregory house #greg house #greg house x reader #fanfic #sexymonsterfics #hugh laurie x reader #writing #part 4

229 notes · View notes

thischarmingmandalorian · 11 months ago

Text

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

Couple, Bar Chapter 1

Summary: After you help Joel with a work project, he takes you out for drinks. When the bartender mistakes you for a couple, his brain short circuits.

Pairing: Single Dad Neighbor!Joel Miller X Reader

Warnings: Joel thinking being mean is flirting, alcohol, grinding on strangers, getting groped in public, no-no words. In my mind there's an age gap (10 years max) and I envision a mid-40s Joel, but I don't think it'll ever become apparent.

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: Formatting on mobile is not for the weak, y'all, so if this looks like ass I'm sorry. I don't know what a contractor does. Song mentioned is Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers. Full playlist is linked on the master post for this series (which I'll learn to link all together soon I promise I'M OLD, OK?!) Also I promise I have an English degree but if I read this one more time I'll lose the nerve to post it so ignore any mistakes I missed. Anyway love you bye.

While you weren't on your neighbor Joel's payroll, every now and then he'd knock on your door and sheepishly ask to borrow your "eye for design," which was Joel talk for "I need help knowing what handles look good on these cabinets I'm building and every other person in my life is busy."

You and Joel had been neighbors for the better part of 5 years and had become relatively close in that time. If you were being honest with yourself, the first day you met you might have fallen in love, but since immediately jumping into a relationship with a newly-divorced single father wasn't on your five-year plan, those feelings were buried, albeit not always successfully.

Joel was charming, kind, and... Southern. And while these were all things that made you head over heels for him, they were exactly what made it difficult to interpret his feelings for you. Were he and Sarah baking you Christmas cookies and hand delivering them to your door because he too had a crush, or was he just being neighborly? Was he grinning every time he said hello to you because he was a nice guy? What were you supposed to make of that one time, on his couch for movie night, when his hand lingered a little longer than normal on your thigh? You had no idea, and for the sake of your friendship, you were content not knowing.

On this particular day, Joel needed help matching paint colors to flooring samples and might as well have been color blind. He was building a house for a newlywed couple and their wishes for, as Joel put it, "some 1960s Brady Bunch bullshit" aesthetic meant nothing to him. You had spent the better part of an hour helping Joel match swatches of green and orange in ways that he had previously thought impossible, and as a thank you, he offered to buy you a drink at the first bar you spotted on the way home.

The first bar you spotted happened to be an almost-literal hole in the wall, but the packed parking lot indicated it was a place worth visiting. Joel opened the door, beckoning you through the threshold ahead of him, and you're hit with a wall of smoke and the bump of a local dj working through his set.

Luckily most of the people at the bar had already started drinking and were congregated in the middle of the tiny dance floor, making it easy to find two seats. Joel flagged the bartender over and ordered for the both of you, handing his card over to start a tab.

"Got you a beer, this place doesn't look like they'd make a good margarita," Joel shouts over the music.

You smile, leaning in close to thank Joel. "I appreciate the forethought! Send me a Venmo request for what I end up owing you," you gesture to the frosty bottles that get put in front of you.

Joel tuts and waves his hand between you two in a noncommittal gesture. He leans in close to your ear instead of shouting this time, "consider it payment for your help today. When that couple told me they wanted their house to be 'midcentury Palm Springs chic' I knew you'd know what they meant. The wife kept sending me links to her Pinterest board, whatever the fuck that is. I was too scared to click them because..."

"Because you're fucking old," you finish, barking out a laugh at the frown that Joel gives you.

After one beer turned into three, Joel starts to open up. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he cares and is interested in your life, even if it takes some alcohol to get him asking about it.

"Have you started dating yet?" The question catches you off guard, your eyes growing wide. "What? You've been in town for five years now, it's high time you start putting yourself out there. A pretty girl like you should have no trouble finding a man."

There it is again. Is Joel just being nice calling you pretty? Or is he fishing for something more?

"Have you started dating?" you counter, raising an eyebrow, nodding when Joel shakes his head. "I'm too busy, Joel. I'm…"

"'Focusing on my career,'" Joel finishes for you, having heard it all before.

You roll your eyes. "Why are we talking about this?"

Joel smirks and cocks his head to your beer, the label in the process of being peeled completely off. "You've peeled the label off every drink you've had tonight."

"Oh…kay?"

Joel shrugs, "if Tommy were here he'd say you're pulling the labels off because you're sexually frustrated." He makes a face as if to say 'but what do I know?'

You raised an eyebrow at Joel. "You of all people should know not to take what Tommy says as fact. And you're one to talk; you live across the street, I'd notice if women were coming over. And they're not. You're going through a dry spell, Miller, same as me." You empty your bottle, stuffing the label down the neck and waving the bartender over for you and Joel to order one more round. Joel tries to think of a witty comeback, but he knows you're right.

You watch the bartender open your tab on the till behind the bar and chuckle when you notice what she's titled it: at the top of the screen, in bold letters, "COUPLE BAR."

You tap Joel's bicep, pointing to the screen, "look at that, Miller," you shout over the music, "she thinks you and I are a couple."

Joel looks at the screen himself, eyes suddenly going wide. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he isn't just chuckling at the bartender's misunderstanding, but your expression turns to one of anger once Joel regains use of his brain and the only thing he can think to say is, "... ew?"

You hope you just misheard him over the loud music, but as Joel started to sputter out an apology, looking horrified at what he had said, you realize - a stranger thought you two were dating, and Joel thinks that's gross. You weren't interested in hearing him trip over his words while he tried to backtrack, and you desperately needed a distraction so you didn't start to cry. You wave your hand in front of Joel's face, telling him to save it as you grab your beer and push past him to the dance floor.

This is definitely not your scene, the middle of a smoke-filled bar on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you make the most of it, taking a swig from your bottle as you push through the crowd. Once you've made your way to the center of the crowd, you assume the position - eyes closed, bottle raised above your head, swinging your hips to whatever top 40 hit the dj decides to bleed into the last one he played. You don't have to wait long before you feel a body push up behind you and you welcome the distraction. You don't open your eyes or lower your hand except to drink from your near empty bottle, but you do back your ass up against the stranger behind you. It's definitely not Joel. This person behind you is way too lanky; when his arms encircle your waist they lack definition, his thighs aren't nearly as beefy as Joel's, and… you get frustrated with yourself. Joel just insinuated dating you would be gross and all you can do is think about how hot he is?

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and enjoy the moment. The guy behind you is getting handsy, and normally that would bother you, but Joel was right about that dry spell. One song bleeds into another as you gyrate against this stranger who now has his hand splayed across your stomach under your shirt.

You're ripped unceremoniously from your mindless grinding by a large hand on your shoulder. You wink one eye open though you knew it was Joel. You're not interested in hearing him out, especially not with this stranger's hand gliding slowly up your torso, boldly inching closer to your chest.

"Darlin'" you hear Joel shout over the music, "'m sorry. I didn't mean…"

You put your palm in front of Joel's face before moving your hand on top of the stranger's, whose fingers are teasing the hem of your bra. Joel can be sorry, but he's also going to see how decidedly not-ew the thought of being with you is.

"Whatever, Joel. You can think being my boyfriend is gross. This is fine!" You open your eyes and the look on Joel's face is one you've never seen before. At this point he isn't looking at you, he's staring daggers at the man behind you. Whoever he is seems blissfully unaware.

"Honey, I'm out of touch. I'm fucking old, you said it yourself! I don't know how to - hey, buddy, do you fucking mind?" The hand under your shirt loses its grip on you as Joel shoves the shoulder of the guy behind you. Suddenly his body unglues itself from your back.

"My bad, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend," he shouts over the music as he disappears back into the crowd. You groan and roll your eyes.

"So sorry, Joel! Turns out when you look and act like my boyfriend, people think you really are! How embarrassing for you," you ramble into Joel's ear. You turn to walk off the dance floor, embarrassed, but before you're out of his reach Joel grabs your forearm, pulling gently until you're flush with his body. He towers over you, his eyes bore into yours.

"Please listen," he bends to speak quietly into your ear, "I'm sorry, and I mean it. We're friends, and I value that. I thought I was bantering, bein' funny. I know you don't want to be a couple at this bar. I know you want to be friends, nothing more, with me. But…" he trails off, pulling away to look at your face.

The atmosphere changes in a way that you swear is straight out of a movie. The lights pulsing and flashing are hitting Joel's face in a way that makes him even more handsome, which you'd thought previously impossible. While your beer bottle is empty, clutched into your hand that hangs limply at your side, Joel's drink is nearly full, still frosty, and dripping condensation through your shirt, soaking your lower back. Joel's eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to do or say anything.

And then the dj changes the song. You are… intimately familiar with what begins to play and you shake your head, chuckling. What divine intervention drove the dj to start playing a song about ruining a friendship at this very moment? You have no idea, but you make a mental note to thank the universe as you smile at Joel. You push away from him for just a second, long enough to rip the label off your empty beer bottle. Joel looks confused watching you ball up the damp paper.

You chuckle as you toss the label at Joel, it pinging off his temple before you spin your body so your back is plastered against Joel's front.

You'll show him sexually frustrated.

Joel seems to take a second to read the situation because his body doesn't move. In fact, it goes rigid. Your hips sway against him anyway. Joel only breaks out of his spell when your arm snakes around his neck and you bury your fingers in his hair. Tugging gently on his curls seems to awaken something in him and his hands are on you in seconds. The hand clutching his beer comes to rest on your hip as the other picks up where your previous dance partner left off, creeping under your shirt and splaying across your stomach.

"What are we doin' here, baby?" Joel rasps into your ear, his voice deeper and more strained than you're used to. "I guess I deserve you teasin' me, but two can play this game." Joel's nose prods at a spot behind your ear as he peels one cup of your bra away from your body, replacing it with his hand. Your eyes fly open to ensure no one notices, but everyone on the dance floor is busy paying attention to their own partners. Joel rolls your nipple between two fingers before giving it a flick; you try and suppress a moan.

Not to be outdone, you reach for the beer bottle in Joel's hand. You make sure Joel's eyes are locked on you as you lick a stripe up the neck of the bottle, taking a generous sip before handing it back. Joel's eyes widen and he smirks, bringing his mouth back to your ear.

"Think it goes without sayin' now, but I really don't hate the idea of people thinking you're mine," Joel accentuates his last word with a gentle nip at your earlobe that makes your head loll back onto his shoulder.

"Are you listening to the song, Joel?" You reach up to place your hand on Joel's cheek, turning his face gently so your eyes meet. He looks confused, but you can tell he's training his ear onto the chorus of what's playing.

I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don't know how to say this

'Cause you're really my dearest friend

Joel lowers his eyes back down to meet yours and smirks. "You an' me both, darlin'." His hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him grow hard against your ass.

"Know where I last heard this song?" The final notes start to dissipate, melding seamlessly with the next song. Joel shakes his head and asks where. You smirk, nuzzling into Joel's neck before you lick a stripe up to his ear. "It's on my sex playlist."

Joel stills. You grin, giggling as he pushes you away gently. "I've gotta close out the tab," he says once he remembers how to form thoughts into words. "Meet me at the truck. And think about what song you're gonna put on once I get you home."

#joel miller smut #fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou smut #couple bar #neighbor!joel

516 notes · View notes

lovesickpvppy · 4 months ago

Text

collage au nanami hc’s — art credits to : @/thatsallitchief

warnings: fem!reader, smut, things move fast but fuck it we ball!, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv and aftercare !

notes: sorry for not posting for a whileeee also ignore any typos !

❀ - nanami who sees you for the first time in literature class, it’s love at first sight, okay maybe on his part, you didn’t even see him that day…

❀ - nanami who “meets” you again at a party, but this time he actually introduces himself to you, he sees calm and confident while talking to you, meanwhile on the inside he’s panicking…!

❀ - nanami who then starts to see you everywhere, it’s almost scary, every time he thinks about you, bam! you’re there and saying hi to him! one day you see him at a coffee shop and decided to ask him out to dinner, just for fun. what you didn’t expect was for him to say yes…

❀ - nanami who is now getting ready for a date. with you. he’s so surprised that you actually asked him out, he’s rushing around his dorm getting all the things he needs for the date. when he finally gets to his car he’s a half hour early.

❀ - nanami who meets up with you at an italian restaurant. you look so gorgeous and nanami can’t take his eyes off you.

❀ - nanami who is obsessed with the way you talk. you’re voice and everything you talk about is just so fascinating to him…! he already wants to wife you up! right then and there!!>_<

❀ - nanami who pays for the food like a gentleman, he makes sure you don’t have to lift a finger that night, driving you back to your off campus apartment. he comes in with you, just to make sure you get settled…right ?; )

❀ - nanami who is surprised when you kiss him, he kisses back, practically in a trance from how good you’re lips feel against his. he can’t shake the feelings that tonight is gonna be the night he loses his virginity

❀ - nanami who starts to work off your clothes, along with his. when he sees your body fully naked in all its glory he knows it’s true love.

❀ - nanami who’s scared when you ask him to go down on you, he wants to, like a lot..! but he’s scared he’ll do it wrong. but when he latches his mouth onto your pussy his instincts kick in and he’s eating you out like you’re his last meal

❀ - nanami who loves the feeling of your warm sloppy cunt clench around his fingers when you come. its an addicting feeling, which leads to him making you come 4 times. to round it up to 5 he says he’s gonna make you cum one more time, this time…around his cock

❀ - nanami who whines when he’s inside you for the first time. his dick in your gummy walls is a feeling he couldn’t even describe

❀ - nanami who ruts into you like an animal, he’s so eager to much you cum before him. he grabs your hips and slams into you, his tip kissing your cervix.

“kento..! ♡” you whine out, you calling him by his first name makes him painfully harder, if that’s even possible.

❀ - nanami who’s successfully makes you cum 5 times that night. then he’s the king of aftercare, he puts you in your pjs and gets you a glass of water. he lets you fall asleep on him. he stares down at your resting body knowing he’s gonna wife you up just like he thought a couple hours ago…!

#bambi can think ?#art credits to @/thatsallitchief !!#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento smut #nanami kento fluff #jujustu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujustu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen x reader

213 notes · View notes

daydreamgoddess14 · 19 days ago

Text

The Reading Rooms

What a week 😩 ngl, it's been shit, but the wonderful works below and my own little tippy tapping has kept me going.

I made a Masterlist of previous weeks if that's helpful 😘

Always remember to heed the warnings posted by the individual authors. What I'm happy to read may not be what you're happy to read, so I take no responsibility if you find something you're not into.

And finally, Tumblr is a community. Reblog, gush like you've never gushed before - I promise you, the authors below will love it, and love you for it! We write because we love to, but we share our work because we love the community of it. If you read something you like, let the world know! 💕

The List

This week, I finished the Menu mini-series 😢 AND I also finished a Chris Beck one-shot - By Another Hand - literally no idea if anyone is still interested in reading about our space boyfriend, but throw me some love if you are. I totally wrote it for myself, but sharing's caring... as you'll see in the fic 😏 - it'll be out on Friday.

In other news, @ramp-it-up is celebrating 5k followers with an epic #PraiseMe5k. I know we're all eager to please 😏 so let's create some super hot works to celebrate!

Now onto the fics that kept me somewhat sane this week!

Bucky Barnes

I've literally only read Bucky this week. Sorry not sorry.

Declassified continues to blow my mind. @dreamwritesimagines is throwing out chapters so fast and when I tell you they are all INCREDIBLE?!?! Like, just amazing. I am so fixated by this story. I'm obsessed with Birdie. Bucky is just 🤌 perfection. It's amazing. This absolutely MUST be on your reading list. Chapter 5 AND Chapter 6 both out this week and you need to get the notifs as well because the headcannons and thought that Dee is putting into this is nothing short of amazing.

@buckyseternaldoll (Elle) deserves ALL of your love this week. Blow up her blog with kindness and sweet thoughts. She's not only blessed us with He Feels Everything (ummm... WILD! And also wonderful!), Mirror Me (fucking hot)... y'know what? Just... here's the Masterlist - thank me later 😘 Not a miss in there, every single one a banger.

Fault Lines by @cheekybarnes is SO good. I am STILL thinking about this line: “Then put on some boots and meet me at the barricades instead.” I adore supportive Bucky 🥰 AND while we're on with Ash, you also need to read Promise without Ceremony which was just the most divine thing ever. Heartbreaking, uplifting, romantic... perfection.

Busy by @aquaticmercy is another smash. So cute, so sweet. Daddy Bucky makes me want to bite things.

Late Night by @materia-girl88 was sooo yummy!! I too am feral for the tank top and the slicked back hair.

Hoooooly shit. Holy shit. You must, must read @ramp-it-up's FMK. You have to. The dialogue? The BIKE? The praise 😩 I need to devour DJ's entire Masterlist. You do too - go on, you know you want to!

Pain Pills and Confessions is SUCH as sweet little thing by @orellazalonia. Super cute! Also - Date Prank so really cute and funny!!

@marvelwitchergilmore strikes again! Compromised Positions is sooo good you guys! It's the fake marriage real love story I needed this week. Amazing!

Close Quarters by @samazing0831 is lovely. No expectations, no demands, just a quietly lovely and wonderful Bucky 🥹

The One that Got Away by @writing-for-marvel - part 2 also linked - absolutely heartbreaking. Seriously, bring tissues, you'll need them!

Thin Walls by @makehydrafictionagain was SO much fun!! And of course, now I have Bed Chem on repeat 🫡

Eyes Don't Lie by @buckysleftbicep - holy shit this was hot. Like, so hot. I need him biblically.

A soft, sweet morning with Bucky by @readreidsworld - so lovely!

Darling @navybrat817 blesses us once again with a soft, sweet daddy to be Bucky 🥰 Make It or Break It

Dancing with Bucky at a wedding? 🙏 @eternalnoble makes it so in Table 11

Drunkin Love and the whole gang is here?! Sign me up! I loved this so much @korraven!!

A Night from the Past by @barnesonly - bow down, this was EXCELLENT! So, so excellent! 🙌

Courting by @inkdrinkerworld is peak romantic Bucky. He's so smooth! Ugh, I just love him so much!

every time the sun comes up by @swordgrace is so gorgeous and beautiful. The sweetest, softest smut with Bucky.

@thunderbolt-ing has written I Can't Do It Alone - three parts linked within, all of them are so, so great. I could just devour Congressman Barnes. Like, I need to nibble on that man.

And making the cut because HOW could I leave this one out - Sunny, the amazing @sunday-bug has written daddy Bucky who's also feral for his gorgeous wife and this was so hot and so wonderful and can this be real life please? I LOVED Time To Get Busy 🤌

No misses on this list, lads. Feast your eyes and get your reblogging fingers ready!

111 notes · View notes

glowettee · 5 months ago

Note

hiii! i love your acc, it's so cute :3 i was wondering if you could do a post about self-love, it's something i've been struggling w/ lately. thank youuu

uncommon but life-changing self-love practices (that actually work) 🎀

posted by: glowettee

hey angel! thank you for this question in my mailbox! and ahhhh thank you so much you're so sweet!! i'm sorry this post was a little late, self-care is soooo important, i want to give you some tips that you don't hear to often that i do in my self-love journey! i'll share some not-so-obvious self-love practices that literally changed my life! ♡

♡ redefining your space psychology because your environment shapes your self-perception:

bedroom makeover with intention:

rearrange furniture to face the sunrise (this literally changed my morning mindset!)

create a "victory wall" with tiny achievements (i put up a photo of my first B- grade that turned into an A-)

place mirrors strategically (not just for selfies, but for daily affirmations)

use color psychology (i painted one wall rose quartz pink in my room and it actually improved my mood)

create a dedicated self-love corner (mine has fairy lights, positive letters from friends, and little trinkets from my childhood, along with printed photos from pinterest with self-love affirmations/lists.

♡ morning practices instead of basic routines, try these instead:

the "main character energy" morning:

write how your day went (successfully) and about yourself in third person (like "mindy gracefully picked up her pen, to conquer calculus, she did all her chores, and even studied japanese for 2 hours.")

practice "mirror dating" (spend 5 mins having an actual conversation with yourself - it's weird but works!)

create a "today i choose" list (instead of a to-do list)

dance to one song before doing anything else (i do taylor swift, or newjeans obviously)

write a love letter to a body part you're struggling with (i wrote to my uncooperative hair and now we're besties <3)

♡ digital self-love (but make it intentional) because we live online but need boundaries:

phone transformation:

change your passwords to affirmations (mine is a variation of "mindyisworthy2025")

create a folder of your awkward photos (embrace the cringe! and laugh with your friends, its so fun)

record yourself modeling, or pretending your a celebrity or k-pop idol

take selfies without filters (document your real smile)

set random alarms with love notes to yourself

hide little sticky notes with cute reminders about yourself in your room, so when you stumble upon it a month later it'll make you smile!

social media rebellion:

post the photos you'd usually delete (even if it's made private)

share your real study space (messy notes and all)

document your growth journey (even the uncomfortable parts)

create a finsta for your completely unfiltered self

make reels about your self-love journey (even if they're private)

♡ physical self-love (the weird but effective version) not basic bubble baths:

unexpected body appreciation:

thank your body parts for specific things ("thank you hands for letting me write my study notes")

have a private dance party in weird places (i do this in elevators when i'm alone)

wear your prettiest clothes to study, or even to the grocery store (even if no one sees)

make up your own choreography to your favorite songs

make your own workout or stretching routine with different stretches/exercises you make up yourself

comfort zone expansion:

try eating alone in public (start small - i began with coffee shops)

wear that "special occasion" outfit to class

speak up in class even if your voice shakes

send yourself flowers to your dorm/apartment (I LOVE DOING THIS EVERY VALENTINES <33)

take yourself on cute dates (let a coin flip decide where you go! or ask google.)

♡ emotional archaeology dig deeper than surface-level feelings:

create an emotion museum:

keep a "weird thoughts" journal (mine has my 3am existential questions)

make a playlist for each mood (even the uncomfortable ones)

collect "emotional souvenirs" (me and my grandmother had a cafe date a few years ago, and i still keep the receipt today)

document your crying sessions (trust me, looking back at these helps)

write letters to your past and future self

validation exercises:

practice saying "my feelings about this are valid" in the mirror

create a "proof of worth" folder on your phone

collect screenshots of nice messages

record yourself giving pep talks

keep a "wins" journal (especially tiny ones)

♡ advanced self-love techniques for when you're ready to level up:

relationship building with yourself:

schedule weekly "self-dates" (i do wednesday coffee dates with myself)

create a personal manifesto (update it monthly)

develop inside jokes with yourself

celebrate monthly self-love anniversaries

create traditions just for you

growth documentation:

take progress polaroids (not just physical)

voice record your daily thoughts

measure growth in unconventional ways (like "times i chose myself")

create time capsules every season

write monthly letters to yourself

self-love isn't just face masks and bubble baths (though those are nice too!). it's about building a deep, weird, wonderful relationship with yourself. it's about becoming your own best friend, confidante, and biggest supporter.

some of these might seem strange at first, but that's okay! the best relationships often have their quirks. start with what feels right and slowly expand your comfort zone. it's not just about practicing self-love, it's also about creating your own unique love language with yourself!

you're doing amazing things just by being you, and i'm so proud of you for prioritizing this journey! remember, the relationship you have with yourself sets the tone for every other relationship in your life.

xoxo, mindy 🎀

165 notes · View notes

usomads · 6 months ago

Text

Baby, It's Cold Outside // Jey Uso x Reader

Author’s Note -> So sorry for the lack of updates! Flew home for the holidays and I’ve been suuuuper busy w family but I wanted to get out at least one Christmas-ish story to y’all 🙂 hopefully I can find some more time throughout the next couple weeks to get some writing done… I have like 5 prompts to knock out lmfaooo. As always though, happy reading + happy holidays!

Plot -> You and Jey go on a weekend trip right before the holidays, just you two, for some much needed alone time and relaxation. The fireplace isn’t the only thing keeping you warm tonight…

Pairings -> Jey Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Fluff (if you squint hard enough), Cursing, Hickies, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Cockwarming, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 2.0k

“Man, I can’t believe I let you convince me to take a trip to the middle of fuckin’ nowhere,” Joshua shivered as the cold breeze kissed his skin, snowflakes fluttering onto his cheeks and eyelashes. You had booked a winter getaway for the two of you, taking some time before the chaos of the holidays began to unwind and relax- just you and him. “You’re lucky I love you so much, now hurry up and open this door.. I’m freezing my ass offff.”

“Okay, okay, calm down babe. I gotta put in the door code. Can’t let my poor baby freeze to death,” you winked at him and he glared playfully at you as you punched the numbers in on the keypad. The heat of the cabin inside embraced you with open arms as you opened the door, Josh sighing in satisfaction at the warmth. You stepped inside and took in your surroundings, smiling at the furnishings around you. Everything inside was mostly wood furnished, giving it a cozy and comforting feel. You were entranced, you knew this cabin was beautiful from the listing pictures but those truly didn’t do it justice- this place was beautiful.

Josh placed your bags down next to the door and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. “Is it everything you thought it’d be?”

“Everything and so much more, this place is incredible, Josh,” you breathed out, leaning into his touch.

“I’m really glad we did this, mama. You did good, thank you,” he places a kiss on your cheek, a crimson heat rising to the surface as you smile underneath him. “But as much as I’d love to sit and stare at this place with you all day, I’m starvin’. Let’s go find somethin’ to eat.” You laughed loudly at his response.

“Jesus, y’all damn Fatus can’t go one second without thinking of food, can you?” You shake your head, smiling as you follow him into the kitchen.

The two of you enjoyed dinner and cleaned up, finding a good Christmas movie on TV and spending the rest of the evening relaxing. You had the idea of setting up a pallet in the living room and, of course, Josh couldn’t say no to you so you gathered all the blankets and pillows you could find and set them up on the floor, close enough to the fireplace to feel its warmth as you laid in his arms. Your eyes danced with images of the movie playing on the TV while Josh’s watched you, admiring your features that lit up as the movie played. He stared lovingly at your face being cascaded by the glow of the fire, affixing his gaze to your eyes and watching as your pupils dilated in joy with the events unfolding on the screen in front of you, then watched your nose crinkle as a cute part would come up, and traveled down and watched your lips part and mold into a soft smile. He loved moments like these- moments where he could immerse himself in you and your presence. He didn’t get opportunities like this often, with his job requiring him to be on the road for long periods at a time, but the rare times he did get moments like this he cherished them wholeheartedly. He’d find himself imagining what it’d be like to have this for the rest of his days, you in his arms and feeling the beating of your heart against him. He knew he wanted this forever, and everything in him was screaming for him to just grab the tiny box from his luggage and tell you all of this now but he also knew there was no need to rush it- he already had the plan in place to propose when you go to your parents’ house for the holidays and, not to sound arrogant, but he knew there was no way you’d be saying no to forever with him.

“Josh… you know the movie’s on the screen and not my face, right?” You chuckled and turned to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“I know, baby, m’bad. Just wanted to look at you for a second,” he placed a kiss on your forehead, smiling down at you. “You’re incredible, you know that?” You smiled up at him. “I mean it baby… thank you. Means a lot that you’d do all this just for us, you know?”

“I know,” you blushed, “I just wanted to get away, just us. Give us some alone time together.” Josh wiggled his brows at you and you giggled at him, moving to playfully smack his arm but he grabs your wrist before you can and pulls you on top of him. His hands snake to your sides and lift underneath your shirt, caressing the skin underneath. You press your forehead to his and close your eyes, soaking in the moment as you feel his warmth consume you. His hands slowly trail higher, goosebumps scattering across your body as you lift your head and look into his eyes. They search his, getting lost in them for a moment until he presses his lips to yours. You two share a passionate kiss, one that is slow but full of love and desire. Just like every time, Josh’s lips on yours takes the air out of your lungs and sets your body on fire. You feel it everywhere, your heartbeat quickens, your breathing becomes shallow, and every fiber of your being aches for him. You moan against his lips as he flips you two, him now hovering over you as he peppers kisses across your cheeks and jawline. He lifts your shirt over your head in between kisses, exposing your lace bra to him as he licks his lips at you from above.

“So fuckin’ beautiful…” he whispers, leaning down and trailing wet kisses down your neck. You let out a soft moan as his lips find your earlobe, gently nipping at the skin as he grinds his hips into yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, the contact distracting him from working on your neck as you pull him back down to your lips. You press your body into his as you lift your back from the floor and give just enough room for him to slide a hand underneath you and unclasp your bra, removing the fabric from you before he pulls his own shirt over his head. His hands find your breasts, kneading them in his hands before wrapping his lips around your right nipple and pulling the bud between his teeth. You gasp, your back arching into him and your hips desperately trying to find contact with any part of him. He chuckles, the vibrations sending shockwaves to your aching core as it grows wetter and wetter by the second.

His lips cascade down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your sternum and abdomen as he settles where you want- no, need him most. His hands massage your thighs through your leggings as he looks up at you, his big brown eyes full of adoration and desire, burning with a sense of desperation for you. You gently weave one hand into the curls upon his head, nodding at him to proceed as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and panties and pulls them off of your body in one swift motion. He removes the material from your ankles and presses his lips to the spot, slowly working kisses up your calf and the inside of your thigh until his face is lingering above your glistening pussy. He lets out a guttural moan, releasing a hot breath on your core that makes you shiver underneath him. He brings his right hand to your folds and slowly collects your wetness on his fingers, bringing them up to his lips and tasting you on them.

“So sweet, baby…” you sigh in response as his fingers travel back down to your folds and caress the skin, dragging his fingers at a torturously slow pace while he lowers his head. His lips find your clit with ease, drawing slow circles on it with his tongue as you grip his hair tighter. He slides a finger inside of you, a moan reverberating through you as he places open mouth kisses on your pussy and pumps his finger inside of you. He adds another, feeling you stretch around his digits as he curls them inside and continues his work on you. His name falls off your lips as he does this, your low moans and whines driving him to please you further. Your eyes are trained on him, watching how focused he is on making you feel good as he makes eye contact with you. You throw your head back as your walls flutter around him, tightening around his digits. Suddenly, he pulls them out of you and removes his sweatpants and boxers, his cock springing free from the confines they were once in and crawls back up to you. He plants another kiss on your lips, inserting his tongue in your mouth as you taste yourself on him. You feel his tip press against your entrance, teasing you opening as you whimper into his mouth. He smiles against you, knowing how much you want him and slowly enters you. Your mouth falls agape as you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as his dick pushes deeper inside. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he bottoms out inside you, groaning at the feeling of your tight and wet walls suffocating his cock. He stays there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his length before pulling out of you and leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back into you. He drives into you at a slow pace, contrasting greatly from the usual sex you have. He’s not fucking you like he usually does- he’s making love to you, and you feel it. It’s in the air around you, the space between you, his skin touching you. You feel how much he loves you with every single thrust, every groan that falls from his lips, every kiss he places on your skin. All you feel is him.

His thrusts become more erratic as the both of you are inching near release, the sounds of skin slapping and moans creating a perfect symphony with the crackling of the fireplace and the background noise of the television. Your pussy grips onto him for dear life, knowing your impending orgasm is about to take you out of your own body. And it does, with no warning your toes curl and eyes glue shut as you yelp out curses of his name, digging your nails in his back hard enough to draw blood as you coat his cock in your juices. A mix of pain and pleasure courses through him as he cums inside you, releasing himself fully into your stomach as a drawn out moan releases from his throat. Pants fall from the two of you, trying desperately to catch your breath as you come down and gain your senses back from the earth-shattering orgasm you two shared. He falls to his side, still inside you as he pulls you to his chest, too drunk on love and the feeling of your warmth around him to let you go just yet. You breathe in his scent, hugging him close as your eyes grow heavy. As you drift off to sleep, you hear him mutter something under his breath, painting your face with a tired smile as you hear his words and fade to slumber.

“I love you, baby. And pretty soon, we gon’ have times like this for the rest of our lives.”

#jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso imagine #jey uso fic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x you #jey uso x reader #jey uso x y/n #main event jey uso #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe smut

237 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 6 months ago

Text

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 5: Fracture

You and Joel try to find a balance in your relationship in Los Angeles. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 4 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Very mild violence. Masturbation. Description of porn. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 14.3k (IDFK what my problem is)

“Hey, Big Miller!” Tanya yelled toward her living room, wine glass clutched precariously in her grasp.

“Shhh!” You clamped your hand over Tanya’s mouth as she practically cackled. “Will you cool it?”

She shoved you away playfully.

“We need a camera man,” she said. “And I don’t think he’s busy.”

“Can’t we ask one of your security guards?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I don’t think they’re busy, either.”

“Yes but my security guards aren’t eye candy,” she replied, almost smug. “And they’re in the guard shack. So the obvious choice is… Oh, hello Big Miller.”

Tanya winked at you and you turned to find a surly Joel standing in her massive kitchen, his arms crossed and a fed up look on his face.

“Can I help you.”

“Yes, actually,” she practically flounced over to him. “We are making a TikTok…”

“No,” Joel said.

“Oh, come on,” she waved him off. “You’re no fun!”

“Ain’t paid to be fun,” Joel said. “Now if you two aren’t running off somewhere crazy, think I’ll get back to…”

“We just need a camera man,” Tanya said, putting a hand in the middle of his back and guiding him further into her kitchen. “All you have to do is press record, hold the phone and press stop.”

Joel looked to you like he was asking for an out and, given the new, strangely kind balance to your relationship, you wished you could give him one.

But… you did need a camera man.

“Ellie wanted us to make a video,” you said and Joel sighed and held out his hand for Tanya’s phone, just like you knew he would as soon as you mentioned your niece.

Tanya squealed and clapped for a moment before walking him through what she wanted him to do.

“Alright,” he sighed as Tanya took her place next to you. “Let’s get this over with.”

Joel was a surprisingly good sport about the whole thing, stopping and starting the recording again and again as you and Tanya swapped places and did ridiculous looking dances and you couldn’t help but laugh when you were supposed to be standing still as your friend did her part.

“Thank you, Big Miller,” Tanya said, taking the phone back when the two of you couldn’t think of any other stupid dances to do. “We appreciate your contribution to our art.”

“Something tells me that isn’t going to win either of y’all one of those fancy trophies,” he said before looking to you. “Should leave soon. You’ve got early shit tomorrow.”

“So bossy,” Tanya winked at him. Joel rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s like that,” you smiled at him a little. “But we have to let him control what he can otherwise he gets grumpy.”

“Well I guess we do have to let the men be men occasionally,” she smiled at him again before looking to you. “Do I get to see you again this trip or no?”

“Probably not,” you said, scrunching your nose at that. “I’ve got more chemistry reads tomorrow morning, Kimmel in the afternoon, meetings in the evening, premiere the next day, flying home the day after that.”

“Ugh, home in Texas,” she made a face. “LA is way better.”

“I’m sorry, which of us has been on tour for the better part of a year?” You teased. “Not like you’re here for me to hang out with anyway.”

“Hey, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” she elbowed you lightly and you laughed before you both sighed. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you smiled a little. “You can always come visit in Texas, you know.”

“Might take you up on that,” she smiled back.

Tanya loaded you down with two dozen cookies before you left and you couldn’t help but smile a little as Joel drove the two of you back to your house.

“Thank you,” you said, looking over at him in the glow of the street lights. “For the TikTok thing, I mean.”

“Not the end of the world,” Joel shrugged. “Don’t understand it for shit but…”

You smiled a little and opened the cookie tin, holding it out to Joel, who glanced at it as he drove.

“C’mon,” you shook the tin at him, making the cookies inside rattle. “You know you want one.”

“Can’t believe you just go over to some pop star’s house to bake cookies,” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing one, taking a bite and chewing for a moment. “And they’re fuckin’ good, too, that’s even worse…”

You just smirked, closing the tin with a satisfying snap, looking out the window as Joel drove you home.

It had been a strange few days since the lunch with Henry. You’d been busy - which you had expected, cramming weeks worth of meetings and outings into just a few days - and Joel had been a surprisingly comfortable companion for the whole of it.

He sat there, watching stoically from the corner as you read lines with the actors vying to be the romantic lead in Savage Starlight. He didn’t complain about the swarms of paparazzi and fans when you went to do interviews. He even kept whatever complaints he had to himself when you went for a fitting for your dress for the premiere and your stylist, Frank, dragged him in to get feedback from a man on the fit of your bodice.

“What was your name again, I’m sorry,” Frank asked as he stood there with his hands on your sides.

He sighed.

“Joel.”

“Joel,” Frank said. “Right. Well, Joel, since I’m pretty sure you’re straight given -“ he gestured toward Joel as a whole “- that, what do you think? Should we have it sit here…”

“Frank,” you said, half pleading, half knowing it was a lost cause. “Please leave him out of this…”

“Honey, if you won’t listen to me, listen to him,” he said, adjusting the bodice and turning his attention back to Joel. “Do you want to fuck her more with it here?”

He adjusted it again, making it so your breasts were higher, more ample. You sighed.

“Or here?” He said, looking at Joel. “Be honest.”

Joel’s eyes darted to you, wide and almost afraid.

“I… uh…”

“He doesn’t want to fuck me at all, Frank,” you said, rolling your eyes, your hands on your hips.

He rolled his back.

“Please, everyone wants to fuck you.”

“You don’t.”

“Yeah, that’s because I want to fuck him,” he jerked his head toward Joel.

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to tell Bill that,” you teased, barely holding back a smirk. “Tell him you’re out here…”

“Don’t you dare.”

“…checking out bodyguards…”

“Please don’t.”

“…causing problems…”

“Do you really think that paranoid old man could cope if he knew I was hanging out with that walking wet dream?” Frank asked, brows raised. “Please. For both our sakes, save me the fight and keep it to yourself and you,” he rounded on Joel. “Tell her the truth, that you want to fuck her more when the girls are higher.”

“Can you promise me I won’t have a nip slip on the red carpet if you shove my boobs up to the sky?” You said before Joel had a chance to stumble his way through another response. “Because Quinn might kill me if I do.”

“Do you really think I’d let that happen?” He asked, brows raised. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll put some pasties on the girls, that way if your tits find some way to defy the laws of physics - which, if anyone’s could, it’s yours - you’re not really flashing the whole world.”

“Very considerate,” you said wryly, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “Then sure, put my tits under my chin if that will bring you joy.”

“You’re my favorite client for a reason,” he said, going about pinning the dress into place and you bit back a smile as Joel stood there, his hands in his pockets as he stared determinedly off to the side his eyes darting back your way every half minute or so.

Joel had even been a pleasant presence at home. You’d FaceTimed Ellie the night before while you sat at your kitchen island with a glass of wine, just nodding along and listening to her talk about her day, trying not to dwell too much on the little mannerisms she had that reminded you of Anna. Joel came in - you weren’t sure why, his hand running absently over the granite counter before rapping his knuckles on it and Ellie spotted him then, perking up even more when she did.

“Hey, Big Miller!” She called in a sing-songy voice.

Joel came up behind you, tall and broad at your back, leaning down to get in the frame of the camera of your iPad.

“Hey Trouble,” he said, teasing Ellie with her own code name. “Been keeping your nose clean for your grandmother? Behaving for Seth?”

“No,” she smirked. “But remember that one debate I had coming up?”

“I do.”

“Well, I did it,” she said proudly, sitting up a little straighter. “And I won.”

“You did?” He asked, pride in his voice. Ellie nodded eagerly. “Knew you could, that smart mouth of yours.”

“I kicked his ass,” she said happily.

“Was it that one kid?” Joel asked. “The asshole?”

“Yup,” Ellie beamed. “And I made him look like a fucking idiot.”

“Ellie!” You scolded.

“Sorry, Sissy,” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Joel. “Freaking idiot.”

Joel snorted.

“Good for you, kiddo,” he said. “Knew you could do it.”

Once you finished up the call with Ellie, you went and found Joel. He’d taken to spending time by the pool since the night he’d found you there. Sometimes he had a book, sometimes he just watched the water, his hands folded between his knees looking like he was lost in thought. He was there then, too, watching the water this time with a bottle of beer at his feet.

“Hey,” you said, knowing better than to approach him silently.

He looked back over his shoulder to you.

“Hey,” he said before looking back at the water.

You came and sat next to him, watching the light ripple in silence for a moment.

“Think Ellie misses you,” you said, glancing to him as you did. He just grunted. “It sounds like she talks with you…”

“We got time when I take her to school,” Joel said, almost defensively.

“I know,” you said quickly, gently. “I just… I appreciate it. You being nice to her, I mean.”

“Oh,” he said.

“She needs that,” you continued. “Her dad was never in her life, it was always just her mom, Elise and me and now… She needs as many people as she can to care about her. She’s been through a lot. I’m glad she has someone else she can talk to like that.”

“She’s a good kid,” Joel said, staring at the water. “Don’t mind.”

You nodded silently.

“Puns are awful though,” he said after a moment, smiling ever so slightly.

You laughed.

“God, they really are,” you said. “She has a book of them.”

He looked at you then.

“Who the hell’s idea was that?” He asked.

You laughed again.

“She picked it up at school a few years ago, one of those book fair things. I think she memorized it.”

“Jesus,” Joel laughed and then sighed. “Guess we’ll never be free of ‘em.”

“No,” you smiled a little. “Guess we won’t.”

It had become a strange balance. Not quite friends, not quite… whatever you’d been before. Some odd middle ground where you cared what he thought and found a disorienting comfort in his presence without the kindness of any affection.

Your phone lit up, a link from Tanya. You followed it and watched the video on TikTok, posted for not even five minutes and already thousands of likes. You smiled at it, the look on your own face as you tried not to laugh at your friend’s ridiculous dance moves and your own clumsy, erratic movements when it was your turn funnier than you’d realized.

“That the video?” Joel asked as you sat at a red light.

“Yeah,” you said, holding the phone out to him just as it looped. He watched for a moment, an almost serious expression on his face before it seemed like he was biting back a smile, shaking his head a little. You laughed. “You liked it!”

“I don’t really get it,” he said, giving you a look before the light turned green and he started driving again. “But… yeah, alright, it was kinda funny. Didn’t think you celebrities really did that kind of shit, though.”

“Why not?” You asked, going to repost the video on your own feed and texting Quinn to tell her that you had so she wasn’t caught off guard by it.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just… seems like it’s beneath you.”

You frowned a little.

“You do realize we’re just people, right?” You said. “We just happen to do jobs that make us famous.”

“I know,” Joel said. “Still. Feels weird.”

You laughed a little at that. Yeah, fame was weird.

“Ellie seen the video yet?” He asked, glancing your way quickly.

“She’d better be in bed,” you said. “It’s almost 2 a.m. in Texas. But I’ll send it to her in the morning.”

“She do one, too?” Joel asked.

“She did,” you said, smiling a little and going to Ellie’s TikTok - which you’d insisted be locked down to hell and back so paparazzi couldn’t take advantage of it - and pulling up the video. Joel parked in your driveway and you handed him your phone, pressing play for him and watched as he smiled a little as Ellie and her friend Dina did different crazy dances in a classroom at school to the same song you had.

“Looks like she’s makin’ friends,” Joel said, giving you back your phone. He didn’t wait for a response, getting out of the car. You sat and waited patiently for him to come to your side of the car - a safety protocol that felt excessive but you went with it - before getting out yourself. “That’s good. Can be hard for kids that age now, especially at a new school.”

“Yeah,” you said, frowning slightly at him and biting your tongue. How would he know about kids that age? You weren’t sure of his exact age but you were pretty sure he was a few years older than you and it’s not like he had kids.

“Driver’ll be here early,” he said once you were both safely inside and you set the cookies down in the kitchen. “Any itinerary changes I should know about?”

“Nope,” you said. “Just going to be a busy day for me with a lot of sitting around for you. Might want to bring your book.”

“Be sure to keep myself entertained,” he said wryly, opening the tin and getting out another cookie.

You smiled.

“Goodnight, Big Miller.”

“Night, Siren.”

You brought a bag with you the next day.

You’d done enough shit like this in your time - days where you had to run from place to place at almost breakneck speed, places where you knew you’d be photographed to hell and back and others where you had some semblance of privacy and you knew you’d be desperate for some comfort - that you knew how to plan for it.

Joel sat up front with the driver, leaving you in the back seat alone and you sent the TikTok to Ellie, telling her you hoped she had a good day at school and that you were excited to see her in a few days. You took a few minutes to review the lines you were working with that day, making sure you were comfortable with the ones you’d be reading with the kids. You always remembered your first line readings with grown ups once you were actually old enough to fully understand what was going on, how some made you feel at ease and some made your stomach churn and skin crawl. You always wanted to be the comfortable person for these kids. You hadn’t worked with many children in adulthood but it always felt strange when you did, some twinge in you that made it seem like you were watching your younger self but not able to stop what was coming.

“Doomed by the narrative,” you muttered to yourself, skimming the lines of the girl who would play your childhood self.

“Hm?” Joel said back over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” you said, locking the iPad as the car pulled up to the studio gate. “Just running lines.”

There were four kids you were reading with but one that you’d been told was the favorite and she was reading last.

All the kids were talented, you’d give them that. Of course, they had to be to make it this far. They were all 10 to 12 years old, all excited to be there, all somewhat accustomed to this life already. But you posed for pictures with them anyway - the photos going on their agents’ phones so they couldn’t post them before they were allowed to - and performed your lines in all the different ways the casting director asked.

Eventually, the last girl came in, a sense of nervous, almost frantic energy pouring off of her, something that seemed so far away but so familiar from your childhood.

“Can I see her resume?” You asked the casting director quietly as the production assistant went over things with the girl.

“Sure,” she said, rifling through a small pile before handing it over. You reviewed it quickly and found what you expected - some commercial work, a three episode arc on a sitcom, no film. She was just 12 years old and new to this. You slid the resume back and went over to the girl who, you had to admit, looked a lot like you.

She was staring at you, her eyes a little wide and you tried not to laugh. Instead, you smiled and held out your hand, introducing yourself.

“Yeah,” she said, a little awed. “I know.”

“Thought you might,” you smiled a little wider. “What’s your name?”

“Catherine,” she said. “Catherine Ford.”

“It’s nice to meet you Catherine,” you said. “Want to run some lines with me, see how we do?”

She nodded quickly and you showed her where to stand in front of the camera that was capturing your line reads for the director to watch later.

“Let’s go from from the top,” the casting director said, giving you a nod. “Get us started.”

You just nodded and found the character quickly, falling into her headspace, making your eyes meet the girl who was yourself.

“Who are you?” You asked, a panicky edge to your voice.

“Don’t you know?” She asked in response, cocking her head slightly to match your own. “I’m you.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s not possible, you’re not real, you…”

“I am,” she said, all calm and wise. “I’m you and I know that you… I… crud…”

Her face scrunched and she looked down to the paper in her hands.

“Keep going,” the casting director said to you. “Lead her in.”

You nodded, taking a moment to reset and looking at Catherine.

“That’s not possible,” you said again. “You’re not real, you…”

“Don’t you know?” She said and then her face fell. “Crap, I’m sorry!”

“It’s OK,” you smiled gently. “Want to go again?”

“Is that OK?” She asked. You just nodded and she sighed. “OK, cool. I’ll get it this time!”

“From ‘that’s not possible,’ please,” the casting director said and you obeyed, but Catherine missed her cue to cut in that time, freezing in the moment and then looking like she was about to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I promise, I know my lines, I was up so late practicing, I won’t mess up like this if you actually cast me, I…”

The casting director got up but you held out a hand, keeping her where she was.

“Catherine?” You cut her off before she had a full blown panic attack. “It’s OK. Did you warm up before you came in today?”

“No,” she sniffled a little. “No, I should have, and…”

“Hey, I’m not criticizing you,” you smiled gently. “Even if you had, it’s probably been long enough since you left your house that it wouldn’t make a difference now anyway. Why don’t we take a minute, warm up, then try again. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“OK,” you said. “Any warm ups you really like?”

“Um,” she thought for a second. “To sit in solemn silence? Do you know that one?”

You smiled a little wider.

“Good pick,” you said. “One of my favorites. Want to start or do you want me to?”

“Can you?” She asked. “I never have to…”

“Of course,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Ready? To sit in solemn silence on a dull, dark dock…”

You did a few warm ups with her, helping her loosen up and get relaxed before you got set to go again, tension coming back into her small shoulders as she got set for the next try.

“Hey,” you said gently. Her eyes met yours. “It’s OK. Just you and me, two actors doing our thing, OK?”

She smiled a little at that.

“OK.”

She seemed to take that to heart, hitting every word that time, the two of you falling into that rare space where you felt truly connected, that you were inhabiting these characters, building tension, pulling these feelings from each other and laying them bare. It was a space that was hard to find, you couldn’t do it with every actor, and this 12-year-old girl had managed it.

The room was silent for a moment when the scene wrapped but then the casting director clapped, you and Catherine both turning to look at her, Catherine beaming.

“Beautiful,” she said. “That was great, really really great.”

The two of you did a few other scenes, Catherine finding her groove more and more each time and you couldn’t help but marvel at her talent. She had raw skill that many of your contemporaries would kill for, skill that she’d only hone over time. She was going to be an incredible actor if this industry didn’t destroy her first.

“Who brought you here today?” You asked Catherine when the read was over, the casting director already talking conspiratorially with her assistant.

“My mom,” she said. “She’s in the waiting room.”

“Can I meet her?” You asked.

“Yeah!” She said eagerly. “She’d love that!”

You flagged Joel down from his spot in the corner and followed her there, her mom jumping up when she saw her come through the door.

“Hey kiddo!” She said excitedly, hugging her daughter. “How’d it go?”

She noticed you then, her eyes going a little wide at the sight of you.

“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m…”

“I know,” she cut you off, her eyes still wide but going somehow wider. “Oh my God, that was probably so rude, I’m sorry!”

You laughed.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Honestly, if it didn’t make me feel like such a self-centered jerk, my life would probably be a lot easier if I just assumed everyone knew who I was. You’re Catherine’s mom?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Margie.”

“Hi Margie,” you said. “It’s good to meet you. Catherine is really incredible, you know.”

“I know,” Margie said, tugging her daughter against her side and giving her a squeeze. “Trust me, we wouldn’t even be trying this if she wasn’t. She just begged and begged for years and eventually it was so obvious she was so good that we should at least give it a shot.”

Catherine beamed at that and you smiled, the familiar pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you swallowed as you did. Her mother seemed nothing like your own.

“I took a look at her resume, looks like you’re pretty new?” You asked and Margie nodded. “Well, getting started is hard, there’s a lot to navigate. Can I see your phone?”

She all but dove into her pocket and unlocked it before handing it over.

You entered your number, saving it with your first name and last initial.

“Don’t share that around,” you said, giving Margie her phone back. “But if you need anything - anything at all - give me a call or a text. Alright?”

“We gotta go,” Joel said quietly behind you. “Cutting it close.”

You just nodded before turning to Catherine.

“It was really great working with you today,” you smiled.

“You too,” she said, smiling hugely.

“Looking forward to doing it again soon,” you said, giving her a hug and a wave before going back to the audition room. Your bag was in the corner and you grabbed it before going to the casting director.

“I want Catherine,” you said, already going through your bag for your makeup kit.

“She was very strong,” she replied. “But she had the shaky start and…”

“No,” you said, cutting her off. “She’s it. No one else came close. Not trying to tell you how to do your job but it’s Catherine. She’s just green but she’s young, she’ll get used to it quick. Trust me.”

She considered you for a moment.

“Alright,” she sighed eventually. “She was the top pick going into today but if we need to recast because she can’t hack it…”

“We won’t,” you said. “I’ll make sure she’s got what she needs.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll confirm with the director but we’ll get her.”

You got changed into something far less comfortable than the leggings and sweatshirt you’d been wearing but looked way better for TV - Frank putting together a pair of velvet wide-legged trousers and matching jacket with a mesh turtleneck - and did your makeup and hair as quickly as you could before rushing to the car, Joel on high alert any time you were outside.

“You were good with her,” he said once you were safely underway.

“Hm?”

“The girl,” Joel said, his voice gruff. “You were good with her. She was nervous, I could tell.”

“Oh,” you said, watching the back of his head in front of you, as if that would tell you anything about what he was thinking. “Yeah. I just remember what it was like to audition like that. It’s lot of pressure.”

“Can’t imagine doin’ that to a kid,” he said harshly. “Should get to just be a kid.”

“There’s a reason I don’t want Ellie growing up here,” you said, looking out the window at the city going by. “Don’t want her getting any ideas.”

The car pulled up to the theater, a hoard of people outside the doors waiting for you.

“Ready?” Joel asked over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting yours, something about the depth of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Ready,” you said.

He got out first and he tried to rush you through the crowd but you saw a little girl who had to be about seven or eight - wearing a t-shirt with the duck you’d voiced years ago, when Ellie was about her age - watching you with hopeful eyes.

“Hi there,” you smiled, getting down on her level. “What’s your name?”

“Parker,” she said, smiling hugely, one of her front teeth missing.

“Hi Parker,” you smiled back. “It’s so nice to meet you! I really like your shirt.”

“It’s my favorite movie!” She said excitedly.

“You have excellent taste,” you said with a wink. You nodded to the piece of paper clutched to her chest. “What do you have there?”

Her face lit up for a moment and she thrust the paper at you.

“It’s my drawing!” She said. “I did it myself!”

You took it and looked down at it, a childish, colored pencil version of the duck you’d played there on the page.

“Parker, this is so good!” You said, smiling at her. “You’re such a good artist! Is that what you’re in school for right now? Art? What college do you go to?”

“I don’t go to college!” She laughed.

“You don’t!” You gasped in mock surprise. “What! How old are you? 20? 21?”

“I’m seven!” She beamed.

“Oh, my goodness,” you said, looking back at the paper. “You were such a good artist and so grown up I figured you were much older.”

You gave her the paper back

“Can you sign it for me?” She asked, holding it out with a pen.

“Well, the artist is usually the one to sign their work,” you said. “But… I’ll sign it if you do, too.”

She beamed at that and you let her use your back to sign her name on her drawing before passing it off to you. You signed it, too, and gave it back before taking a selfie with her mom’s phone.

“Alright,” Joel said when you stood up again, his face drawn tight, his hand on the middle of your back. “Let’s get you inside, fuckin’ sitting ducks out here.”

“Oh, we’re fine,” you waved him off, going back to the crowd and taking selfies and signing autographs as you worked your way into the theater.

“You like trying to give me a damn heart attack?” He asked once you were inside.

“Everyone needs a hobby,” you said wryly as Quinn rushed over to you with a production assistant at her back. “Should try getting one yourself, you know.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, rolling his eyes but following you to the greenroom all the same.

Quinn reviewed the final topics for the interview and you said hi to Jimmy before getting ready to go on stage and put on a show.

Doing interviews like this one still felt odd to you. Not because they were unusual - you’d gotten used to the talk show circuit by this point in your career - but because of their very nature. The illusion of some intimate conversation between friends on display for the few hundred strangers in the same room and then broadcast for all the world to see.

You’d crafted a version of yourself for times like this, one that was built to appeal to an audience and seem genuine and real, some artificial sheen to wrap yourself up in that you slipped into like any other character. This one, though, grated on you. The strange dishonesty of it, the character you were playing yourself instead of the creation of someone else.

The interview went along like any other for a while, the two of you bantering back and forth and you sharing funny stories from set that sounded off the cuff but were actually carefully rehearsed to make sure you and your costars’ stories aligned.

“Speaking of Chris,” Jimmy said as your time was running down and the audience was quieting after another bout of laughter. “I do have to talk about one thing with him.”

“Just one?” You teased and he laughed.

“Well, plenty,” he said. “But did you know that you and Chris are going viral?”

“No,” you laughed. “But I’m sure my publicist does and she’s thrilled. What are we going viral for?”

“There was a moment in an interview this week,” Jimmy said. “I think we have it…”

The screen behind you changed and the moment from the junket days earlier played, you and Chris sitting side by side as he started on his rant, one that you’d thought would never see the light of day.

“First of all, my costar here is the most beautiful woman on the planet and the single most talented actor I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with so you will treat her with the respect she’s due…”

You sat there, cheeks getting hot, pressing your fingers into your thigh, nervous energy making your stomach turn as you watched Chris lay into the reporter. You’d hoped that this clip had been squashed by his publicist, that the reporter honing in on one of your lowest points wouldn’t be put out for all the world to consume. Apparently not.

“That’s all it takes to go viral now, eh?” You joked as the video ended. Jimmy chuckled lightly but no one in the audience laughed.

“You’ve got to admit, that was a pretty great moment,” he said. “But I was wondering what you thought of it.”

“I think Chris has a way with words that I can’t quite match,” you smiled a small but tight smile. “And I think if I say anything different, he might go off on me next.”

That did get some laughs and you laughed with the audience, hoping that you looked playful and fun, not tense and ready to crawl out of your skin.

“Well we don’t want that,” Jimmy laughed. “Thanks so much for coming on and everyone, go see As We Know It, out Friday!”

You waved your goodbyes and looked stage right, oddly comforted by Joel’s commanding presence there, his face firm as he watched you. You walked right for him as you left the stage, one of his arms going around you as you came alongside him, something grounding in his touch as he ushered you away.

“You’re OK,” he said quietly, guiding you toward the door you came in.

You frowned and looked at him, Joel glancing your way as you did.

“You’re stressed,” he said. “I can tell. I’ve got you.”

You did a more abbreviated run of the crush of fans this time, stopping for a few selfies and signing a few pictures, but not lingering, instead moving as quickly as you could for the car without looking like you were rushing.

Joel didn’t get in the front seat this time, instead climbing in back with you. You frowned as he did but he just ordered the driver to start toward the restaurant where you were meeting with producers.

“You alright?” Joel asked after the car was out of sight from the crowd outside the theater, his eyes oddly soft and open. “That was shitty, them springin’ that on you.”

“It happens,” you said, looking back at him as intently as he seemed to be looking at you. “I should be used to it. I am usually, but…”

“Shouldn’t need to be,” he said. “They should act better.”

You watched him for a moment, trying to puzzle him out but couldn’t see past his stern face with the strangely open eyes. You didn’t understand him. You weren’t sure you ever would.

“I’ll be fine,” you said when you’d been quiet a little too long. “But thank you.”

He frowned.

“For what.”

“Caring,” you shrugged. “Not many people do. But I’m afraid I need you to look out that window for a minute.”

His frown deepened.

“I need to change,” you said. “Shouldn’t be photographed in the same thing this many times so look out that way, please.”

His jaw quirked but he obeyed, shaking his head a little as he did.

“Shouldn’t be photographed at all,” he muttered, arms crossed tightly over his chest as you got a pair of black leather pants out of your bag and set them on the seat between you and Joel.

“Probably right,” you said, shrugging out of the jacket and adjusting yourself so you could slide your pants down and off, leaving you just in the mesh top. “But comes with the territory.”

You dropped the clothes you’d shed beside you, the velvet of the fabric brushing Joel’s arm and he glanced toward you - just a reaction, you told yourself - before he jerked his head back to look out the window again.

“Oh don’t act like half the planet hasn’t seen me half naked,” you rolled your eyes as you got into the leather pants, a task that was easier said than done in the back seat of an SUV. “I promise, I won’t bite.”

“Right,” he muttered.

You got the pants into place and pulled out another jacket, draping it over your shoulders and putting the other clothes away.

“You’re safe, Big Miller,” your teased, tossing the bag in the trunk.

“Try to make a habit of not seeing my clients naked,” Joel muttered, settling back into his seat.

“Sounds boring,” you said.

He gave you a look and you laughed.

“Don’t worry,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I don’t think you’re at risk of anyone thinking you’re interested in fucking me. You’re safe.”

He just grunted and you smiled a little, looking out the window. There was something comfortable when he was like this. You weren’t sure what to do with a Joel who didn’t seem to loathe you, at least a little bit. Even though you wanted him to like you. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you did.

The paparazzi were waiting for you outside the restaurant, too, but you’d been expecting that. Quinn had told them you’d be here and you made sure your pants were actually zipped before getting out and putting on the show you always did, smiling and waving, taking selfies with fans who’d heard you were going to be there, too.

You kept the show on through dinner, talking with the producers of a period piece you were interested in doing, Joel sitting next to you the entire time, his jaw quirking when Leo joined the table, too.

But Henry didn’t make a surprise appearance and, after a while, you found yourself relaxing into things, a few too many glasses of wine deep and giggling when you left the restaurant.

“You got what you need for the premiere?” Quinn asked as you made your way to the door.

“Frank has a vision,” you said dramatically and Quinn snorted. “Don’t worry, my tits are basically hanging out, the press will love it.”

“Well I’ll see you there,” she said, kissing you on each cheek. “Need Frank to have a vision for me one of these days.”

“Call him,” you said eagerly. “I’m sure he’d work his magic! Oh, we could go somewhere matching, that would be fun!”

“OK, you’re drunk,” Quinn laughed and looked to Joel. “She’s drunk. Make sure she gets out of here safely and doesn’t talk to any of the paps outside?”

“I’m not drunk!” You protested and Quinn laughed, taking the lapels of your jacket in your hands.

“You’re drunk,” she said. “And that’s OK, you’ve been doing a lot lately, you deserve to have a little fun. Just don’t make more work for me in the morning when you do. See you tomorrow at the premiere.”

“The premiere!” You said and she laughed, giving you and Joel a final wave. You turned to Joel. “We know what I’m wearing for the premiere, what are you wearing for the premiere?”

“No one cares what I wear for shit,” Joel said, nudging you toward the door. “C’mon, driver’s pulling up.”

“Why wouldn’t they care?” You pouted, looking over your shoulder toward him. “You’re a good looking man, you know.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, shaking his head.

“What?” You said. “You are! I’m not trying to hit on you but that’s just an objective fact. Even Frank said so.”

The flashes caught you off guard. You’d forgotten, for a moment, that it seemed like half the planet cared that you’d had dinner here. You smiled and waved and Joel kept you walking straight toward the car, keeping you from stopping and talking to the people screaming your name.

“That felt rude,” you said once you were in the car and things were quiet again.

“Too bad,” Joel said, in back beside you again. “Don’t need to be talkin’ to those assholes, anyway.”

“There were some fans in there, too, I think,” you said, settling down into your seat. “But back to what I was saying.”

“No,” Joel said simply. “Seatbelt.”

“What?” You frowned. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean, put your seatbelt on,” he said.

Your frown deepened and you looked around yourself for a moment before Joel made an irritated sound and reached over you, grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it into place.

“OK,” you said, adjusting it and sitting up a little straighter. “Seatbelt’s on. Why can’t we keep talking about it? I’m just saying, you should take the compliment…”

“Not interested,” Joel said.

“Oh will you calm down?” You rolled your eyes. “I promise I’m not trying to get you into bed, you’re safe from my scary Siren claws, I just mean if you dress well tomorrow at the premiere people would notice because you’re a good looking person, that’s all.”

“It don’t matter because I’m not gonna be seen with you,” Joel said, his voice stern. “I’ll be on the other side of where press and shit are but the carpet will be you, some assistant and that Chris guy. Don’t matter what I’m wearing or how good I do or don’t look, alright? Jesus…”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “You really let them talk you into that? I’m shocked.”

“The premiere’s got it’s own security and it’s actually damn good,” Joel said. “Not good enough for me to just stay home but you’ll be alright. Don’t need me in any more goddamn photos with you than there already are.”

You watched him for a moment.

“You still don’t like me, do you?” You asked.

He frowned, looking at you.

“Why’s it matter.”

“I didn’t say it did,” you shrugged. “You just don’t like me.”

“Don’t need to like you,” he said. “Just need to keep you alive. Besides, the whole damn planet likes you, ain’t that enough?”

You scoffed.

“No they don’t.”

“Yeah?” Joel asked. “What d’you call that shit, the hundreds of people waiting for fucking hours just to catch a glimpse of you if it’s not like.”

“They don’t like me,” you said. “They don’t know me. They’re obsessed with a commodity. I’m not a person to them, I’m just a weird combination of every part I’ve ever played, every passing idea they’ve decided to assign to me, some idealized creation that doesn’t exist but they’re convinced is real. You know me, at least a little, and you don’t like me.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m right,” you said, your stomach twisting at that. You shouldn’t care what Joel thought of you but you did. There were so few people on this planet who knew you - actually knew you - and he was one of them. And he didn’t see something in you worth liking.

The car pulled up to your driveway and Joel got out first, going around and opening your door.

“C’mon,” he said, offering you his hand. “Like you or not, you got an early day.”

You took his hand - large and warm and secure - and slipped down to the ground, tottering on your heels enough that it made you laugh, Joel steadying you as you went.

“I trust you to actually get yourself to bed?” Joel asked as he led you inside.

You scoffed.

“Where else am I gonna go?”

“Sure you’d find some way to get into trouble,” he replied wryly.

“I’ll go to bed,” you rolled your eyes. “See you in the morning Big Miller.”

***

Joel watched you head down the hall, weaving a little as you walked before disappearing into your room, trying not to think about the way the fucking leather pants hugged your ass or the way your hips moved when you walked.

“Jesus,” he muttered to himself, stalking off to the kitchen to get a water.

You just don’t like me.

Lord, how he wished that were true.

He liked you alright. Far more than he should. Enough that the entire planet’s fucking obsession with you was starting to make sense.

He tried not to think about that.

Liking you was not a good idea. It was a completely horrible idea, actually. He wanted to go back to how he felt before he’d come here. It seemed like so long ago now, before he knew about your mom and Elise and Anna, before what you’d told him - and clearly hadn’t - about that fucking producer, before he saw you laughing with a friend or making kids smile just because you could. He wanted to go back to before you were a person - a real person, one with fears and wants and hurts - instead of some rich asshole he could pretend was a different species from himself.

It wasn’t a good idea to care about you. He had to protect you, he couldn’t be distracted by things like your fucking feelings. Caring about you was dangerous.

He opened the fridge and went to grab a bottle of water but, instead, took one of the beers that was sitting there. Not that drinking right now was a good idea, either, but fuck it.

Joel brought the beer to the pool and sat on the edge of it, the glow of your bedroom light almost tempting. The curtain covered the window but he could make out the silhouette of you through the glass and gauzy fabric. You must not have a shirt on, the outline of your breasts clear in the hazy, warm light. He watched for a moment as the outline of you pulled on some baggy piece of fabric, covering yourself, and he forced himself to look back at the water.

He wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t.

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought about it the day before, too.

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought he might break his fucking jaw from clenching it as he watched you with the actors during the audition shit the day before.

You with these men all made for the screen, designed to be your fucking equal in a way he never could be even if he tried - which he wouldn’t because it didn’t matter. They read lines with you and he watched as you looked at them with adoration, touched them with some kind of longing, pressed your body to theirs, arching around them to fit yourself to them like you belonged there. Because you did belong there. If not with these men in particular then with a man like them. Not a man like him.

Not that it mattered. It didn’t fucking matter.

No, he wasn’t going to think about those things. He wasn’t going to think about the way your tits looked in that fucking dress that Frank had asked his opinion on. He wasn’t going to think about glancing over at you in the car today when he knew he fucking shouldn’t have and seeing you there, half naked in your fucking see through shirt, your thighs looking so warm and welcoming and fucking soft.

He wasn’t.

He’d thought about it the night before. He wasn’t proud of that but he had, the image of you getting fitted for the damn dress at the forefront of his mind. It was like his head was a scratched record, skipping over that point in time again and again and again.

He tried to think about anything else as he stood in the shower that night but fucking couldn’t, his cock half hard as he tried to shove the memory of you away.

When he went to bed, he caved to his baser instincts. He decided to jerk off. Just to get it out of his system because he couldn’t be still stuck on this the next morning and he didn’t think he could sleep with his balls swollen and aching as they were.

He tried looking at porn but he couldn’t figure out what the fuck he wanted to watch. He was absently scrolling through a site, nothing standing out until something caught his eye. Your name, on a video.

He stared at it for a second, your name followed by EVERY SEX SCENE - COMPILATION.

His mouth went dry. His cock was painfully hard.

Could he watch that? It’s not like it was really wrong - it wasn’t something that had been shared without your permission and it wasn’t actual porn. It was just something he could see if he went on Netflix right now and sought it out.

But you hadn’t made it so fucking assholes like him could jerk off to it. And it wasn’t like you were a stranger now, he knew you. Could he do that?

His dick throbbed at the thought.

Could he stop himself?

Joel clicked on the video, his stomach twisting as he pressed play. There was an ad and he read the comments while it played.

She’s so fucking hot.

Bet she moans like a whore in real life.

Fuck I want to choke her out.

She was hotter before, she hit the wall when she hit 30.

The sound of you moaning in his headphones grabbed his attention, dulling the violent anger that swelling in him when he read what other people said about you. Joel took a shaky breath and made the video full screen. He was already this far down the rabbit hole, he may as well fully commit.

The first chunk of excerpts were from the movie you won the Oscar for and he could only stomach a few seconds of it. You looked disturbingly young to him, just a teenager with a softer version of your face getting on her knees, starting to take off her shirt making him jump ahead. He jumped again when it just felt too strange, watching you start to get undressed or turn around when you were obviously shirtless - seeing your skin this way feeling too keenly wrong.

It was the last scene in the video that he found himself watching in earnest. It was something more recent, you looked almost the same as you did now, none of the childish softness to your face that had been there in the first scenes. It was a romantic scene, one that was carefully shot so the viewer saw nothing illicit. The curve of your bare waist, the edge of the swell of your breast, a hint of your ass.

But Joel liked it this way, this moment not tinged with the wrongness the others were. You moaned as your on screen lover pushed inside you - or mimicked it, Joel corrected himself - your fingers spreading wide over the man’s back.

Joel took his cock in his hand, swallowing hard, his heart beating fast. He worked himself slowly as he watched as the man on screen explored your body, close up shots that revealed nothing interspersed with your face as you gasped in pleasure.

He let himself get lost in that, in the sounds you made, stroking himself harder, faster. He wanted to make you make those sounds. He wanted to press his lips to the delicate skin of your throat and kiss and lick and suck as he sank inside of you. He wanted his hands to run over the softness of you, to press his firm chest to your plush one and feel your heart beat through your skin. He wanted to feel you swallow him whole, his body slotting into yours as he made you come.

You moaned and gasped on the video and he let himself pretend that it was for him and he came, imagining it was you and not his own fucking hand he was buried inside as rope after rope of his come spilled over his skin.

His cheeks got hot as he closed the video and cleaned himself up, a pile of tissues on his nightstand the only sign of his indiscretion.

He tried to clear his mind as he settled in to sleep, reminding himself of what he already knew: You were not meant for something like him. It didn’t matter what he wanted, you were for someone better than him. You needed someone beautiful like you, someone with money and power and purpose. You deserved someone like you. And he needed to get past that, at least enough that he could do his fucking job and keep you safe. That was all he was good for now. He knew that.

He tried to remind himself of that again as he sat by the edge of the pool, his mind lingering on you, on your striking beauty and disquieting kindness and keen talent.

He took a sip of beer.

It didn’t matter, he told himself. None of it mattered.

That was the truth of it. Even if you were his equal - even if he was rich and famous or you were just some waitress or school teacher or something besides the most famous woman on earth - it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like he could do anything about it, anyway.

About a year after he lost Sarah, he’d tried dating. It hadn’t been his idea but Tommy had set him up with a friend of a friend and it hadn’t gone well. Not because she wasn’t a good woman - she was. She was kind, smart, beautiful.

But it didn’t seem to matter what Joel did, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to really care for her. He liked her well enough. Enjoyed her company and enjoyed her body but any real affection seemed far away. He’d broken it off before things would need to get too serious, just the thought of getting any further involved making his chest get tight and his head swim. He wasn’t meant for things like that anymore.

He’d left humanity behind when his daughter had. Anything like love and care was closed to him now, he knew that.

So why did he keep thinking about you?

He downed the rest of the beer and sighed before getting up, looking toward your window. He watched the outline of you pull back the blankets and climb into your bed before stretching and turning out the lamp.

He just shook his head and went inside, putting the bottle in the recycling bin before heading to his own room, trying not to think of you lying on the other side of the wall.

It didn’t make a difference. You were still in his dreams that night.

You were standing opposite him like you had the men you’d read lines with but, instead of the comfortable clothes you’d worn to the audition, you were in the mesh top you’d had on that day. Just that and your panties, like you’d been in the back seat of the car.

“Ready?” You asked, your eyes meeting his and he actually let himself look into them now, and how soft and deep they were. You didn’t wait for his response. “I’ll read you in.”

Your body changed, the physicality of you shifting as you became someone else inside your skin.

“What are you so afraid of?” You asked, almost forcefully.

Joel knew his line. He’d heard it enough the day before.

“You!” He said. “I’m afraid of you, of this power you have… I can’t protect you, I can’t…”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you cut him off, stepping closer. “I need you to trust me.”

You were close enough that you were touching him.

He knew this part, too, but he didn’t stick to his lines.

“But I need to protect you,” he said. “It’s all I know how to do, I… I can’t…”

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, your eyes meeting his, your body arching against his own and he could feel every line of you through his clothes. You moved to kiss him and he went to meet you but you stopped just short, your breath warm on his skin.

“Why didn’t you protect me, Joel?” You whispered, your lips brushed his as you spoke.

He frowned, pulling back ever so slightly.

This wasn’t in the script.

“You should have saved me,” you said, stepping back from him.

Suddenly, he was somewhere new with you. The middle of the road, a burning car to one side of you. You stepped back from him again, cradling your arm to your chest, blood spreading quickly over your skin from a wound at your stomach.

“No,” he reached for you, but you stepped back. Your ankle was at an odd angle, making you limp. “No, this isn’t…”

“You should have been there,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “You should have saved me. Why didn’t you save me, Joel?”

“I…” he began but you collapsed then and he jumped to catch you, pulling your body tight to his chest, panting for breath. “No, no, no, you’re OK, it’s alright, you’re gonna be OK, you hear me?”

“No,” you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. “I won’t. Because you didn’t save me.”

He woke with a start, ready to jump between you and any unseen threat. His chest was tight so he could barely breathe, his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat.

It took him a moment to remember where he was, in a bed that was his but wasn’t, in a foreign land that wasn’t really so different from his own. It was still dark outside and he clutched at his chest, trying to calm himself down.

You were safe. You were safe and he was close enough to you that he could protect you if something happened.

He repeated it in his head like a mantra and it helped but only so much. There was this little, nagging thought that, while he thought you were safe and well, he couldn’t be sure. Not until he saw you.

It was early, still dark outside, but he checked his phone. It wasn’t the middle of the night, at least.

He got up on the off chance that you might be awake, glancing toward your bedroom door and seeing it closed. But it looked like there was a light on in the main part of the house so he followed it, finding you leaning against the counter in the kitchen in a bathrobe, a towel around your head. You were scrolling through something on your tablet, drinking from a mug of coffee. There were only a few lights on, the room still mostly dark, something quiet and almost illicit about his presence there. But the tension in his body eased all the same. You were whole, he could relax.

“Did I wake you?” You frowned, glancing up at him from the glow of the tablet screen.

“No,” he said, almost defensive. “Why.”

“Because,” you shrugged, looking back at the tablet. “You usually wear a shirt when I don’t catch you by surprise.”

He glanced down at himself and almost groaned. He hadn’t even thought about putting something on.

“Just woke up,” he said, going to get a cup of coffee for himself. “Didn’t think you’d be awake yet.”

“Well, I needed to get a workout and a shower in before the glam team shows up,” you said, taking a drink from a green smoothie that he hadn’t noticed before. “Don’t worry, I didn’t go anywhere. I just swam some laps and Quinn’s assistant brought me this.”

You held up the cup and waggled it in his direction. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, because heaven forbid I’m concerned about you gettin’ grabbed by some stalker,” he muttered, getting himself a coffee and leaning against the counter across from you and tried to resist the urge to look down the neck of your robe, something that would be so easy to do with you bent over the counter the way you were.

Then you stood up straight, setting the tablet down, making his life a little easier.

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” you said, your coffee cup tight in your hand.

Joel frowned.

“What d’you mean.”

“I mean,” you took a deep breath. “That I behaved unprofessionally. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, I shouldn't have said the things I did. You’re right, it’s not your job to like me and it doesn’t matter if you do or not. I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable but, if I did, I apologize. You’re good at your job and I appreciate the work you do. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh,” Joel said, taken aback. “Um… It’s… It’s fine.”

“Good,” you said, downing the last of your coffee. “Glam squad will be here in a little while. You may want to hide while you can. I might promise professionalism but I can’t speak for my stylist.”

Joel snorted at that.

“Good advice.”

You smiled tightly, taking the smoothie back toward your bedroom.

“Hey, Siren,” he said, almost wincing as he said it but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to use your real name, the words seeming almost too intimate. But you stopped all the same, facing him with your eyebrows raised. “I meant that. It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, don’t go beating yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, Big Miller,” you smiled a little, softer this time. “I appreciate that.”

Joel ate something and got dressed before people started showing up for you. He met each of them at the door, making sure he knew who was in the house and what they were there to do. Makeup artists and hairstylists and, of course, Frank and his assistant. There was even a team of people escorting a fucking necklace and earrings in some oversized red box that made Joel grind his teeth. It was a little surprising, just how many people it took to get you ready to go to a fucking event.

He couldn’t imagine what they could all be fucking doing, especially not for hours upon hours. It’s not like there was anything on you to improve, he wasn’t sure why the hell it’d take an entire day to get you ready for anything.

But when you eventually emerged from your room, he understood.

Frank was carrying the back of your dress while you held up the front and you were nodding along to something the woman beside you was saying and Joel couldn’t help but stare at you.

It was like you were a sculpture or a painting, more a work of art than any mortal thing. The gown looked like it had been made for you, finding and highlighting every soft curve of your body. There was a diamond necklace with a massive center stone resting in the hollow of your throat, making him think about how delicate your skin would be there. Your makeup perfectly framed your eyes and the arch of your cheekbones and the plush of your lips. Your hair and nails and eyelashes were all longer and more elegant than they’d been just hours before and you were so beautiful it was hard to look at you. It was painful, wrong in some way. You were something beyond him entirely, ethereal and other. He wasn’t meant to look upon the likes of you.

“You ready?” You asked, turning your attention to him.

“Yeah,” he said, voice rougher than he’d meant it to be. “You really gonna watch an entire movie in that thing?”

“Not the most uncomfortable gown I’ve worn, trust me,” you cocked a smile at him. “But we should go, there’s always traffic for premieres.”

Joel just grunted noncommittally. He needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford to let you distract him just because you were beautiful. Not after his dream this morning, not when he knew what was at risk.

He stared determinedly out the window all the way to the theater.

“You’ll have to let me know what you think of it,” you said as the two of you sat in traffic, getting closer and closer to the red carpet.

“Of what,” Joel said, looking your way for the first time in a while, forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your throat.

“Of the film,” you said. “You might be the only person here who will be honest to me about it. I’m curious to know your thoughts.”

“Not a movie critic,” he muttered.

“I know,” you said. “That’s why I’m curious.”

The two of you finally made it to the red carpet and the door opened, your costar there waiting for you with his hand out.

“My God, love,” he said, looking you up and down. “Do you ever look anything but perfect?”

“I do what I can,” you smiled, giving him your hand and letting him help you out of the limo.

Joel got out, too, going around the back of the crowd instead of following you up the carpet, the distance from you making his heart beat faster and his muscles clench.

“Fuckin’ risky,” he muttered to himself, following your path from the other side of the cluster of fans who were pressed against velvet ropes. There was a large screen set up, a camera tracking you and Reese’s progress down the carpet and Joel kept his head on a swivel, watching you and the crowd and the space at the edges for any threats, trying not to grind his teeth at the way your costar’s hands rested at your waist, hip, back.

He’d very nearly relaxed when you and Reese had worked your way down most of the fans. You’d almost made it to the press, the more contained part of the carpet where you’d be more secure. Maybe, he thought, he was just being paranoid. Maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about here.

You started talking to a young man at the end of he cluster of fans, one not much older than the college idiots that seemed to dominate Austin half the fucking year, but there was something about him that set Joel on edge.

You took a selfie with him and signed something for him but he kept clutching at your arm, not letting you move. Reese’s usually carefree expression shifted, eyebrows drawing together, lips pursing. He put his hand at your waist and gave the man a wave, saying something and smiling a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before pulling you away. You smiled warmly at the man, probably saying something nicer than he deserved, and let Reese lead you on but the man wasn’t letting you go. Your eyes went up, immediately finding Joel’s, a spark of fear in your gaze he could see even from this far away.

Both of the man’s hands closed around your wrist and he yanked you back toward him, pulling you out of Reese’s hold and making you stumble and Joel was moving before he fully realized what he was doing.

It was instinctual, shoving his way through the press of fans with no care for who he knocked down on the way. Even with the tightly packed crowd, he was to you in seconds, the man’s hands locked tight around your wrist, bending it at an unnatural angle, Reese trying to pry the man’s hands away from you. Your eyes were wide, the hand that wasn’t in the mans’ grip on his elbow almost soothingly, as though your gentleness was all he needed.

“No, you don’t understand!” The man was pleading. “I love you, I need you, I’ll do everything for you, everything, no one else will ever love you the way I do, I…”

Before he could finish talking, Joel punched him across the face. The blow was hard and sharp and sent the man reeling, almost taking you with him before Reese caught you around your stomach and pulled you back from the velvet ropes.

Event security appeared then, swooping in on the man as he sat on the ground, looking dazed.

“About fuckin’ time,” Joel snapped to them before hurdling the rope and going to you. Reese had angled you away from the camera that had been following the pair of you down the carpet, cradling your wrist in his hands, saying something to you that Joel couldn’t quite hear.

“You OK?” Joel asked, a little breathless. Your head snapped up, your wide eyes meeting his, something almost frantic in your gaze. Your chest was heaving, your breaths coming in fearful little pants and he closed the distance between the two of you quickly, taking the uncanny beauty of your face in his hand. You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek into his palm and his fingers held you tighter than they should but he couldn’t seem to pull back. Your skin was soft, smooth, warm, perfect. You took a deep breath. “You’re safe, it’s OK.”

“Joel,” you said softly, your voice trembling and wet, none of your typical bravado to be found.

“I know,” he said. “But they got him. Not gonna let him hurt you, you’re safe.”

You nodded into him.

“Do we need to leave?” Reese looked to Joel, his brows drawn tight together.

“No,” you said quickly before Joel had a chance to respond. He frowned, going to argue with you but you cut him off. “No, we’re almost to the press, we need to just keep going, it’s fine, I’m fine. We keep going.”

Joel searched your eyes, your face still in his hand and, as afraid as you looked, you were just as determined, too.

“Fine,” Joel clenched his jaw.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“I’ve got you,” Reese said gently to you before turning back to Joel. “I’ll take care of her.”

Joel nodded once, firmly, before finally - painfully - taking his hand back from you. You closed your eyes and took a deep, centering breath. You raised your chin defiantly and steeled your spine and opened your eyes again. You smiled a little as you did and, for the first time, Joel recognized a shift in you. It was like the auditions, when you embodied someone else. You weren’t yourself anymore, you were just another character now, someone with your face and voice but detached from you.

“Let’s go,” you said, leading Reese down the carpet toward the press.

Joel watched until you were at the backdrop, smiling and posing with your costar, making sure event security was close by before slipping back into the crowd.

The man who’d grabbed you had been wrestled away from the crowd, tucked off to the side and now in custody of police. Joel went and found them, introducing himself to the cops and telling them about the stalking threat he’d been hired to protect against.

The man was still yelling, fully sobbing as he said again and again how much he loved you, how all he wanted was to take care of you. Joel wished the police would turn their backs for a moment, just a moment, just long enough for him to get another hit in on him. He wanted to hurt him, scare him, make him realize that you were protected and that he couldn’t get to you.

Joel had never dealt with a stalker before, but he wouldn’t be surprised if this was the guy. The level of obsession, the passion, the willingness to hurt you to get what he wanted made it seem likely.

That was good, he thought. If this was the guy, you were out of immediate danger. You’d be safe - or as safe as someone as famous as you could be. There was a certain sense of peace in him at that.

But there was this keen longing in him, too.

If this was your stalker, his contract would be up. He would go back to Texas with you, pack up the things at your house and say goodbye to this strange semblance of a life he’d found himself in with you and your niece. He’d be without the both of you, alone in the tomb of his house, waiting for the next time he could jump in front of a bullet for someone else so he could feel alive.

He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest at that thought, the sickening feeling in his stomach.

This had been a mistake, this whole fucking job had been a mistake. The second he knew who you were he should have told Tommy no, he couldn’t. You were too close to Sarah, the job too long lasting. It was too big a risk for him, too much of a chance for him to get attached to someone he had no business getting attached to.

“Joel.”

He looked around to find Quinn at his back, her face drawn.

“She alright?” He asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“She made it through the press but she might have a broken wrist,” she said, her voice low. “She’s ducking out the back once the film starts, we need to get her to a doctor. She has fight training starting soon and an injury is going to be who knows how much in production delays…”

Joel bristled.

“And if she’s got a broken fuckin’ bone it needs to be treated.”

“Obviously,” Quinn rolled her eyes. “I thought that went without saying.”

“She’s not just a fucking profit center,” he narrowed his eyes at your manager. “She’s a person.”

Quinn looked at him for a moment, considering him.

“I know that, Joel,” she said gently. “I just wasn’t aware you did.”

Quinn, at least, had the foresight to get your usual SUV to pick you up instead of the limo you’d arrived in. Security let Joel in the back door and you were waiting for him there, looking so out of place among the boxes and storage in your gown and jewels. You were stiff and oddly small, shoulders hunched as you leaned back against a cinderblock wall, cradling your injured wrist to your chest. Someone tried to talk to him but Joel ignored them, instead going straight for you.

“Changed your mind?” He asked, hands in his pockets so he didn’t touch you again.

You looked at him through your lashes, something sharply vulnerable in your eyes for a moment before you straightened and smirked a little.

“Figured going to an afterparty with a wrist the size of a grapefruit was a bad look,” you said, showing your arm to him. Your wrist was swollen and discolored and he resisted the urge to take it gently in his hands. “Don’t want the press to be about this, we want it to be about the movie.”

“Alright, c’mon then,” he said. “Get you checked out.”

He put his arm around you, tucking you against his side as you held your wrist against yourself. He stayed close to you on the drive, your body warm and relaxed against him.

“Do you think that was him?” You asked quietly, voice small.

“I don’t know,” Joel said. His hand was on your arm. Your skin was soft. “I talked to the police, told them about the stalker, they’re gonna investigate…”

“He scared me,” you said softly. “I know there were threats but… It didn’t seem real. I didn’t think anything would happen.”

“I know,” Joel said, his thumb tracing a slow, steady path over your skin. “I’ve got you. Keep you safe.”

He said it as much for himself as he did for you. He tried not to think about why he needed to.

The driver took the two of you to a small doctor’s office that, at this hour, was quiet. A nurse met you both at the back and you were quickly ushered into an exam room and given an x-ray, you in your gown on the cold paper of the exam table a sight that made Joel’s heart clench.

“You did indeed break it,” the doctor said, pointing out a thin line on the x-ray. “It’s a minor fracture, shouldn’t need a full cast and just a splint for three to five weeks.”

“How soon before I can train?” You frowned. “Can I train in a splint?”

“That really what you should be worried about?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

You looked over to him, your eyebrows knitting together.

“There’s a whole movie depending on me, Joel,” you said. “People have contracts, they have bills they need to pay. I can’t just take weeks off.”

“Can’t make a movie if you don’t heal,” he muttered.

“You need to take at least three weeks before you do anything extreme with that wrist,” the doctor said. “If you don’t, you’ll need a cast and you’ll be out of commission even longer.”

“Alright Doc,” you smiled. “You win, I’ll take it easy.”

“Good,” he said. “I’d hate to see you try to hold an Oscar in a cast.”

It was a relief to get you back home again, in a contained space that Joel had gotten to know in the last week. Frank and a hairstylist met you there, the three of you disappearing into your room for a while and Joel considered sitting in his own, not sure he could handle seeing you again but then, he wasn’t sure he could handle not seeing you, either. So he sat on the couch, existing in a state of limbo, not sure what to do next.

“Sounds like you saved the day,” Frank said when he eventually emerged, a garment bag over his arm.

“Dunno about that,” Joel said. “Still let her get her fuckin’ wrist broke.”

“Seems like it could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in,” he said. “Broken wrist will heal.”

Joel just grunted.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Thank you. She’s one of the good ones.”

He left before Joel got a chance to respond. The hairstylist left not long after, a bag of hair in her hands, and, when you didn’t come out right after, he almost thought you’d gone to bed. He was considering doing the same when you slowly, almost cautiously, came down the hall, peering into the living room as though your presence in your own home was somehow illicit.

“Oh,” you said, in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants and wrist splint. The makeup was gone, the long nails and lashes and hair, too. But you were still beautiful, maybe even more so now. It was the most human Joel had ever seen you. “Sorry, I thought you’d be in your room…”

“Don’t need to apologize,” he shrugged. “Your house. You OK?”

“Fine,” you shrugged. “A little sore but… I’ll be fine, it’s just a minor fracture.”

Joel nodded slowly and you stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“I’m going to make tea,” you said. “Eat something solid for the first time today now that I’m out of that dress. Call Ellie, check in. Want to join?”

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say yes, follow you to the kitchen and be next to you, have tea, talk to Ellie. He wanted to keep existing in the same sphere as you, be folded into your life the way he had become the last few months.

But he couldn’t. He knew that. You and Ellie and your lives weren’t for him.

“Should go to bed,” he said instead. “Been a long week.”

You smiled - a little sadly, he thought - but nodded and went to the kitchen and he listened to you just exist for a moment before he left you there alone.

It didn’t seem to make a difference. He dreamed of you again.

It was different this time. You were far away from him, in the t-shirt and sweats you’d changed into, larger than life but out of reach. All he could do was watch as someone hurt you and you looked for him to help you. He ran and ran but he couldn’t reach you, couldn’t do a goddamn thing except watch you hurt because he couldn’t do the one thing he’d been built to do.

He stared at the ceiling when he woke up, his heart pounding and body tense.

He had to stop this. Whatever road he was going down, whatever he was doing, he had to stop. He couldn’t live his life this way, where he was always afraid and waiting for things to go wrong. He’d learned that lesson once, the hard way. He couldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t.

“Ready to get back to the Lone Star State?” You asked, already in the kitchen when Joel got up.

“Guess so,” he said. You watched him, like you were waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“Well,” you said when he was quiet for too long. “I know Ellie is looking forward to you coming back, she told me something about that video game you guys…”

“Look,” Joel cut you off. “Ellie’s a great kid…”

“Agreed.”

“But, if that guy was your stalker, I got no reason to be at your house all the time,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, your shoulders slumping a little. “Right. I hadn’t really… That makes sense. Yeah.”

Joel poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Should go get packed,” he said.

He didn’t wait for a response, just going back to his room to gather his things and avoid you and it was a relief when the car was there, ready to take the two of you to the airport.

“We do have to make one stop on the way,” you said, holding the red box that had shown up yesterday.

Joel frowned.

“Don’t you got people for that?”

“Well, the original plans got a little fucked with the whole ‘crazy man at the premiere’ thing,” you said. “But keep your shirt on, Big Miller, it’ll only take five minutes.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes, wishing he was back in Texas already.

He sat in back next to you, anyway.

The stop at the jeweler was quick - you trading the large and ostentatious red box for a much smaller one - and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ushered onto the plane, the last people aboard as you tucked yourself into the window seat in the front row, a baseball cap tugged low over your face and a sweatshirt covering the brace on your arm.

Joel was tense the entire flight. He hated when people realized you were aboard and started demanding autographs and selfies, when you got up to use the bathroom, when the plane hit turbulence and he knew there wouldn't be a damn thing he could do to save either of you if the plane went down and that level of powerlessness disturbed him at his core.

He’d been stupid with you. Careless, reckless, dumb. He knew better now, he knew where giving a fuck led and it was nowhere good. He thought that wasn’t a risk with you, that your spoiled fucking attitude and obscene wealth and the ease of your life would make it so he could never care for you but he was wrong. He gave a shit. For the first time in five years, he cared.

And he needed to get far away from that before it killed you both.

He went wordlessly to his room at your house in Austin when you got there, Seth beating you both to the house to take over so Joel could have a few days off. He grabbed a few things he knew he’d want and resolved to ask Seth to pack the rest for him when the police confirmed that it had, indeed, been your stalker last night. For now, he just needed to get out of here and get away from you.

“Hey, Joel!” You followed after him as he stalked toward his truck, his duffle over his shoulder.

He gritted his teeth and turned to face you.

“What.”

You all but flinched back from him, blinking in surprise at his curt tone. He knew he was being short with you but it needed to happen. It had to.

“Oh,” you said, the smaller red box from the jeweler in your hands. “I just…” You thrust it toward him, looking at him with wide and oddly honest eyes. “I got you something. I ordered it before the thing yesterday, just to say thank you for everything in LA, but it can be kind of a going away gift now, too, since… well, anyway.”

He took it, the fact that you seemed out of sorts disorienting, and opened it. Inside was a watch. It was simple, rectangular with a silver case and black leather strap, but obviously luxurious.

“It’s engraved,” you smiled, fidgeting with your sweatshirt sleeves. “Which is probably dumb but I couldn’t resist, I’m a sucker for shit like engraving, don’t ask me why…”

“You think this is what I want?” He asked, holding up the box, voice cold.You just blinked at him for a moment. “That I want some fancy fucking jewelry? That I’m like your rich fucking friends you can just buy off or something?”

“What?” You looked at him, hurt. “No, no, I… I just… Yours is broken and I wanted to say thank you for…”

“For me doin’ my job,” he cut you off. “That’s what this was, a job. We’re not friends, you don’t need to thank me for shit. You paid me, I protected you, end of story. I don’t want your fancy fucking watch, I don’t want…”

“Then sell it!” You snapped, angry now. “Consider it a tip, run it over with your car because you hate me so fucking much, tell the tabloids about how the movie star bought you a present, I don’t care! I know you’re thrilled to be rid of me, anyway. Nice knowing you, Miller. Have a nice life.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, you stalked back into your house, leaving him there with nothing left but a hollow ache in his chest and the watch that he wished he could find a home for on his arm.

Next Chapter

A/N: Look. If you're here because you've read my other stuff, are we at all surprised that we ended up here? Is anyone surprised that I'm back in my natural habitat - torturing Joel Miller - yet again?

I wish I knew why I was like this, I really do, but alas, here we are. Thanks for reading it and for putting up with my total lack of a posting schedule. I really appreciate you being here and caring about these characters enough to read the monster chapters I put out about them.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen@eff4freddie@brittmb115@copperhalfcent@r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #tsats #the savage and the sanctuary

142 notes · View notes

thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 10 months ago

Text

Devil's Snare part.5

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Description: Aemond introduces Y/N to his mother as his betrothed, much to the displeasure of Otto Hightower. The strength of their love for one another is tested by the whispers which spread throughout the court of the one-eyed Prince and his strange choice to wed his handmaiden. All the while, Aemond is insistent that Y/N meet Vhagar.

Previous part

Writer's note: I am so sorry this took so long! I had major writer's block and overthought the hell out of it. Its giving "started making it, had a breakdown, bon appetit" for the people who get that reference 😂. Also wanted to avoid HOTD content when the leaks happened. We finally get the wedding in this part so shout out to @ateliefloresdaprimavera this one's for you! Unsure whether you guys want this to continue into the dance of dragons plot, I might need to diverge from canon. I thought I'd do a Lord of the Tides part next as a test run.

Warnings: female reader, canon typical misogyny, slut shaming, Granny Vhagar (in the flesh this time), sexual innuendo but no smut (sorry, I just don't read it so don't think I could write it well), lengthy as always.

Y/N felt nervous butterflies fluttering against her ribcage as Aemond led her along the halls of the Red Keep to his mother's chambers, grounded only by the feel of his hand wrapped around hers. It was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, so anxious was she of the Queen's response to her son's decision to marry her, a mere handmaiden. But she could not bear to hold Aemond back any longer, not when his face glowed with such happiness. Besides, she did not think he'd allow her to go back on her word now she'd promised herself to him. He'd all but taken her breath away with the force with which he'd kissed her and grabbed her hand to pull her from his chambers almost immediately afterwards in his eagerness. She'd subconsciously halted where she stood, her thoughts panicked and frenzied as she realised the weight of her words and that Aemond really meant to waste no more time in informing his mother, the Queen herself. Aemond, however, was all too impatient to marry the girl he loved.

Stopping as he felt her hand go limp in his he turned to her, assessing the panic on her face. Suddenly taking hold of her waist, he pulled her against him so that their bodies seemed to melt into one another, causing Y/N to blush a furious shade of scarlet as she felt the contours of his body against hers. Aemond smirked, always pleased he was able to have such an affect over her. "I'm afraid my patience has been entirely spent, my love. I can tarry no longer in making you my wife. I will carry you to my mother's chambers if I must." His hand tightened around her waist, not enough to hurt but enough to make her gasp as she realised he may actually be serious. Strengthening her grip on his hand, she stuttered out a semblance of a response. "That will not be necessary, My Prince." Aemond's eyebrows shot up at that. "I am no longer just Aemond to you?"

Y/N's blush deepened at her blunder, hoping she hadn't offended him in her state of nervousness. "I am sorry, my love. It just slipped out."

Aemond's face softened and he lightly trailed a hand across her face. "You have not called me that before." Y/N realised he was right. Aemond was so free with his affections, with terms of endearment, but this seemed to be the last layer of intimacy she had struggled to breakthrough. Y/N looked down, somewhat ashamed that she had been so slow to offer Aemond the love he gave so freely in return, feeling strongly that she did not deserve him. Her chin was tilted upwards by a gentle hand as Aemond brushed his lips against hers, the ghost of a kiss. "It matters not what you call me, only call me yours and I should be content." Y/N felt such a strong surge of love for Aemond in that moment, in light of his understanding of her difficulty expressing affection and his unfaltering patience with her nonetheless. She felt her nerves dissipate a little, and grabbing his hand more resolutely she led them from his chambers herself.

Aemond had been pleased Y/N had gone willingly, he had not been jesting when he told her he'd carry her to his mother's chambers. He knew that she loved him and it was only the opinions of others that concerned her, and Aemond could no longer allow such unfounded fears to delay their union. He wanted her and by the grace of the Seven she wanted him too. That was all that mattered to him now, and he was prepared to fight for the girl he loved, from any opposition they may face. Aemond strode purposefully towards his mother's chambers, having no care for the lateness of the evening, but slowed as he felt Y/N's grip loosen oncemore, looking back to see her tailing behind him. Sighing, he lowered his torso to meet her eyes. "Y/N I will put you over my shoulder. Unless you have decided you will not have me after all?" He hated the tinge of insecurity that laced his voice.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with alarm. "That is not what I want. I wish to be your wife. I am only frightened of meeting your mother."

Aemond took hold of her elbows. "I assure you there is nothing to fear. She will love you in time as I do. I will not allow anyone to come between us."

"You sound so certain."

Aemond shot Y/N a roguish grin. "You can depend upon it. Come now." Reclaiming her hand he pulled them down the final corridor which led to his mother's chambers, addressing his mother's sworn protector before they'd even reached the end of the hall. "Ser Criston, I would speak with my mother."

Ser Criston's eyebrows pulled into a confused frown as his eyes flitted between the Prince's serious expression and the hand which clasped his handmaiden's. "The hour is late, my prince. Her grace is presently engaged with the Hand of the King."

Aemond startled slightly before schooling his features into a mask of calm, not wishing to alarm Y/N any more. He had not expected to contend with both his mother and Otto Hightower this night, but it mattered little. He had no intention of backing down on the matter of his marriage to Y/N, whatever the opposition.

"It is no matter Cole, my mother will be gladdened by the news I bring her."

Aemond was not certain of this fact, but he assumed an air of self-assurance nonetheless as he released Y/N's hand to pat Criston on the shoulder, pushing the door to his mother's chambers open.

His mother's eyes snapped up to him as he entered, Y/N shuffling in behind him whilst lightly clutching onto his tunic. He discreetly reached behind him to take hold of her free hand, hoping to provide her some degree of comfort. His mother looked flushed as if she had just been shouting and his good eye immediately sought out the object of her distress, landing on his grandsire Otto whose expression was one of irritation. Aemond narrowed his eyes at the scene before him, clearly he had interrupted an argument. He loved his mother and had never forgotten how she had been the only one to speak up for him and defend him on driftmark when he had lost his eye. Fixing Otto with a stern glare he returned his gaze to his mother. "Mother, I wish to introduce you to my betrothed. I have asked Y/N to marry me and, happily, she has agreed to become my wife." Aemond spoke with finality, he would not prevaricate or draw this out any longer than he needed to. An eery silence followed for an agonisingly long time before Alicent rose to meet Aemond, hands reaching out towards him. He regretfully released Y/N's hand to take his mother's proferred hands. She spoke softly as if to a young child who needed to be coaxed away from doing something dangerous. "Aemond, she is your handmaiden."

"She was my handmaiden, she is my lady now."

Alicent shook her head and closed her eyes, as if when she opened them again the image of Aemond and his handmaiden would only have been a figment of her imaginings. When she opened them and observed her son's determined expression, she blanched. "Aemond, you cannot mean to marry a servant. You are a Prince of the realm and you know it is your duty to marry for the benefit of the crown. I'm sure your handmaiden is lovely, but she is not a suitable marriage prospect."

Aemond's own tone sharpened. He misliked his mother talking as if Y/N was not standing right behind him, her own hand tightening on his tunic.

"Mother, I did not come to argue with you. The matter is settled. I love her and will marry no other. Would you deny me this happiness I have been fortunate enough to find, after all I have lost?" Aemond began to hope his mother was losing her resolve as her eyes softened, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek. But it was at that moment that Otto hightower broke his silence. "Will you truly entertain this nonsense Alicent?"

Then turning to Aemond, "Are you so foolish boy? Or have you got the girl with child? There are other ways of dealing with this than sullying your title with a marriage to a low born girl." Alicnet had to push against Aemond's chest as his face contorted in anger, taking a step forward towards his grandsire. He practically snarled in response. "I will not suffer insults to my betrothed or allow you to taint her honour with your vile assumptions."

Otto's anger only rose to match Aemond's as he shouted back at him. "It would be an embarasment for your family, for your House, for the crown itself. Do you care for nothing but your own base desires, boy?"

Aemond's voice was dangerously low and seething. "My love for Y/N is pure, there is nothing base about it. I'll thank you to watch your words, grandsire. I intend to serve my House dutifully with Y/N at my side. Am I not our House's strongest sword? Do I not ride the largest and most ancient dragon in the world?"

Seemingly writing Aemond off as a lost cause, he looked around the Prince to the girl cowering behind him. Perhaps she might be swayed to sense.

"Girl, you must know that this would be a disastrous match for the realm. I am sure you must feel something for the Prince. Would you not then see him ascend to his rightful position and marry for the good of the realm?

The girl's face turned disconsolate. Aemond lost his composure entirely, brushing past his mother and advancing on his grandsire, each word laced with venom. "Do not speak to her as if she were just an object to be dispensed with when it is no longer of use."

Otto's eyes flitted back to the girl, ignoring his nephew's attempts at intimidation. He was sure Ser Criston would intervene if it came to violence.

"What will you take to renounce this farcical pact? A girl like you should want for security, the path you tread will offer you only strife and judgement. Will you take coin, jewels, an elevated position perhaps?"

He watched his nephew's reaction closely for any sign he would strike, coiled as he was like a viper.

Instead, he saw his nephew's face crumple and his good eye widen. Mayhaps he feared the girl would take him up on his offer.

Looking back to the girl, Otto was startled by the fierceness of the glare she now levelled at him. She'd only seemed a timid creature moments before, easily malleable to his will. She took determined steps forward until she stood next to Aemond, taking his hand in hers. Looking steadfastly up at Otto, she spoke for the first time with an air of confidence he had not expected from her. "I love Prince Aemond and I will not abandon him, whatever you offer me." His nephew's face softened as he gazed down at the girl, perhaps he had not expected such a reaction from her either. Before Otto could incite Aemond enough to strike him, Alicent intervened. "Aemond, we will discuss this further tomorrow. I will have separate chambers prepared for Y/N. She cannot be permitted to continue in service as your handmaiden if these are your wishes. It would continue to raise questions." Alicent knew her son. He was determined and unlike to make a vow he did not mean.

Aemond smiled at his mother, pleased by her softened resolve, though she still looked unconvinced. "Very well Mother, thank you. I will see you on the morrow." Lightly pulling Y/N with him he quickly strode from the room, not stopping until they had passed along several hallways and were far from his mother's chambers. Halting without warning, Y/N almost bumped into him before he caught her, wrapping her up in his arms and leaning his head down to rest against her shoulder.

"Thank you, my brave girl."

Aemond had felt a deeper scar than the one he bore upon his face begin to heal over as Y/N had affirmed her love for him, standing up to the Hand of the King himself to remain at his side. He could not put into words how much her actions had meant to him, knowing how difficult it must have been for her to do so. He cursed himself for believing, just for a moment, there was a possibility of Y/N taking Otto up on one of his sordid offers, so used was he to being the second choice as the second son, and even then it was only Rhaenyra his father truly cared for. He knew how inherently good Y/N was, how she returned his love, and decided his faith would never falter again. Releasing his hold on her he slid his hand down her arm before interlocking their hands. "Come, I will walk you back to the servant's quarters for tonight. Tomorrow you will have more adequate chambers fit for a princess."

Y/N lightly swatted at Aemond's chest. "Aemond, it would scare the servant's half to death for a Prince to show up unannounced at this hour. Rumours will run rife. And I am no princess."

"I do not care, my love I wish to walk my betrothed safely to her door. Besides, you shall be my princess shortly and I wish you to be treated as such. I would shower you with jewels if you would allow it."

Y/N blushed, looking down at the ground. "I have no need of extravagant gifts, Aemond. You know I have always managed quite well with my room in the Keep and with less before that."

Aemond frowned, his heart dropping at the thought of the hardships Y/N must have faced whilst his every need was tended to in the Keep. "I do not like to think of you suffering any deprivation." Y/N squeezed his hand comfortingly. "It was not so bad, I was very lucky to secure a position in the crown's service at a young age."

Aemond tucked a tendril of hair behind Y/N's ear, smiling softly at her and humming as if in thought. "Well, if you will not take jewels, I will need to find another way to express my adoration for you, little one."

Aemond made good on his promise, and everyday a squire would arrive at Y/N's newly appointed chambers to deliver a bouquet of bluebells to her door. Y/N had no idea how Aemond was managing to get hold of so many bluebells, aware as she was that they did not grow within the grounds of Kings Landing, but she adored them and her heart fluttered at the Prince's thoughtfulness. He had heeded her previous rejection of jewels, but he sent her gifts he thought would be more acceptable to her instead; books he thought she might like to read, as thanks to him and Helaena this had become a favourite past time of hers, new gowns in the colours of his House, which made the prospect of their marriage feel more real to her, that she really would be his lady. But it was the flowers that made her feel closer to him as her abrupt change of circumstances meant she could no longer spend time with him alone in his chambers, and she missed him when he was attending to his duties during the day.

She would have been bored out of her mind if not for the company of Helaena who was only too happy to receive her as a sister. She spent the better part of her days in Helaena's chambers, either playing with the little Prince Jahaerys and his sister Princess Jahaera, or discussing her upcoming nuptials with the Princess Helaena. Aemond came to see her at least once a day when it was permitted in his sister's chambers, or she would come to watch him in the training yard. But she misliked the stares she received and found herself seeing Aemond less and less as a result. The Queen had tentatively consented to her marriage with Aemond, despite the Hand's open distate, but she had not spoken to Y/N since. She was all too aware how the Queen and her father saw her as a burden to the Prince, to House Targaryen. As such, the wedding was set to be a small affair, which suited Y/N's shy nature. Though she did hope that in time she might be able to bond with the Queen if she truly saw how happy she and Aemond were together. What mother would not wish their son to be happy?

Rounding a corridor on the way to Helaena's chambers, Y/N heard giggles and muffled whispers, halting in her tracks as she heard the repeated refrain of Aemond's name.

"The Prince Aemond...marrying his handmaiden."

"With child, surely?"

"It is a wonder she is not frightened of him with that scar."

"I could not do it."

"Perhaps no other ladies of the court could stand it?"

She struggled to discern the nature of the conversation between the three ladies of the court, only picking out bits and pieces at first. But when she pieced it together she felt her blood heat as outrage rose up within her.

Before she could think through her actions, Y/N stepped out from behind the wall which concealed her and stormed towards the three ladies who glanced up at the heavy tread of her steps. "You should not speak of the Prince in such a manner. Have you no shame, no respect for the Crown?" The lady closest to her scowled, shifting her raven hair over her shoulders as she upturned her nose at Y/N. "Who are you to presume you can dictate what we should or should not discuss? This is a private conversation."

Y/N was sure she must resemble Vhagar, though she'd never seen the she-dragon, with her own flames pouring forth from her in the form of her heated cheeks. "I am the Prince Aemond's betrothed you speak of. I will not allow you to sully the Prince's name with your false rumours or distasteful remarks about the scar he bears through no fault of his own." The raven haired lady's tone turned mocking then. "So you are the handmaiden then? How dare you talk to your betters this way? Know your place girl."

Y/N's fists clenched unconsciously. "My place is beside the Prince, or defending him from ignorant people like you who would insult him over something entirely out of his control. I must refute your cruel assumptions. The Prince is a noble warrior, a fierce dragon rider, and a dedicated scholar, deserving of your respect. Greater still, he is kind and a gentleman, and I do not fear him in the slightest. Any lady would be lucky to receive his affections and it is my good fortune that he has decided to bestow them on me, though I am but a lowly handmaiden as you say. This only speaks more to his character, that he is able to see past the physical appearance of things, unlike certain members of this court."

Chest heaving, her breath coming in short pants as she finished her tirade, Y/N glared at the three ladies, daring them to speak another word against Aemond.

The raven haired girl took a step towards her, a clear attempt at intimidation. "Be careful girl. You are not wed yet. Who knows how long you will have Prince Aemond's favour. The love of a Prince is a fickle, fleeting thing." When Y/N only continue to scorch her with her glare, the three ladies stalked away. Y/N could feel herself still trembling slightly in her anger at the insults levelled at Aemond. She had never stood up to anyone, her naturally timid nature and status as a servant did not lend themselves to such agency. Though she felt a sense of satisfaction in having done so in defence of the man she loved.

Alicent Hightower had been making her way to her daughter's chambers when she came across the odd sight of the girl, Y/N, squaring her shoulders and raising her voice to three ladies of the court. Shocked at first that she should be so brazen, she stepped forward to intervene, quickly relenting once she approached close enough to hear the nature of the girl's tirade. Instead, the Queen felt her heart warming to the girl as she heard her passionate defence of her son, beginning to understand the depth of Aemond's feelings for the girl. No one save herself had ever defended him so steadfastly. And Alicent could admit that even she had been somewhat lax in expressing her affections for Aemond. This girl clearly loved her son, unconditionally so, and Alicent could not but help to feel grateful to her for this fact. She loved all of her children and wanted them to feel safe and loved. The King barely took note of Aemond, no matter how hard he tried to embody the traits of a true Targaryen, whilst he revered Rhaenyra's plain featured bastards. It was an insult to all decency. In that moment, Alicent resolved to accept this marriage fully and try to bond with the girl, Y/N she reminded herself. Aemond deserved to be loved and she would defend his right to marry the girl should her father or husband express any further opposition.

Aemond was surprised to be summoned to his mother's chambers that evening, she spent the greater portion of her time with Helaena and rarely sent for him. Though he often wished she would show him more affectation as his mother. He grew concerned she wished to talk him out of his engagement with Y/N, already having tentatively expressed her apprehension to the match to no avail. He would not hear anymore on the matter if that were the case.

"Prince Aemond, your grace."

"Thank you Ser Criston."

Aemond entered his mother's chambers as Cole announced him, back ramrod straight and hands clasped behind his back.

Hi mother waited until Cole had shut the door behind him before taking both his hands in her own. "I wish to talk to you on Y/N, Aemond."

"Mother..."

"No, let me speak my peace. I wish only to tell you that I approve of your marriage to the girl and give you my blessing. I will defend your choice alongside you should the need arise again. Though I believe your grandsire has written it off as a lost cause and you well know your father's condition."

Aemond squeezed his mother's hands, hardly believing such a change could have come about so suddenly. "I thank you, Mother. May I ask what has prompted you to change your opinion on Y/N?"

Aemond felt the love he had always wished for from his mother as she smiled warmly up at him. "You'll be pleased to know your betrothed is not so timid as she seems. I came across her defending you quite passionately against three members of the court today. She would hear no insult to your name or your intentions towards her, and made her love and respect for you abundantly clear to the three ladies...and to myself. I confess myself greatly moved by her love for my son."

Aemond felt pride rise within him at Y/N's defence of him and his love grow for her if that were even possible. Taking his mother's hand to place a kiss upon her knuckles, he released her to go and thank his lady. "My heart is gladdened to hear of it mother, and grateful for the affect it has had upon your own. I will bid you goodnight now."

Y/N jumped at the sound of a knock at her chamber door. The hour was late and she had been preparing for bed. She was not entirely certain she should be opening the door in her night dress at this hour but did not wish to be rude if it were a matter of importance, a summons from the Queen herself even. Y/N had barely taken the lock of the latch and opened the door before she was unceremoniously crushed to Aemond's chest, shrieking as she was lifted into the air and spun until her back met the door as he quickly swung it closed, shushing her as he did so. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck reflexively, though she knew he would not drop her. "Aemond what in the Seven..?"

Aemond silenced her with a kiss that took her breath away as he continued to hold her against his body. Melting into his kiss, Y/N tangled her hands in his hair, not caring anymore for the abruptness of his greeting. Pulling away so they could catch their breath, Aemond gently set her down though he kept a hold on her waist. To Y/N, his face looked ethereal in the soft glow of the candle light as he smiled at her.

"I apologise for startling you, my love. I did not wish anyone to see me enter given the lateness of the hour."

Y/N was half dazed by Aemond's proximity and the tingling sensation on her lips from when he'd kissed her, but she willed herself not to just stand gaping at him. "And what brings you to my chambers at this hour?" Her tone was light and teasing. She had missed him and was glad he'd come to see her whatever his reason.

Aemond stepped closer towards Y/N before bringing his lips to her jaw. Y/N gasped softly, but pulled him closer to her instinctively as he kissed down her jaw and spoke against her skin. "I came to thank you for defending me. My mother spoke of it to me."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as Aemond began to kiss her neck but tried to maintain a degree of composure to respond to him. She had not been aware of the Queen's presence at the time. "I did not like to hear others speak badly of you. They do not know you as I do." Y/N lifted a hand to stroke his hair as Aemond hummed in response, planting a kiss against her clavicle just above the neckline of her night gown. Her eyes flew open as she realised for the first time that she was, in fact, only in her night gown and the situation was less than appropriate. Pushing Aemond back slightly by his shoulders she tried to keep her voice quiet so as not to alert anyone who might pass by to Aemond's presence in her chambers. "Aemond, I'm only in my night gown!"

Aemond looked confused that she had only just realised this. "I'm well aware, you look beautiful."

Y/N blushed scarlet. "That's not what I meant. But if we're seen together like this, people will think..." She trailed off, hoping Aemond would understand her concerns without her having to spell it out.

Aemond grinned at her. "I only wished to thank my lady for defending my honour. Having done so I shall depart forthwith. I will be discreet." He took Y/N's hand and pulled her with him as he quietly opened the chamber door, glancing around for any signs of movement. Quickly turning to bid his lady goodnight with a final peck on the lips, he shut the door behind him and hurried back to his own chambers, unable to contain his smile as the image of Y/N's flushed cheeks and hair mussed from his ministrations swam in his mind.

Y/N shivered as a cold breeze blew through the courtyard of the Red Keep, blowing whisps of hair into her eyes, which she quickly brushed away. Aemond had asked her to meet him that morning for she knew not what, but the presence of the horse being saddled by a young squire by the steps of the Keep entrance concerned her somewhat.

"Y/N"

At the sound of her voice she looked up to see Aemond taking the steps three at a time to meet her, immediately wrapping an arm around her waist to kiss her as he reached the bottom.

"Good morning, my love" He pulled back to smile at her, the biting cold of the crisp morning seemingly having no affect on his mood. She supposed the blood of the dragon spared him.

Placing a hand against his chest she realised she was right as heat seemed to radiate from him whilst she stood there shivering. "Good morning, Aemond."

Taking hold of the hand that was on his chest in both of his, Aemond began rubbing his hands up and down hers "Your hands are cold. We should head off while the skies remain clear." With that he began pulling her towards the horse, just as she'd feared. She'd never ridden before and could foresee embarassment just at the thought of mounting the horse. "And where are we going, Aemond?"

Without stopping Aemond called back to her over his shoulder. "To visit Vhagar. It is important to me that you become acquainted." Y/N blanched, she'd expressed her interest in dragons early on to Aemond, they were almost like gods to her, but also her fear of them...and Vhagar was the largest and fiercest of them all. Aemond had taken to mentioning Vhagar with increasing regularity to her and she should have realised this was inevitable. His grip on her hand was tight and carried with it a sense of finality. Sighing and accepting her fate, hoping the dragon wouldn't cook her on sight, she asked the other question that was on her mind.

"Why do we have need of a horse to see your dragon? The dragon pit is within walking distance, is it not?"

"Vhagar is too large for the dragon pit. She resides on the outskirts of the city."

Y/N gulped. Aemond was always so nonchalant about his fearsome dragon, as if she were a friend to him rather than a fire breathing beast. She could not be so calm about the danger.

As Aemond released her hand to take the reigns of the horse from the squire, she looked sceptically at the saddle. Before she could make a disastrous attempt at mounting the horse, warm hands lifted her by the waist onto its back. Aemond followed swiftly, positioning himself behind her.

Y/N blushed as Aemond reach around her to take the reigns, encompassing her in his arms as the horse broke into a canter. His breath tickled the hair by her ear as he leant his head on her shoulder. "Relax." She realised she had been sitting stiff as a board, tilted forward, and leaned more fully into him, her back pressing against his chest. She felt a sense of security in Aemond's arms, even as she want to meet a dragon, his warmth seeping into her.

Aemond smiled as he felt Y/N shift closer to him, basking in her proximity and how far they had come for her to be so comfortable with him now. He'd been bemused at the look on her face as she'd approached the horse, tentatively placing her smaller hand on the saddle. He doubted she had any or at least very little experience with horse riding. Lifting her up onto the horse himself and wrapping his arms around her to take the reigns, he thought to himself that he should have invented an excuse to do so long before.

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by Y/N's gasp as what she'd thought had been a huge mountain moved and lifted its head, seemingly sensing its rider's approach. Not a mountain...Vhagar.

"It is alright, Y/N. She will not harm you. I am here."

Bringing the horse to a stop a safe distance away from the she-dragon, Aemond jumped down before turning to lift Y/N down. Vhagar was looking inquisitively at them and Y/N feared she was wondering whether Aemond had brought her a snack, though she was also awestruck by the sight of a real dragon before her. "Stay here a moment, I will calm her before I introduce you."

With that he approached the large dragon as if she were only a small dog, speaking softly to her and patting her snout when he was close enough.

"Lykirri Vhagar, dohaeras."

Y/N felt her lips quirk up in an involuntary smile and her cheeks heat at the smooth, low tone of Aemond's voice as he spoke in High Valyrian. She had not heard him speak it before but found it unspeakably attractive. Y/N could not understand what Aemond was saying, but whatever it was seemed to have a calming affect on the she-dragon as she rested her head back on the ground, not even looking at Y/N anymore. She could not school her features before Aemond looked back at her, returning to her side and looking down at her questioningly. "I do so love to see you blush, might I inquire as to the cause on this occasion?"

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her up at his directness, but as she began to turn from Aemond to hide her glowing cheeks, he only took hold of her elbow and turned her back towards him. "There is no need to be embarassed, Ñuha prūmia." As her blush deepened and she squirmed away from him realisation dawned on Aemond's face, and he graced her with a knowing smirk.

"Ah, I see."

Y/N felt the need to explain herself, but only managed to stumble over her own words. "It is only that I like to hear you speak in Valyrian, it has an elegance to it. I mean to say that I find the sound of your voice comforting. Wait, that sounds worse." Flustered she placed her head in her hands, hearing Aemond chuckle softly as he prised her hands from her face. "I am glad you like the sound of my voice, my darling, and I'll speak to you in High Valyrian more often if it should please you.

Brushing his hand over her blazing cheek he brought his face low to speak against her ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Iksā gevie, Issa jorrāelagon."

A shiver went down Y/N's spine, though she did not understand the meaning of the words. "What does it mean?"

Aemond pulled back, his smile widening at her physical reaction to his voice. "Do you truly wish to know?" Y/N narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the cunning glint in Aemond's eye, resolving to just ask Helaena later. She hoped it was not anything too crude. "I'm suddenly not so sure I do." Aemond patted her cheek affectionately before taking her hand in his. "Come then, I wish you to meet Vhagar. She is calm now. It is safe."

Interlocking their fingers, Aemond gently pulled Y/N towards Vhagar until she was close enough to touch the she-dragon. Pulling their joint hands up, he placed Y/N's palm on Vhagar's side. The Prince observed Y/N's face switch from one of trepidation to a look of of wonder as he smoothed their hands down the tough surface of Vhagar's scales. His dragon was not perturbed in the slightest, a relaxed hum reverberating through her as she huffed out soft tendrils of smoke.

He knew that Vhagar could feel the great importance the girl beside him held for Aemond, could feel his love for her, through their shared bond. And as such she would not harm her. But it warmed his heart to see the two great loves of his life interact. His bond with Vhagar had been the most important connection in his life before he met Y/N. She was his only friend, their bond with one another unequivocal, unbreakable. Introducing Y/N to Vhagar felt like baring the most essential parts of his soul to her. He hoped that Y/N might even agree to a ride with Vhagar in the future as she grew more comfortable with his dragon, and his heart raced with excitement at the prospect. There was no feeling like riding high in the skies, as if touching the heavens, nothing so pure as the trust between a dragon and it's rider. Aemond wanted to experience this with Y/N in time.

Y/N allowed the Queen to manage preparations for her wedding entirely, grateful there would only be a small wedding feast afterwards. The Queen had been nothing but warm and welcoming to her since she'd witnessed Y/N defending her son so vociferously. Y/N would be forever grateful to Helaena for teaching her the basics of dancing and only hoped she would not embarass herself too greatly, though she was excited at the prospect of dancing with Aemond. There was only one matter she had a strong opinion on, and that was her dress. One conversation with Helaena had convinced her that her dress should be blue. The Queen had seemed unsure at first, the common colour being white, but did not see the harm if Y/N was adamant.

Though Y/N was racked by nerves on the morning of her wedding, she was overjoyed by the way her dress had turned out. The soft midnight blue fabric and the golden detailing shifted elegantly as she moved, and Y/N thought it resembled the night sky. She only hoped Aemond would also like it. Butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach as she faced the long expanse of the aisle of the Sept, her arm interlocked with the Prince Aegon's.

Aemond's brother had been surprisingly pleasant to her, despite his reputation for being somewhat of a menace at court, and had offered to walk her down since she had no surviving male relatives of her own to do so. Searching Aemond out, she felt her nerves settle somewhat at the sight of him, handsome garbed in his ivory tunic and with a soft smile upon his face as he took her in. Taking his hand in hers, Y/N felt a wave of calm rush over her at how their hands fit together, as if made for one another. Her feeling of contentment, of pieces falling into place, only intensified as they spoke their vows and Aemond placed a cloak embroidered with the colours of House Tagaryen over her shoulders.

The wedding feast itself passed with little ceremony, including only a small gathering of nobles. Aegon had sunk into his cups early into the evening and managed to make a fool of himself drunkenly pulling Y/N about the room in the semblance of a dance, insistent that he should "welcome his new sister into the family properly" before she was rescued by her husband. Her heart fluttered at the thought as she placed her hands on his shoulders and he pulled her close to lead her in the steps of the dance. Aemond did not much like to dance, but that night he did for Y/N and found he did not mind so much when it was his wife he held in his arms rather than the simpering noble ladies that had been thrust upon him at feasts before. As the hour grew late and Y/N felt herself growing overwhelmed under the watchful gaze of the courtiers, they made to retire to their chambers. Aegon had just barely spoken the words "bedding ceremony" before Aemond fixed him with a glare so fierce he immediately quietened and went back to his cups.

Shutting the doors to their shared chambers, his heart warming at the thought, Aemond's smile fell as he turned to see his wife anxiously wringing her hands and shifting from one foot to the other. He gently gripped her shoulders. "Are you well, my love?"

"I confess I am a little afraid." Realisation dawned upon him. It was not uncommon for ladies to be concerned about their wedding night, but he did not wish his wife to be.

"You needn't be. We do not have to do anything. I can just hold you."

Aemond's felt a surge of guilt at Y/N's still uneasy expression, he hated to think she felt she had to do anything she was not yet comfortable with out of duty. It was more than enough for him that she was now his wife. He wished her to understand that he would never force her, or pressure her for anything more than she would allow.

Gently taking her hand he purposefully pulled her away from the bed to the chaise in the centre of the room. "Come, sit and talk with your husband a while."

He hoped if he continued on as they normally would, Y/N would feel less nervous. Keeping hold of her hand in both of his he turned to her, mouth quirked up in a conspiratorial smirk. "You have been thoroughly inducted into House Targaryen now with all its foibles. I hope Aegon's fool hardy behaviour did not alarm you too much. I must warn you that I will not allow myself to be parted from you even if it did."

Aemond felt his heart warm at her laugh, hoping she was beginning to feel more comfortable. They talked for a while before Y/N suddenly quietened, her expression sheepish. Aemond squeezed her hand gently, concerned that his wife might be afraid of him by the way she was looking at him. Her next words quickly dispelled that thought. But they instilled in him a different fear entirely, causing him to stiffen as she tentatively raised a hand to brush against his cheek, along the strap of his eyepatch.

"May I see you without your eyepatch, husband?"

Aemond caught her wrist, halting her movements, his voice laced with an admixture of shame and fear he had carried with him since he had lost his eye. He had gained a dragon, the largest and fiercest in the world, but he had been irreparably maimed for it. It was an act of violence that had changed the way people looked at him ever since and he could not bear it if Y/N should look at him with disgust or horror, or shame. "It is an ugly thing, my love. Not for the faint of heart."

"It is a part of you, Aemond. I will not judge you for it. I wish only to look upon the face of my husband, who I love dearly."

Aemond closed his eyes briefly, trying to control the erratic beating of his heart as he sought a way to distract his wife from her current train of thought, to disway her from her wish to see what lay beneath his eyepatch. He did not know if he could part with this layer of armour, the fear of rejection palpable in the air between them.

"I do not know..."

Y/N cut him off before he could give his excuses.

"If you will not show me, will you tell me how it happened? If it is not too painful. I know that it was your nephew Lucerys who was to blame." Aemond was surprised by the biting tone of his wife's voice as she spoke the name of his nephew. But he was grateful for the escape she had offered him and so he told her everything. Of how he had so oft been an outcast, jeered at by his brother and nephews when his dragon egg failed to hatch. He told her of how they'd mocked him with the promise of a dragon, only to present him with a pig. He told her of how he'd tried to offer his nephew Jacaerys comfort upon the death of Harwin Strong, of how he'd been rebuked and sought out Vhagar. How he'd claimed the largest dragon in the world, and how he'd lost an eye for it.

All the while Y/N stroked the side of his face, his hair, her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing at each painful memory Aemond recalled. When he'd finished, she pulled him to her, his head coming to rest in the crook of her neck. "I hate that you have suffered so much at the hands of those who should love you. I wish I had been there for you." Aemond felt his heart seize, unused to such care, such devotion to his well being. "I do not wish to distress you, my wife. I am perfectly content now."

Y/N huffed. "I always want you to feel comfortable telling me about these parts of yourself Aemond. I would like a word with your nephews though" she grumbled out under her breath. Aemond let out a hearty laugh at that, clutching his wife tighter to him "Perhaps it is not Vhagar my enemies should fear, but my fearsome, protective wife. I have long since forgiven Lucerys, it is his lack of punishment that has always pained me, rather than the act itself."

Y/N pulled away from him to look into his face, cupping his cheek where his eyepatch rested. "Then you are a better man than most."

As gratitude for his wife's care washed over him, Aemond felt that he did not need to hide from Y/N anymore, that it might be a relief for her to see him as he truly was without the fear of her reacting negatively. She had not judged him at any moment for his scar or as he told her of the misfortunes of his childhood. Had she not been the one to mend the very eyepatch he now wore upon his face the day they had met, knowing what it meant to him? He trusted her fully, and would show her as much.

"I do not mind if you wish to see it, my love." Taking strength from the warmth of his beloved's hand he placed both their hands atop the strap of his eyepatch and slowly removed it from his face, leaving only the sapphire where his eye should have been. He closed his good eye, not wishing to see his wife's initial reaction, aware the sight was ghastly and harrowing for most. The soft touch of her fingers down the line of his scar grounded him, reassuring him that she was not disgusted with him. She did not despise him.

"It is beautiful, Aemond."

Aemond snapped his eye open, looking at Y/N as if she'd lost her mind. "Beautiful? I expected you to shriek or faint at the sight of it. You are always surprising me Y/N."

"I think every part of you beautiful, the sapphire compliments you well. Why did you think I had a blue dress made? It is not the common colour for a wedding gown."

"You had your dress made to match me?"

Aemond spoke slowly, each word latent with barely repressed emotion.

Y/N nodded eagerly. "Yes, Helaena told me of your sapphire. I know it is not common knowledge but I thought it might please you."

Moved by his wife's sweet gesture, Aemond pulled her towards him so she was halfway in his lap, one hand holding her head to his chest.

"I worried you would hate me for it, that you would come to regret tying yourself to a man with such a deformity when you are perfection itself."

Y/N pulled back from him then, all seriousness as she considered how best to show Aemond that his scar did not make him any less in her eyes, that she love all of him.

"I could never hate you, and it does not frighten me. If anything I only love you all the more for allowing me to see you this way, for trusting me. And as to me being perfect, I assure you it is only you who thinks so and I most certainly am not."

Leaning over Aemond, Y/N placed a trail of kisses along the length of his scar, pulling away to rest her hand on his cheek. "You will always be the most handsome man to me. My brave husband."

Y/N lowered herself from her position leant over him until she was straddling Aemond, his hands moving to her waist to keep her secure as he gazed up at her in awe. Bringing her lips to his, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself as close as she could to him. In the comfort of his arms and with the feel of his lips on her, Y/N realised she had never felt so safe, so seen with anyone as with Aemond, and her previous worries dissipated. She parted her lips, allowing Aemond to deepen the kiss, before reaching one hand down to take hold of Aemond's.

He did not oppose her as she moved it from her waist to place it on her collarbone, slowly moving it down her chest until it rested over her breast. She heard Aemond's breath hitch but steeled her courage as she continued to move her lips against his, all the while trailing his hand down her torso, her hip and finally her thigh. Aemond pulled away from her then to look into her eyes, seemingly searching for any doubt. "Are you sure, my heart?"

Y/N had never been so sure of anything in that moment as she was of her love for Aemond and his love for her. Bringing her hands up to his shoulders she pressed her lips to his forehead. "Yes."

Aemond smiled tenderly at her, his voice soft as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Avy jorrāelan." He knew that she would understand what that meant from the tone of his voice. Pressing her closer to him still, if that were possible, the prince crashed his lips against hers.

Valyrian translations:

Avy jorrāelan~ I love you

Iksā gevie~ You are beautiful

Issa jorrāelagon ~My love

Nuha prumia~ My heart

This might be the prettiest a man has ever looked. I was in shock your honour.

Also. How the fuck did he do this????!!!!

@zoetje2004 @jjkysnk @ieieibhibu8 @skymoonandstardust @truly-abysmal @idonotknowenglish @leonesimp @hyacinthesiss @nanawaffles @callsigncrushx @bitchyfestivalbouquet @void21 @sapphiresandferrari @pinkykats-place

@lportes-22

@superintenseart @youknownothingjohnwatson

@misspinkonmars @ateliefloresdaprimavera

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen oneshot #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x reader #alicent hightower #hotd season 2 #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen

199 notes · View notes

aggieharkness · 5 months ago

Text

Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 5

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: working at the studio was a hard affair for you, but for Avis who had no idea how to run it it was even harder. Coming to find out she has been staying late almost every day you decide to whisk her away so she can take a break.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), slight praise kink, pet names, tit play, lingerie, outdoors sex.

Authors note: First of all, I'm very sorry about what's going on in Los Angeles right now. It's truly devastating to see so many families lost over the rubble of what used to be their lives; my heart goes out to all of them. This chapter is for them, so we will never forget its beauty even if the flames consume it all. Hope will sprout from in between the ashes. On another note, I'm sorry that this chapter has taken so long, but I've had to slow down a bit, I couldn't keep up with the way I've been dropping fanfics. I'm not sure if the last part is any good, it's like two o'clock in the morning and I need to sleep but I hope that you like it and as always, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. I also accept ideas that you might have or things that you might want to see Avis and reader do. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader for part of the story.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp.4 Chp.6 Chp.7

Word count: 20K (I have nothing to say. I have tried and failed.)

Kiss me in a field of lavender

The tension had been palpable in the air all day, people whispering and gossiping about the newest production that Avis had green-lighted, quiet conversations happening in the canteen away from Miss Kincaid’s or Mr Samuel’s ears. Meg was in everyone’s mouths, and by what they were saying it could be a total disaster for the studio if things carried on like this, but you knew that Avis would not have taken such a leap if she wasn’t perfectly sure, but you had not had the chance to talk about it with her yet. Since that night at the hotel, you two had decided to spend more time together, one way or another. She needed you, not only because you were a magician and always knew how to relax her and make her forget with your skilled fingers and mouth, but because you would sit with her and simply listen. She vented to you all her frustrations, from how she felt about Ace and their life together to how the studio was running her ragged, the productions that they were doing feeling like they were utter shit. They didn’t make her feel anything but disgust and boredom, like they were wastes of time and money, missing out on all those wonderful opportunities to make the people see how the world truly was, to give the spotlight to all those minorities that deserved to be heard. Meg was a breath of fresh air for everyone, you knew she knew, and she was willing to take this risk for the betterment of the country, if it helped somehow.

Sitting in your tiny little office, eyes reading some documents Miss Kincaid had handed you perhaps half an hour ago, you could feel the exhaustion of the day catching up. Your sight was becoming blurry, the words dancing on the paper as you tried to follow the paragraph, your shoulders tense and your back beginning to hurt, muscles stiff and throbbing under your skin. It was a rewarding job, most of the time, but the extra hours you put in almost every day weren’t really necessary, in your opinion, though the mountain of reports and files that never seemed to get any smaller begged to differ. The clock on the wall chimed eight, and after one more try you just couldn’t focus on the document anymore, so you decided to call it a day, putting the pages inside a brown folder and leaving it for tomorrow, on top of the rest of files, the chair scraping slightly over the tiles as you stood. You hadn’t realised just how dark it was getting until you walked past your window, the sky blending the last strokes of purples and pink into a deep navy blue sprinkled with millions of tiny bright specks that glinted high above your head. On one side light still lingered, bathing palm trees and houses with the last few yellowy beams of the day, on the other side a blanket of night enfolding the world.

In the few years you had lived here it still amazed you how different it all was and how it felt the same each time you looked up at the sky. In the distance the streetlamps were beginning to turn on, the stars above dulled by the world down on the ground. Hollywood at night was always so full of life but you had never been too interested in partaking, even if there were times when you did go out and simply had a drink or two enjoying the atmosphere. Tonight, though wasn’t one of those nights; there had been too many meetings, too many conversations and phone calls banging in your head loud as bombs. All you wanted was silence, even if it was for a moment, an instant maybe. Tearing your eyes from the window to grab your coat you stopped mid-step, turning your head to see that Avis’s car was still in the parking lot. Yesterday you had seen it still in its designated spot as you were leaving at seven, and the day before when you had left at half past eight, but you hadn’t been sure if she was staying late every day or if this was a Meg-related thing. Now you were sure it was a normal occurrence, wondering how late she stayed each day before going home; if she went home. It was quite obvious to you that she was giving this studio more than it deserved, in your most humble opinion, but you also knew just how rewarding all this must be for her. A woman who’s never had any power at all, who’s been a housewife for more than twenty years, though that didn’t mean she had to run herself ragged just to fulfil this dream. Once again you tore your eyes from the window, picked up your coat from its hanger, and walked out of your office, locking it once you had stepped into the corridor. You didn’t even notice as the wheels of your mind began to move, your feet carrying you down to the elevator as if you were on autopilot, used to doing this little trek every day several times, but instead of pushing the ground button, you found yourself pushing the one for the first floor.

It surprised you for an instant, but then you realised you had been picturing you and Avis laying over green grass with a few sandwiches and sweet treats along with a bottle of champagne or maybe wine. It was such a lovely idea, and you knew you could wait until the weekend to do it at her place, make it absolutely perfect down to the smallest detail, but something told you that it should not wait. The door chimed as they opened to reveal the floor where the canteen and bar were, hoping that Avis would just go with the flow and trust you as you stepped into the corridor and down to the still open doors. A few boys were having the first drinks of the evening, others a bit tipsy already in a corner discussing heatedly something about a trip to Colorado in what they thought were hushed tones, but you didn’t care much. Approaching the bar, you waited until the man in the white uniform was done drying and putting away a bunch of glasses, signalling with your head that you were ready to order.

-Hi, James. Busy day?

-Not more than usual. I gotta tell you though that if you want something warm better be quick, Nick’s about to turn off the stoves for the day.

-Oh, then could you maybe get me, like, a few chicken sandwiches with lettuce and mayo and two cut up steaks? I would appreciate it. Tell Nick that potatoes are not necessary if he doesn’t want to add them, a Caesar salad on the side would work just as well.

-All that for you?

-No. I’m planning something, but I’m not telling you about it.

-You can trust me not to say a word Y/N. Who’s the lucky guy?

-Sorry, but it’s top secret. Can you give me a bottle of red wine, and some cut up fruit as well?

-Sure, just let me tell Nicky here. It’ll be a little bit, so if you want a drink while you wait…?

-No, I need to do something first, I’ll just come down when I’m done and pick it all up. Watch him with the salt though, I’m not eating another sandwich dipped in the stuff.

-It was April Fool’s, that’s all I can say, hun.

-Still, keep an eye on him.

He was a good guy, you had known him since the first day you had started working here, absolutely terrified of everyone but needing the money. It seemed as if it had been only yesterday when you first set foot in Miss Kincaid’s office shaking like a leaf, a young little thing that only wanted to impress her boss and to not get fired within the week. When you had gone down to the canteen to get yourself lunch you had seen him serving Mr. Samuels and in shock you nearly spilled your glass of juice all over the bar, but James had grabbed it just as your elbow was hitting it, saving the day, and the man’s suit. After that he had been kind and had gently guided you all through the building and the main events in your schedule so you wouldn’t have so much trouble getting through the day. He told you that you shouldn’t be that nervous, that Miss Kincaid was a real nice lady and you wouldn’t have any issues with her, which had turned out to be more than true. You owed him for that, and maybe one day you would be able to return the favour but for the time being he was more than happy to simply be your friend and a server at the studio. It paid well he said. Tapping him on his upper arm you turned away and headed back to the corridor, hearing his loud voice telling Nick about a special order as if it were one of those fancy restaurants you had seen down Sunset Boulevard.

The building was quiet, not as much as it had been that night you had shared with Avis, but the ambiance was far more relaxed than it had been in the morning, hearing your footsteps as you entered the lift, hitting the button for the top floor. In the back of your mind there had been a headache brewing, but it seemed as if the silence was soothing it, slowly vanishing into a gentle ache that maybe would fade completely as the night went by. One could only hope, of course. The doors chimed, opening with a quiet scratching noise to reveal a completely empty floor; not even Miss Stinton was at her desk anymore, having probably left an hour or so ago. Walking over the carpet your shoes made no noise, muffled as you made your way to those big oak doors, noticing how they were slightly ajar, the gentle light from the chandelier escaping and bathing the corridor in warm orange hues. Peeking through the gap you could not help the smile that graced your lips, watching Avis as she rested against the back of her chair, a pair of glasses perched perfectly on her nose, eyes moving from left to right as she took in the words written on the pages, rolling them and huffing every few seconds as if what she had in her hands was utterly disappointing. Her slender fingers with perfect manicured red nails tapped over the wooden desk in a monotone rhythm, the sleeve of her asymmetrical pink and black blouse bunched around her elbow, the fabric clinging to her ample bosom, although in her current posture, you could not see the way they rose and fell under the gown.

It would be marvellous to slip into this room, close the door, and have your way with her, making her pant and moan as you dipped to your knees, spreading her beautifully while sitting in that exact same chair, ruining the leather with each orgasm you could pull from her depths. In your dreams her screams and sweet hushed whines and whimpers would make your body shiver and burn, almost as if you could still feel her tender kisses on your skin, lingering, tasting every inch of you, her fingertips ghosting over your hips, under your jaw, it did not matter. Her presence was ever-lasting, overwhelming when you would wake up in the dark of your room, sometimes alone, sometimes with her beside you, her expensive perfume mixing with her salty essence in a perfect mix that filled your lungs and warmed your chest. You knew that once her husband recovered, if he ever did, all those late-night conversations, all those times you had driven her to your place, undressed her and simply let her sleep in your arms, all of that would go back to the shadows, hidden in every corner only able to steal glances whenever she went to the studio, only sharing her time and bed whenever her husband went away, whenever he neglected her and drove her to tears and her broken down body showed up on your doorstep. It was all a matter of time, you knew, but until that moment arrived you would savour every second life would let you have with her.

Slipping quietly through the crack you tiptoed in her direction, your heels falling onto the carpet softly so as to not draw any attention, your eyes watching her body language that although tense was also calm, focused on whatever garbage she was reading. Her presence soothed the ache you had not realised had settled in your heart since parting with her a couple of days prior, the last kiss still lingering on your cherry lips. Coming to stand behind her chair your hands traced the outline on the top, feeling the stiches under your fingers as you gently moved them to the front, coming to rest on top of her dress. The fabric was soft, the heat of her body seeping through the pink material as you gently began to move them up and down her shoulders. Avis had been so lost in her own world, the words written on the page swimming before her eyes in boredom as she let her mind wander through senseless ideas and wonderful memories, that she had not noticed you coming in, the feeling of someone’s hands on her shoulders startling her in her chair, jumping slightly until she caught a whiff of a perfume well known to her, that sweet berry aroma enfolding her completely as the sudden fear and anger at the intrusion melted away in an instant, relaxing her body into your touch. Her hat laid over the desk next to her purse, forgotten there since this morning, allowing her gorgeous ginger curls to be free and on full display, neatly pinned on top of her head and perfectly placed and soft under your lips as you landed a kiss to the crown of it.

-Hello, darling.

-Hi. – it was melodious to hear her relaxed gentle tone, every muscle in your body reacting to her voice as if she was enchanting snakes, your head coming to rest over her right shoulder, lips pecking the soft skin of her neck as the hand that had been holding onto the script let it fall on her lap, nails scratching gently your scalp, the other one removing her glasses and letting the fall over the desk. She hummed at your tender ministrations.

-I thought you would have gone home already.

-I wish. – without noticing her head lulled to the side, granting you better access as your lips moved on to that sweet spot under her ear before tracing the shape of her jawline, your hands never ceasing their rubbing on her shoulders, the hard knots palpable through her dress. - Ellen gave me these scripts to read at lunch time and I was just trying to get through the second one before going home.

-Any good?

-No. They really are shit, Y/N. No feeling, no art, there’s nothing here. I’ve read instructions on how to build shelves that made me feel more than this!

-I know, I watched “All Hands on Deck”.

-I told Ace not to green-light it, but he was adamant. – she was beginning to heat up in frustration, but your skilled fingers rubbing those sore spots relaxed her almost instantly, her head falling back against the leather as you pecked her cheek, her eyes closing with a contented sigh. -He said it was good, that it would do well, and it’s one of the worst we’ve made. Where are the meaningful stories? – the way her hands moved of their own accord, emphasising her words even as her body melted against your lips, was a delightful sight. She felt everything so strongly. - Where are the tears, the suffering, the love, the betrayals, the passion… This doesn’t show life, it shows fairytales that are not even that. It’s just crap.

-They are not Meg.

-People are talking about it you know. A lot. Good things, bad things, in-betweens.

-I know it’s a risk but honestly Y/N, you should read it, you should see it. It’s a breath of fresh air and Camille is marvellous, probably one of the best we’ve ever had. – every fibre of her being was practically beaming with pride, her body turning the chair around so she could face you, forcing your hands to slip from her shoulders, but it didn’t matter if the prize was seeing those sparkles of pride in her eyes, the way they glowed as her smile grew bigger with each word. - If Ace saw it, he would be red with rage, but I stand by this.

-I know you do. People here think that you are a scary tyrant, they expect you to be like him, but you are nothing like that. You know this is the right thing, that this film will matter, that some little girl in a tiny village will see someone like her on screen and think “I can do that. I can be anything”. You are changing lives as we speak, darling.

-Many people don’t agree with you. More than a hundred theatres in the South have already written saying that they won’t show it and have pulled some of the other films as a boycott to try and get us to cancel Meg.

-But you won’t. – you knew that Helena Rubinstein made Avis’s skincare perfectly suited to her, but it still amazed you how soft her cheeks were whenever you placed your palms over them, your thumbs rubbing circles on her jaw before your fingers travelled to the nape of her neck feeling a few flyways that had escaped her perfectly coifed hair.

-Of course. I’ve put too much work and faith in this to pull it now. I might tank the studio but at least we’ll go with a film that will mean something.

-You won’t tank it; Ellen has already mentioned that you’ve sued Lawson, Daniels and McHadden for breach of contract and that there’s theatres in the North that have already assured they will have security so they can show it. People might hate it, but there will be millions who won’t. I have a feeling that this will only be the beginning of a promising string of movies made not by Ace Studios, but by you, Avis Amberg.

-You believe in me more than I do.

-It’s easy. – the red of her lips had faded somewhat since lunch time, her plump mouth calling your name, her eyes looking at you with such expectancy that it almost made you weak in the knees. You were tempted to bend over and claim them but for some reason you could not stray away your eyes from hers, so deep and wide, looking up at you without any barriers, no walls to keep herself hidden away from you. Your thumb traced her bottom lip softly not even smudging her carmine as you did so, but the action didn’t carry a sexual innuendo, as enticing and beautiful as Avis was, it was a simple caring gesture. - I know you and I know that everything you do, you do contemplating risks and prizes, rewards that will be at the end of the line. Meg is the start; it will be the hardest of them all just because of that, but once this one’s through, and I’m sure it will be, the rest will just fall perfectly into place.

-Assuming Ace lets me carry on with it all when he wakes up.

-If he didn’t, he would be a fool. There’s talent inside you Avis, there always has been but men are too blind to see it simply because one does not fall into their category of pretty or obedient. Ace will know just how good you are when Meg becomes the biggest hit this studio has ever produced. He won’t be able to deny that this success was all due to you.

Your words dug deep into Avis’s heart, burrowing and settling deep, almost feeling as if you were marking her very soul. She had been in the shadows her whole life; yes, everyone knew who she was and any time she set foot in a room she filled it up with her power and personality but whenever she returned home the halls were cold, silent, no comfort kisses, no sweet words murmured in her ear. She was a forgotten woman in her own marriage, and she hated it more than anything. She hated how insignificant Ace had made her feel all this time and how bitter it had turned her, self-conscious of her abilities as if she didn’t have the right to think she was made for something else than just staying at home. Every day of her life had been a miserable dance of biting words and fake smiles surrounded by an atmosphere of empty luxury until you waltzed in, and everything since that night had turned from a bleak void into something worth fighting for. She was unsure how you did it, but you did it anyway; you made her feel special, unique, as if she actually mattered, that she was worth a million dollars every day she woke up, every second.

Locking eyes with you she could see the truth that glazed them, the adoration and love seeping from every pore of your body and mingling with her skin, and like a teenager, she felt herself blush, a gentle smile painting her lips. You believed in her with every fibre of your being like no one had believed before and that meant more than all the jewellery and priceless pieces of art she had been gifted in more than twenty years of marriage. She would throw them all away if it meant simply hearing you say those words for the rest of her life. The script had fallen at her feet some time ago, but she hadn’t noticed, too lost in you to actually care. Her hands held onto your wrists, keeping them in place on her cheeks as she turned her head to place a kiss on your left palm, the red lipstick leaving an imprint that you didn’t want to ever part with. With the way you always responded to her every touch it didn’t surprise her with how much ease she could pull you to her, your body falling on her lap as each leg rested on her sides, coming to straddle her, your face barely a few inches from hers. Your brain barely registered the way your fingers were now playing with the hair on the back of her head, pulling pins here and there to let one single curl fall to her shoulder, twirling it gently, almost playfully.

-It’s not only me you know, there’s Camille, Ellen, Dick, Jack… There’s an entire studio behind this one.

-But you gave it the go-ahead. You trusted this story with the right cast, you took a risk that no one else would have done. This script is something, and you knew from the very beginning even if you didn’t think they would let Camille do it. This beautiful Jew I’m looking at will make history.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, her chest so full of love that she feared she might explode, her eyes blurry with tears for an instant, but she didn’t give you the chance to watch them fall. Her kiss was hard, borderline bruising even, and yet you could not pull away, her lips soft as her hands cradled your face. Your mouth opened of its own accord to grant her the access her tongue was begging you for, tracing the shape of your teeth and giving you the opportunity to scrape her lower lip, a rumbling moan sliding from Avis’s throat at the feeling. If magic truly existed you would have cast a spell so your body would be able to mingle with hers down to the last atom, feeling her completely under your skin, in your bones, in your blood, your minds dancing around in each other as a thin red thread built and wrapped around you both. To live as one even for an instant, not knowing where Avis ended and you began, so utterly connected that neither of you would ever feel alone, abandoned on the curb of some dark road without direction, would be as grand as letting yourself sink to the depths of the ocean with her hand holding yours, forever united. As your lungs began to scream for air she had to pull away, chests rising and falling fast, the sound of your breaths the only noise in that big office. Avis’s eyes were slightly dilated, and you would have loved to simply take her, she probably had the same idea, you thought, but she needed to get out of that studio, to smell fresh air and leave work behind, at least for one night.

-What would I do without you?

-Break records and that ceiling glass that keeps us from reaching the top. I’m not some miracle that has turned you into a new woman Avis; all that power and skill has always been inside you. The only thing I’m doing is loving you, showing you what I see so that you can realise it and see it for yourself.

-But you are a miracle, Y/N. Mine. – rubbing right under your lower lip she wiped your smudged lipstick with her thumb, her eyes moving from your mouth back to your eyes. There was a single streak on her right cheek where her tear had blurred her rouge slightly, but it didn’t seem to bother her, not with the way her eyes were glinting under the light of the chandelier as she looked at you.

-You are going to make me blush, Avis.

-Not a bad sight in my opinion. Your face all red and pink just for me. I wonder if I could make you red everywhere else. – her voice was all husky and quiet, whispered against your lips almost, sending a shiver down your spine as her hands settled on your hips to pull you closer. Perhaps getting out of this office was going to be harder than anticipated.

-None of that now, you and I have plans for tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I would love for you to leave all me red and bruised, but I think that what I have in mind in going to be a welcome change.

-Oh? Any hints?

-You are far too smart; you’d find out within a minute. Just trust me to take care of you and make this wonderful, okay?

-I would go anywhere with you, you know it, but right now, anything to get me away from these horrid scripts is more than welcome.

-And what are you going to do about them?

-Tell Harold and the other guy tomorrow to fix it or they’ll be out on the street by Monday next week. Ace might have liked these movies simply because they were money makers, which they are not now, but I’m running this studio, and I won’t accept this crap, not anymore. If they want to write shit like this, they can do it in the streets.

-Always so sure of your choices. They’ll learn soon enough that you have taste, but no more of that talk now. If we hurry, we might get to see the last few seconds of the sunset.

Removing yourself from her lap was a herculean task, her hands holding you in place with a harder grip than you had foreseen but of course, there was that lust in her eyes, that possessive tinge around her chocolate irises that was practically screaming at you to forget all plans and just ravish her right there. She would do anything to keep you close and yet your fingers let go of her hair, pinning that loose soft curl back before letting your hands slid over her shoulders. Her fingers wouldn’t let go as you stood, the tips still lingering over the fabric of your white flowy dress but as you took one step back, she was forced to let them slip slowly off your hips, though you didn’t leave her any chance of dropping her hand to her sides or over the armrests. Tenderly your fingers intertwined and with a surprisingly gentle strength, you pulled her to you, her heels landing quietly over the carpet. There was a childish curiosity in her eyes that thrilled you to no end; the fact that you had the ability to always keep her guessing without making her feel as if she was in the dark about what was going on in your relationship was a refreshing change from all those late minute invitations to parties or boring dinners that she had to attend with Ace without the chance of saying no. Rounding the corner of the desk Avis had to let go of one of your hands to grab her hat and purse, but she made no effort to place the first on her head, over her perfect curls. The people left in the building wouldn’t pay much attention to her and if they did take notice, they wouldn’t comment on of the fact that she wasn’t wearing it.

Grabbing your coat from the back of the couch you guided Avis towards the door, flicking the lights off and letting her push the heavy wooden doors close behind you. In the darkness of the office, next to the desk, the script remained forgotten over the carpet. Walking beside you, Avis chatted about how her day had been, the doors to the lift opened and you quickly pushed the button for the first floor once again. Avis raised an eyebrow at that, but you remained quiet, simply smiling politely at her, though a sneaky grin did make its way to your lips when you turned your face back to the doors just as the lift stopped. Stepping out Avis had to let go of your hand. She was getting better with the public displays of affection; a quick peck on your cheek, fingers touching but never holding, a hand on your lower back or yours resting on her upper arm, still she could not bring herself to hold your hand fully. She worried what people might say, how they might react, not towards her, they didn’t have the balls to even look at her when she walked past them let alone tell her off, but you were far more approachable and people could be cruel, not to mention that one slip up and your picture could end up on the front page of a magazine before she could stop it. There was an emptiness in your chest that you didn’t appreciate at all as her hand dropped to her side but there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Avis saw that sadness in your posture, a veil of disappointment shading your eyes, but it wasn’t directed at her. In an attempt to lift your spirits somewhat she looked at the door of the canteen and up and down the corridor to make sure that no one was looking or heading this way before she grabbed your face and kissed you gently.

Your entire frame relaxed into her lips, her palms warm against your cheeks and her fingers falling in between soft locks of hair that had escaped your braid and were now framing your face. When she broke the kiss, leaving you slightly dumbfounded, she was quick to wipe your once again smudged carmine, your neurons short-circuiting for a moment before you were able to function again. It was okay if the pecks were given while Ellen or Dick were in the room, or when Gertie and Mr. Breaton, the old man that worked at the gates of Avis’s house, could enter the room at any given moment, but a kiss so public was not a usual thing she engaged in. Thinking about it you realised that the only time you had kissed in a semi-public space had been on New Year’s Eve while you were still in the car in front of the restaurant, but back then many of the people in the streets were drunk, so they wouldn’t remember anyway. Kissing you at the studio in such a public area was a risk you had not expected her to take but the happiness it filled you with overshadowed the sadness of not holding her hand. With hushed words, you asked her to wait there as you turned and entered the canteen watching joyfully as James placed containers of food on top of the bar as Nicky handed them to him through the tiny window connecting the room to the kitchen.

-Just in time, Y/N!

-I couldn’t have done it better if I had timed it, eh? Did you leave Nick alone with the salt?

-Not for one second. – he had a bright smile, one of the things his wife loved the most he had told you one day when you first started having lunch there, apart from his plumbing skills, and he flashed you one full with teeth as he pulled out a mesh bag from under the bar and placed the bottle of red wine you had requested along with a bottle of champagne, winking at you. It was obvious you were going on a date but there really was no need for champagne, but you were not going to say no to the guilty pleasure you knew Avis had. From underneath the coffee machine, he pulled a wicker basket, placing it on top of the bar so he could start placing all the containers inside along with some cutlery and a couple of paper cups. – Nicky has added some roasted potatoes he had left from some dish or something, hope you don’t mind.

-No, not at all.

-Then that’s all, I think. The sandwiches, the steaks with some salad and potatoes, the drinks and the fruit.

-Yeah, that’s everything. Thanks a bunch, James. How much do I owe you? – you pulled your wallet from your coat pocket, but he shook his head and pushed your hand away from him.

-This one’s on us. We would have thrown the food away anyway. You and your secret love enjoy it; but don’t get too drunk.

-You know I never do. Are you sure you don’t even want a twenty?

-I’m sure. It was actually Nicky’s orders, and you know him, no taking back. Go and have fun.

-Thanks, James. See you tomorrow. Bye, Nick!

From the tiny window the face of a big man with beady blue eyes popped out, his deep rumbling voice wishing you a goodnight as you picked the basket and the drinks, waving back to them both. When you stepped into the hallway Avis wasn’t anywhere to be found, a sudden fear that she might have stood you up, leaving you looking like an idiot with all that food, or that someone could have come and given her some news that had required her to leave, assaulting your mind as you headed one way of the corridor looking for her, but when you reached the ending of the foyer she wasn’t there, so you turned the other way. The despair that had bloomed just a few seconds ago growing exponentially. Rounding the corner your eyes caught a glimpse of a pink dress, registering after half a second her frame leaning against the wall, next to a window smoking a cigarette. A relieved breath escaped you, drawing her attention. She wasn’t the sort of woman that would leave like that, you knew so, but you had had partners that had behaved like that or even worse, making you wait for hours in a restaurant until closing time, drink after drink filling the table as you had cried in silence, and maybe, you thought bitterly, some of those issues were still lingering inside you. It made you feel quite bad the way you had reacted, as if you didn’t trust her enough, as if you believed her capable of doing such a thing when you knew perfectly well that she would never hurt you like that. Releasing the smoke she had inhaled, Avis noticed the fear in your eyes, the way you clung to the basket and the mesh bag, her body suddenly completely alert and rushing to you.

-Hey, are you okay? Did something happen?

-It’s nothing. I’m fine now, let’s go.

-Y/N, talk to me. – she flipped the butt of the cigarette out the ajar window before placing both hands on your forearms, thumbs rubbing circles through the fabric of your coat and dress. - You know you can trust me.

-You are going to think it’s stupid, which you wouldn’t be wrong about, to be honest.

-I promise I won’t. Did someone say something? I will fire them immediately.

-No, no. I just didn’t see you when I came out of the canteen and… I thought you had left.

-Oh, doll, I wouldn’t leave you without telling you and if I had to, I would take you with me if I could.

-I know. It was just my mind playing tricks on me.

-It’s happened to you before, hasn’t it?

-A few times. I know that you would never do something like that but for some reason, I thought you had. Which makes me feel really bad now.

-Don’t feel like that. – the carpet all of a sudden seemed the most interesting part of this entire hallway, but Avis didn’t let you keep your glance downcast, she placed her fingers under your chin forcing you to look up at her. It struck her hard how vulnerable you looked, how much like a scared child you seemed to be with those sad eyes, and she internally cursed about how little she actually knew about you and your past, only a few snippets here and there. Your love life was not something you divulged or talked about while Avis’s conquests were well known to you, and she couldn’t help but feel as if there were pieces of you she still had to find. But she knew that the only thing she had to do was ask you for them and wait until you were ready to hand them out. - You are the best thing in my life, Y/N; I won’t ever leave you. I would never simply walk out on you when you go to such lengths to make me happy, going out of your way to grant me wishes I didn’t even know I had. Don’t ever doubt my love for you or how much you mean to me.

-I don’t, it was just a moment when my demons took the best of me. Relationships like this are still something relatively new to me, but we’ve been through too much for me to lose my trust in you. Still, I appreciate your words Avis, truly. I’m fine now, let’s not let this ruin our plans.

She needed to make sure you were a hundred percent okay, to know that this wasn’t deeper than you were letting on. With a gentle grip around your biceps she stopped you before you could turn away from her, bending to kiss you tenderly, pressing her forehead against yours for a few instants. Just as she didn’t know how you did it, how you made her feel this way, you weren’t sure how she managed to always make you feel safe, protected, and cared for, as if her hands could shield you from every single horrible thing in the world and keep you both inside a bubble where nothing bad could ever happen. Where she could love you forever and always. The heat her body expelled wrapped around you in the silent corridor, the sun casting waves of pink behind Avis in gentle halos that bathed her frame as you separated slightly, the pastel colour moving around her as if a painter was applying brushstrokes all around. Without a word she took the mesh bag from your right hand, intertwining her fingers with yours, and pulled you back down the corridor until you stood in front of the lift once again. No one was there to see you, no one would have cared if they had, and a little bubble of happiness enfolded your heart as she never let go of your hand, not even when you both stepped out onto the ground floor and headed for the front doors to set foot out into the world.

It was a small gesture to show you just how much she truly loved you, a promise that she wasn’t leaving you even if the universe fell apart. You couldn’t truly understand why she was so against holding your hand in public, after all she had been seen touching your back or your arm, even with her hand on your shoulder, your bodies never more than a foot apart from each other. You were even sure someone must have seen her kissing you on the cheek at this point, and yet she still drew the line at holding hands. But despite it all she was crossing the hall knowing that the few people left would see, her action a statement to you but mostly to herself that you were far more important than gossip or a few pictures. You were her friend, her partner, her therapist, her doctor, anything and everything, and if she could have had it her way you would have been her wife already. So, if people wanted to talk, let them talk, they were bound to find something to gossip about anyway, and she wasn’t going to push her happiness to the back of her mind and heart anymore, nor yours. Her grip was strong but never painful, the warm breeze that greeted you both as you stepped out of the building carrying a soft aroma of the first flowers that were beginning to bloom, perhaps a bit early, but nevertheless beautiful in between the deep green grass and moss. You walked to the parking lot and towards her car, but you quickly pulled her arm in the direction of yours, meeting a raised eyebrow.

-I know a place that you will love.

-You don’t want to have dinner at home, in the garden maybe?

-I would love to, but you need to see this spot, believe me. Come on, I won’t crash the car or anything.

There it was, that melodious loud laugh of hers that made your every limb tingle. It rang as clear as glass, echoing ever so slightly in the nearly empty parking lot, and you could not help but join her with quiet chuckles as you pulled her to your Packard. You met no resistance whatsoever and made quick work of the basket by placing it in the trunk along with the drinks that Avis kindly handed to you. Whatever you had planned was bound to be good taking in account the bottles she had taken notice of; an expensive bubbly that she adored with its fruity aftertaste and its smooth flavour, and a rich, slightly sweet red wine that she had every once in a while with her meals, never on its own, and that was a perfect companion for meats and desserts. Just before you closed the trunk Avis caught a whiff of the delicious aroma of roasted potatoes and gravy, her stomach rumbling quietly as she realised just how hungry she was, not having had a bite since lunch time, only coffee and a glass or two of whiskey to keep her running.

Being out of the office was already doing her some good, the tension in her shoulders slipping down her arms as she rounded the side of the car to get into the passenger’s seat but not before closing her eyes and simply taking in a deep breath of fresh air, the last few beams the sun cast down onto the ground warming her face. An instant later she was settled beside you. The car already smelled liked you, that precious berry perfume that you sprayed on each morning clinging to the leather in transparent rivulets that filled Avis’s lungs as you turned the engine on and began to back out of the spot before heading to the gates, the comfort of it making her relax in her seat, resting an arm on the back of it and using her hand as a perch for her head. With her cheek on her palm, she was able to take you in, never tiring of simply staring at you. It felt as if every time her eyes landed upon your perfect face, she found a new feature she hadn’t seen before, like tiny little freckles on your high cheekbones or a beauty mark on the tip of your nose that was almost invisible unless the person was extremely close to you.

But the ones she had engraved in her memory were the ones she loved to take in again and again. She adored the way your full lips curled inward just a bit when you smiled, the way your cheeks dimpled ever so slightly, or how you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating on something. Every little aspect of you was like a wave of mint in her veins, overwhelming and overpowering the rotten stench of her life before she met you. She knew that you were young, younger probably than most of the boys she had had at the gas station, but you were far more mature than any of them and there was something so utterly intricate and beautiful in the way you always seemed to find joy in everything and everyone. She had no desire to destroy all that wonderful happiness that you carried with you wherever you went. People like you are what was needed in this world, and she hoped you would never ever lose what made you so special, so unique and interesting to her. You weren’t some passing fancy though, no, she had had plenty of those in twenty years and it had always ended quickly and messy; with you, it was something true and real and she wished to never be parted from your side until her last day on this Earth.

The sun would set soon over the horizon; you had lost too much time at the studio you thought, but you weren’t about to be a driving hazard simply to get to that spot you knew, to risk both your lives for something that you could go up to the rooftop of the building and watch while holding each other close. If you got there in time, it would be wonderful but if you didn’t it was perfectly alright as well, as long as Avis was happy with what you had arranged in the five minutes it had taken you to leave your office and to go down to the canteen, you would be content. Swerving the car onto the freeway you rested comfortably against the back of your seat, watching from the corner of your eye as Avis turned the dials of the radio until she found a song she liked, returning her head to its previous position over her hand, her feet tapping to the rhythm while humming. There was a gentle tug on your coat, and you looked down for a moment to see her free hand playing with the hem of it absentmindedly, moving her eyes between you and the road ahead every couple of minutes. Those deep chocolate irises observing you, drinking your every movement, made you blush like a schoolgirl, cheeks and neck turning a pale pink even though her touches were nothing but harmless twirlings of the fabric in between her fingers, her skin never brushing yours as to not make you lose concentration on the road.

The spot you were driving to wasn’t really that far away, but the secondary roads were a nightmare to get through and Avis was about to find out as you took the exit that pointed out Runyon Canon. She sat a bit straighter when she saw the sign, dropping her hand to her side, and turned her head to look at you with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t personally been there but the boys at the studio had mentioned that there were a few nice picnic spots with tables and everything, and as much as she liked the idea of having one with you she was also slightly disappointed that you had decided on some place where there would no privacy whatsoever. She liked being alone with you, no families with screaming children or passersby that would go climbing early next morning, she wanted it to be just the two of you, but she wasn’t going to voice her opinion. You had done things for her that no one else had, she could go through this for you. The first pothole got you both off guard as the light began to dim, your foot slipping from the brakes a little as Avis fell slightly on her side, having to use her hands to stabilise herself on your arm and shoulder. A curse echoed in the cabin of the car as she tried to sit back on her side, but the bumps were making her slide off the leather due to the fabric of her dress and without a second thought she pulled the black skirt from under her thighs hoping that her bare flesh against the seat would help her stay in place. Of course, you had not been expecting that and when you turned your head to see what on earth she was doing you were hit with the sight of the fabric bunched up around her hips, those shapely and delightful legs displayed in nude stockings before you, and oh God, those voluptuous breasts of hers were practically spilling out of her skewed blouse. Without thinking twice, you braked in the middle of nowhere, a cloud of dust enfolding the car, Avis’s body jerking forward before falling back against the seat.

-Y/N! A little warning next time. Is this where you wanted to take me? I’m not saying that it’s not pretty honey, but…

The words were drowned by your mouth on hers, the hand brake nearly forgotten in your hurry to get your hands on her body. You had been fighting hard against your better judgment, but it seemed that you had lost, though you could not say you were saddened by it, not when your hands were holding onto her hips under all that bunched up fabric, digging your fingers hard on her hot flesh, lips on lips pushing her back against the seat without realising it. Avis had not even thought of the fact that she would be half undressed in your presence and your reaction was perhaps a bit too forward for her at first, mainly shocked by it, but she wasn’t about to complain when she had been craving you all day and hadn’t had the chance to have a quicky in her office. When she parted her lips to grant you access, she was pleasantly surprised by the force with which you sucked on her tongue and bit down on her lower lip. The moan that resonated from her making her entire body vibrate, her hands digging hard into the leather to keep herself upright. Just as suddenly as you had assaulted her mouth you separated, eyes filled with such lust Avis thought she might drown in such passion, your body hovering over hers.

-If you want to actually get to the spot and have a nice date with me, I suggest you cover those legs or I’m going to bury myself between them and not let you out of this car until tomorrow morning.

-That’s not a bad prospect darling. That mouth of yours is quite talented.

-God Avis, I’m really trying here to not fuck your brains out, help me out, will you?

-Why would I? – her body pressed against yours, that delicious heat seeping though your thin dress as one of her hands lifted from the seat to rest over the one that was on her right hip, making it travel in between her legs until your fingers were barely an inch away from her centre. She was always warm, hot against your skin, but God, she was burning in between her legs, and your fingers could not help moving closer until they brushed the soaking lace. Avis’s head fell back at the contact, a groan filling up the cabin as you moved slowly up and down. She was absolutely drenched; this couldn’t have been just from now.

-You’ve been fantasizing about me have you not?

-Hmmm, yes. – a gasp escaped her when you pressed your thumb to her clit through her underwear, eyes rolling briefly to the back of her head. - Reversing roles, are we?

-You seemed to enjoy it the other day. – scrapping your teeth on her neck, Avis felt as if she might combust right there and then, your tongue licking the soft skin before your lips made their way to her ear. - How about we make a deal? You let me take you to that spot and we have a nice date, and I might be tempted to ravish you later. But only if those legs remain covered.

-Where are you taking me? – your hand stopped its motions over her centre, a quiet whine parting from Avis’s lips as she locked eyes with you, but your hand didn’t move from its spot on her inner thigh, ghosting over the flesh and drawing goosebumps and shivers that made her ache even more for you.

-I ask the questions today darling. Deal or not?

-Deal.

She could not lie, the prospect of you fucking her out in the wild with people barely a few feet away, hidden by trees or one of those big picnic tables, set her on fire and this whole act of her belonging to you, that possessiveness was just fucking amazing. Like the well-behaved lady she was she pushed as much of her dress as she could over her thighs, pressing them together without thinking to gain a bit of friction. Your body didn’t move away from her quiet yet though; the hand that had just been in between her legs when up to her collar, feather-like touches making the air in her lungs hitch, feeling how it moved down her sternum and over her breasts, bending your head until you could lick the swell of her left tit before you pushed yourself back into your seat leaving her absolutely flustered. She had taught you a trick or two on how to toy with people, and you weren’t about to waste this opportunity. Pushing the hand brake down and shifting into first gear the car began to move again, the potholes and bumps not helping Avis’s situation in the slightest, but you weren’t much better either, with the way her bosom jiggled and bounced you were actually finding it extremely hard to keep your end of the deal.

Finally, and you did send a prayer to the heavens for it, you saw the entrance to Runon Park and the designated area for picnics, but just before reaching it you swerved the car to the left and followed a slightly covered path for a mile or so, the trees tall and dense around you but allowing for the very last beams of light to still come through them, illuminating the way. Avis’s breath caught in her throat at the sight when you drove past the last tree, coming into a secluded clearing. All the lust and fire moved temporarily to the back of her mind as she took it all in from the way the canyon dropped into a deep abyss barely six feet from where you were parking to the vast green that seemed to go on into the horizon, endless and absolutely breathtaking. This… this was better than what she could have ever imagined. Without thinking, without command, her body stepped out of the car almost as if she was suddenly living in slow motion, the skirt falling around her legs properly, but she barely registered it with her hand on the warm steel of the hood, each step she took crunching twigs under her heels. How had she lived in Hollywood for over twenty years, and had never been here? The warm breeze caressed her face, its waves carrying the fresh aromas of pines and wood that melted against her skin as the floral accents from the very first violets and snowdrops danced around her in a harmony of fragrances that filled every cell in her body.

Under her feet deep emerald green grass grew up until the very edge of the cliff and in a need to see she stepped forward until she was barely a foot from it, the abyss deep and terrifying but so stunning that she could not feel fear. Looking to the West a waterfall burst from the rocks, its waters strong and transparent as they poured and fell down to the valley more than two hundred feet beneath her, where a river of powerful currents and acute meanders adorned the scenery, the sounds the wind carried kissing Avis’s ears in sweet gurgles and murmurs of water that filled her heart with such emotion that she could not even comprehend what she was seeing. Every tree, every rock and bush were placed almost strategically as if God had taken his time with this spot only for you both to see. She could not understand how the plateaus where she stood along with the one across the valley were so full of green, trees as tall as buildings gracing the world with a rainbow of greens and browns as they grew, while beneath them rocks as red as fire stood, the careful lines and topography of curves, columns and arches contrasting with the weeping willows and fragile riverbend plants that grew in between the rivulets of bluish crystal waters at the bottom of the valley. Looking down to the East the world was a song of fire, the canyon going on for miles with both gentle curves and acute angles that would have been hidden under seas of green had the river not carved its path deep within them.

Avis couldn’t steer her eyes from it all, observing the way the leaves swayed in the breeze, white butterflies dancing tenderly between the petals of white daffodils and red poppies, the splatters of colour spread throughout the grass in mosaics. There was a ruffle coming from some bushes across the valley, and Avis watched intently as a deer walked out into the evening sun, standing tall and proud with its growing antlers close to the edge as it almost held her gaze, its magnificence making her wonder if she had ever seen one in the flesh. Crossing the streaks of blue that still remained in the skies above, eagles cut through the winds, wings spread wide as their loud calls accompanied the flow of the waterfall. Her eyes had never seen such beauty; the world had always seemed like such a fast paced universe to live in that she had never taken the time to simply stop and step aside from the current of people, but standing here, where nature seemed to carry on without noticing humans even existed, was as if she was seeing her home for the first time, and she could only think about how beautiful it all was. There were eagles nowhere else but on this planet, bees and dragonflies could only buzz and sway over rivers and fields of daisies in this planet the same way that roses and pine trees could only grow and thrive here and she had never realised it until now, when the world was quiet and society laid miles away.

A pair of hands came to lay on her waist, startling her ever so slightly before they wrapped themselves around her as your head rested over her shoulder, and in murmured words you told her to look over to the waterfall. Her head returned to the West slowly, unsure of where her eyes should be, but upon landing them on the spot, both of you watched enthralled as the sun began its last descent. The sky was dressed in thin veils of pink and purple silk before the last golden glow of the day bathed the earth, it’s warmth melting against Avis’s face, only disturbed by the elusive touch of green beams that only a few handful of people had ever managed to catch, its perfect light turning the red sandstones and crystal waters into a world of molten gold and emeralds before it all turned dark and the sky above began to blend its indigo blue into a deep navy one. High up in the sky was now a full moon, lighting the world with white rays as to not leave it in a deep terrifying darkness, all the animals vanishing from the land to return home while others woke up to start their day. The world had turned silver.

-Was it worth the wait? – your voice whispered in her ear as your hot breath sent a shiver down her spine in a reflex response to your touch.

-Words cannot describe it Y/N. This place… how did you find it?

-When you are lonely and homesick you try to find places that bring you comfort, that make you feel as if you’ve never left. I found this one in one of those moments. I had been driving my old car around, getting familiar with the roads, and I took a wrong turn that turned out to be a right one.

-It’s beautiful.

-It was beautiful, now that you are here, it’s perfect.

Romance had seemed such a soppy affair, with all the compliments and shows of affection and love, but by George, was Avis absolutely adoring it all, red as a beet at your words and so very thankful that it was night, and you could not fully see it. Her hands were resting over yours, rubbing and gently moving her fingers over your soft skin as you both remained standing there observing it all, taking in the scenery for a moment or two. The waterfall seemed to have slowed down its incessant pour, the water falling gently from rock to rock, the once bright green moss now reflecting the moonlight as if they were diamonds framing the silvery currents, the grass vast seas of white as the breeze moved them from side to side. She could stay here forever, build a small wooden cottage and live with you, hidden from the world, not having to worry about whether people would approve of you, the doctors unable to call her and remind her that she had a husband in a comatose state, no Meg to think about, no studio to run, just you, her and nature. A most wonderful dream indeed. With a deep breath, the pine fragrance filling her lungs, she felt you turn her around, an astonished gasp escaping her parted lips when she saw a checkered blanket over the ground along with the basket and the mesh bag, a turned-off lantern resting on the side. You were quick, she thought, or maybe she had been truly lost in her surroundings, either way, she was pleasantly surprised by it all and let you guide her to the makeshift dinning room.

Your heels came off, resting on the side, away from the blanket, and in a similar manner Avis removed hers, letting her body fall as gently as she could onto the ground, tucking her legs under her while your flowy dress covered your crossed ones. It wasn’t supper by candlelight, but at least the lantern gave enough illumination when you turned it on, with the lighter that you had picked up from Avis’s purse, that you wouldn’t have to bring the fork an inch from your face to see what on earth you were biting on, the mesh bag falling onto the grass as Avis pulled the bottles and left the champagne over the blanket to work on opening the wine. You both worked in silence, containers resting in between you before you began to remove the lids, the wonderful smell of roasted potatoes covered in gravy and steak surrounding you both while the coolness of the sandwiches remained on the side, a big bowl of Caesar salad in the middle so you could share. Putting the fruit back in the basket so they wouldn’t be in the way. The cork of the wine came out with a pop, Avis pouring the deep cherry liquid into one of the paper cups and passing it to you before serving herself, raising it in the air.

-Cheers.

-Cheers. – it was utterly delicious. You were not much of a wine person if you were being honest, you were perhaps more modern or glamorous, always ordering cocktails, but the fruity aftertaste it left on your tongue was magnificent, simply delicious and lifting your eyes from the cup you could see Avis was enjoying it just as much.

-So, what’s on the menu for dinner tonight?

-We have Nick’s special, of course, steak with potatoes and salad, and on the side some chicken sandwiches because I was not very sure what you fancied. Maybe I went a little bit overboard, but my grandma used to say that it was best to have leftovers than to leave hungry.

-Your grandma was a very wise lady. Should I go first and try the salad?

-Whatever you desire, etiquette is not compulsory here, darling. – picking up her fork she stabbed a piece of chicken practically drenched in the dressing along with some lettuce and using her left hand as a barrier so the food wouldn’t satin her dress should it fall, she popped it all in her mouth. God, it was delicious, the lettuce crunchy and fresh, a crouton she hadn’t seen shattering in her mouth in a perfect balance of salty as the parmesan melted on her tongue along with the juicy chicken, her starving stomach taking it all as if it was a heavenly meal. She probably hadn’t noticed but she had moaned loud and clear, eyes briefly closing as she let the simple flavours assault her, but you had, and you could not say whether you were happy she liked so much or far too bewitched by her that even the slightest noise was music to your ears, as if you were listening to the London Philharmonic, a chuckle escaping your lips as you took some of the salad yourself.

-God, I can’t remember the last time I had something like this.

-If you are reacting like that to just the salad, I’m worried the potatoes and gravy will kill you.

-I’m not. You know how to resuscitate me with that tongue of yours. – she had said it with such a nonchalant tone before bringing another bite of the salad to her mouth that you chocked on your wine, a splatter or two landing on your cheeks. One point to Avis she thought, watching your flushed face as you wiped the specks of deep red liquid from your skin, a naughty smirk painting her lips that’s she hid quite well behind her own cup of wine. – Are you alright? Did something go down the wrong pipe?

-Don’t act as if you didn’t just almost kill me, but yes, I’m fine.

-Me? I haven’t touched you, honey. I think you know very well when and how I could send you to the heavens… or hell, whatever you prefer.

-Are trying to seduce me?

-Is it working?

That raised eyebrow was such a turn on for some reason, but Avis didn’t move from her spot, simply bent over to stick her fork on some of the steak, doing the same motion with her left hand as before but your eyes were clearly staring at another part of her body that wasn’t her face. You would have to get professional help to understand why you were so goddamn in love with her breasts; what sort of magic did they possess to make you shiver and burn at just the simple sight of them? It was playful banter, a game of cat and mouse that you knew she loved, but this time you didn’t answer, simply sat back and watched her chew on the meat, the sound of her humming in approval at the flavour reaching your ears. You could have prepared a better picnic, you could have brought candles and dried rose petals and made it all far more romantic but there was that spark in Avis’s eyes that told you it was perfect. With her hand left hand now resting over the grass she let her fingers rub and gently move in between the twigs and tiny little flowers, the moonlight reflecting on top of your head as the orange light from the lantern cast shadows over your face. She wondered for a moment who did you look like most; was it that grandmother you had mentioned or perhaps your father? Who did you inherit that nose of yours from or those blond locks that swayed in the warm breeze around the nape of your neck? A question assaulted her suddenly, out of curiosity more than anything else.

-When was the last time you talked with your mother?

-Oh. – it caught you off guard the drastic change of topic, but you couldn’t say that you were mad. It was natural for her to want to know more about you, after all, you had kept most of your private life secured away, afraid that she might find you too much of a foreigner or maybe simply lose interest since you were nothing like her acquaintances. But you wouldn’t have brought her here if you were not ready to share, you thought, knowing how much this whole place meant. – Well, I wrote to her last week, so I think that the response should arrive in maybe a couple of weeks.

-You don’t phone her?

-I can’t afford international calls. I do try though, on Christmas or birthdays, but sometimes I can’t. So, letters are the best method.

-Where are you from? You’ve talked about your home, but you’ve never told me. – grabbing a handkerchief Avis picked half of a chicken sandwich, eyes never leaving your face as your eyes glazed with memories untold, deep secrets you cherished in your heart, a tender smile growing on your lips.

-P/B. We are from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, a couple of hours from the capital actually. I can’t say that we live on a farm but some of my neighbours do. It’s not as exciting as coming from New York, I’m afraid.

-No, but I’m sure is more beautiful. This place reminds you of home you said, and I can’t help but wonder just how much.

-Well, vast fields surround the village, and they seem endless as they go on and on into the horizon. – with your fork you stabbed one of the potatoes, biting down on it as steam curled in front of you, the thin layer of gravy mixing beautifully with the rosemary and the fat that coated the vegetable, swallowing before continuing. - In winter they are all brown and yellow as the farmers prepare the soil for the next sowing, although in some of the areas there are already tiny little sprouts growing before December is over. They might not look pretty at first, but if you go out early in the morning, when the sun is dawning, the olive trees rest among a thin fog that leaves very fragile layers of ice over the branches, and morning dew drops form over the grass that’s beginning to break from the ground. It usually doesn’t snow, but the very few times it has it’s a perfect scenery. White just never ceases to appear in front of your eyes and the air is so cold and crisp but so fresh and the smell of the chimneys just make it all so wholesome, so like home. - You were lost in a world of your own, the memories forming before your eyes as if you were standing right there, on the edge of the village seeing it all, hearing the loud voices of your neighbours and waving to the older married couples that were working on their lands, the cold almost numbing your fingertips. Avis had forgotten about the food and was simply resting her hands on the ground with her head lulled to one side observing the way your eyes were zoned out, your fingers moving gently as if you could show her where you were pointing at.

-In springtime though everything is gorgeous. There’s green everywhere, the trees that had laid naked amongst all that cold now blooming under the warm sun, flowers overtaking the grass as the cereals that had been planted grow tall, sometimes taller than me. There are red and white poppies, and so many four-o’clocks simply sprouting from the sandy grounds. My mother loves them and grows them in the garden in a variety of colours. Then of course there are the pines and olive trees that no matter where you look there’s mosaics of, and we use them for shade when we’ve been working out on the fields or in the garden, to cool down and have a bite. There are so many colours and so many insects. Our house gets filled with butterflies and bees that settle on my mother’s roses to rest and that drink from the tiny little yellow blossoms that will later become tomatoes. And the air… it’s so rich with fruits and vegetables and those wonderful floral fragrances that one could stay out all day and never get tired of it.

-It’s sounds like paradise.

-It’s far from it, but its home. We don’t have waterfalls or big deep valleys carved into the stone, but we have fields of lavender and hawks that fly high above, and slow-moving rivers where ducks and swans sometimes bathe. We can see roe deer jumping from between the trees and rabbits that rush around without a care in the word, building their burrows in those areas where the ground has not been planted so it can rest. Coming here makes me realise that there’s always a piece of home if you look for it, no matter how many miles separate you. It’s in your blood, in everything that you are and that you do. One might not realise it but it’s always there and it’s up to us to reject it and hide it or to embrace it and adapt it as we grow older, to never forget what makes us who we are. I did not grow up in big cities or high up on mountains, but I have lived surrounded by nature and dipping my feet into the warm sea, listening to the waves crashing against the rocks, filling my lungs with the salty breeze. I have walked among orange blossoms and lemon trees; I have been in nameless places in the middle of nowhere, but it was in those moments that I felt at peace.

-So why did you come here?

-Because one can’t stay stuck in the same place forever. I had a chance to make something for myself, to build a life that wasn’t the one my mother or my grandmother lived and as painful as it was, I took it. You left Northport to come here.

-True, but what I built was ruins. Nothing ever lasted before it was knocked down.

-I wouldn’t say that. People know you for you, not for Ace or Ellen or Dick. You have made a name for yourself even if the circumstances were not ideal or pleasant, but when they hear your name, they see you, not you with your husband or with a friend, just you. You might be standing over rubble, but you are not letting it keep you on the ground, you are picking up the pieces and making yourself a staircase to the top. You are running a studio and are going to release the best film in history, I think you have done pretty fantastic from that girl that you were back in Northport.

-How do you always see all the good, positive side of things?

-I usually don’t, but I have seen what sadness and hurt have done to you and I want to make it right. You deserve joy and love, not harsh words or bitter situations. You are doing what no one else has had the balls to do and I know that that girl who moved here years ago would be beaming with pride. – that girl that had been lost and miserable, Avis thought, would she truly be proud? She had had dreams that were shattered, a whole future shaped out before her that vanished into nothing when the talkies came, and then Ace and Claire happened and life just turned into a sea of habits and nasty looks, and that innocent girl became a not so innocent woman, but still filled with sadness and disappointment. And yet she felt as if you were right. That young thing from Northport would have never dreamt of running a studio or making a controversial film but foremost she would have never imagined she would find someone like you, the right person at the right time, just a bit later in life than what she had expected.

-I wish I could see the world though your eyes, I bet they are the most magnificent lenses anyone could wish for. Nothing is ever truly bad or horrid to you, there’s always hope and light at the end of the tunnel. With all those compliments you are giving me you are going to end up spoiling me if you are not careful. I might get used to this treatment. But how about you tell me what is it you want to build? What do you expect from life?

-I don’t know and that’s the beauty of it. My future is a blank canvas. I can be anything I desire, at least that’s what my mother says, from a secretary, as I am right now, to a nurse or a painter. I chose the paths I tread and admit my errors when I take wrong turns because that’s how one builds something worth fighting for. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you are the only person that I have painted on that canvas, the only thing that I’m sure I want as a constant for the rest of my existence. I don’t know where I might be in five or ten years, hell, I don’t even know If I will still be in contract at the studio in six months, but I do know that wherever I am, I will be beside you. – Had your eyes ever been this deep? Had they ever shone with such beauty and determination? Avis wasn’t sure, but under the warm light of the lantern they were open doors to your heart, to every feeling and desire that grew and wrapped around your chest, and she was suddenly pulled into them, falling and drowning in their abyss. Her hands moved the food gently to the side, the containers covered halfway to avoid spills, allowing her body to crawl on all four in your direction, knees digging hard onto the ground underneath the blanket leaving the imprint of tiny pebbles over the skin until she stopped right in front of you, the soft skin of her palms coming to rest on your cheeks as she drew your body to hers.

-And I want you with me. Forever.

There was no room for words anymore, your heart skipping a beat before it began to race as the feather light touches of her lips on yours, hovering but never actually pressing them, drove your hands to hold onto her hips, digging hard over the fabric of her dress as your bodyweight fell over hers. Gravity granted you a helping hand this time and as she pulled you even closer her mouth landed over yours in a tender kiss. Somewhere in the distance a loud coo was heard, echoing in the air around you both but Avis never parted herself from you, absolutely addicted to the way your carmine mixed with the rich tones of the wine and the saltiness of the gravy, leaving an aftertaste on the tip of her tongue that was simply you, your sweet essence. Breaking the profound navy blanket that covered the skies, a magnificent horned owl flew over the crystal waters at the edge of the cliff, flapping its enormous wings hundreds of feet above the ground, casting deep black shadows over the grass before perching itself high on a tree, observing in the night, protecting. Neither of you was bothered by its presence, you were all animals at the end of the day, creatures that had evolved up to this point in the history of the Earth forgetting that before cities and societies existed love was shown among the trees, on the edge of riverbends under the scorching sun or the coolness of the night. One of your hands moved to Avis’s back, the other one resting on the grass as your bodyweight pushed her gently on top of the blanket, the top of her head pocking from the corner of it and in contact with the now deep green that surrounded her.

The new position forced your lips to part, Avis’s chest raising and falling in hurried breaths, and as you moved your legs to straddle her, your foot accidentally kicked the lantern. The flame dying as your hands travelled to her sweet face, left you both bathed in only moonlight, the warm breeze caressing your bodies along with the sound of the flowing waters, crickets playing their quiet songs in the distance. Inching your fingers closer to the nape of her neck, feeling her soft ginger curls, they moved nearly of their own accord to massage her scalp, touching the cold metal pins she was wearing as you scratched your nails over her sensitive skin. It was delicious the way she hummed under you, her hands running up your back to your shoulders to keep you as close as possible to her, shivering as the heat of your body seeped through her stifling outfit. Your lips were torture on her neck, kissing the shape of it from her jawline to the hollow between her collarbones, licking and tasting her sweet skin as your fingers worked tenderly on removing as many hairpins as they could find, nibbling and scraping with your teeth. She needed you to mark her, to take her and make her yours. The way your light touches lingered on her flesh, delightful and thrilling as they drew goosebumps and gentle tingles on her limbs, made her brain slowly lose its train of thought and simply give into every sensation. Releasing the last pin, your fingers threaded deliciously in between her locks, pulling on her hair slightly harder than you had planned though she didn’t seem to mind. The motion had forced her head to lull back, a gasp escaping Avis’s ajar lips as the grip on your shoulder became stronger, her nails threatening to rip your dress.

You had never desired anything more in your life than to keep her in your arms for all eternity. That sweet spot under her ear was assaulted by your lips, the tip of your tongue tracing the outline of her earlobe, your hot breath tickling her skin and causing a mix between a giggle and a groan to slide from her mouth. Painstakingly slowly you moved along her jaw, lips delivering feather-like touches before you moved down to her neck again, sucking hard on her pulse point, delighted in the rumbling moan that she made as her throat vibrated beneath your lips. It was utterly gratifying to see how responsive she was to your touch, to the way your hands moved from her hair to her shoulders, fingering the neckline of her blouse, your fingertips barely brushing her skin and yet her pupils were so dilated that it was a miracle if you could actually get a glimpse of that gorgeous brown of hers. Dropping her hands to your hips her gaze was intense, watching your every move as you sat back over her thighs and began to trace the outline of her breasts and stomach through the fabric until they reached the hem, an obstacle that you had to remove, you thought. Avis felt you pushing the item gently off her abdomen, agreeing silently with you that it needed to come off. She desired to feel your skin on her skin, to have you as close as it was humanly possible, and so she pushed her upper body off the ground, resting its weight on her elbows as she guided your hands to push the garment off her midriff and arms until the blouse simply flew over the grass a foot or so away.

God, she was wearing a nearly see-through corselette. There was a deep groan vibrating in your throat at the sight, the translucent satin cupping her breasts so beautifully, so enticingly that the heat that was coursing through your veins nearly turned into fire, Avis’s rosy nipples stiff and fighting against the material. The boning of the garment hugged the curve of her waist as if it was made perfectly suited to her body shape, and perhaps it was, the olive kissed skin coming through the material that built the bodice, flowers and fallen petals embroidered in deep blues and greens, encasing her form. It was beautiful, you could not help but stare at it for a moment wondering how one came across such things, but your attention returned quickly to Avis, the heat of her body seeping to the palms of your hands from where they rested under her bust. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, bosom rising and falling in rapid breaths in anticipation, unknowing of your next move as your eyes bore into her skin, hot and cold shivers running down her arms and back. Your thumbs rubbed the underside of each breast causing Avis’s breaths to mix with her loud pants as your hands journeyed higher, cupping her tits graciously, the plump flesh overflowing from your palms as you began to knead them, dropping your lips to her now exposed collarbone, teeth scraping the flesh and leaving angry red marks that your tongue quickly soothed.

How could you drive her to such insanity every single time? It made no sense how well you already knew what made her mind go blank, mad with desire and lust, every spot in her body that could draw out moans and gasps, how much pressure to use, how much strength and roughness she required or wanted. Bruises on her body were a marvellous sight for her to wake up to, your lips sucking on the skin of her chest and the top of her ample bosom until the purple began to form, your tongue running over them to calm her flesh, but she would never ask you to stop, finding that gentle pain simply delicious, addicting as your head moved to the valley between her breasts, letting your tongue run over the translucent fabric until it reached her left nipple. The feeling of it rolling in your mouth alongside the friction the material provided was making Avis’s core burn hotter and higher, her left hand holding onto your hair while the other grabbed onto the blanket, her knuckles almost white. The stiff peak twirled around your tongue with ease, your lips sucking hard as your teeth scrapped the sensitive bud, a quiet scream making its way out of her mouth before she could stop it. She was always so vocal, so needy and ready for you. As your head was busy with her left breast your hand had been kneading her right one, but its mission had changed after noticing the way Avis moved under your weight, travelling down her side to the waistband of her skirt in search for the zipper, that was quite conveniently resting on her right hip.

Much to your dismay, and hers, you had to let go of Avis’s nipple, a gentle pop resonating from your mouth as you pushed your body onto the blanket to get rid of the black pencil skirt that prevented her from properly spreading her legs. The garment’s zip slid like butter, both of your hands pulling it down her legs as she lifted her hips off the ground to help you, leaving her matching knickers on display for your eyes to feast on. You were sure you had just had a mini heart attack at the sight of the translucent fabric, her folds practically exposed before you. There was a hunger inside you, a monstrous appetite simply for her, for every single inch of her that you could not satiate, both your hands crawling upwards on each side of her body, over the blanket, your legs moving in between hers to spread her open. Part of Avis was resting over the grass while the other was on top of the checkered fabric, but if the feeling of the cool plants on her skin bothered her she did not mention it, perhaps too lost in what you were doing to her as you hovered over her, lips so close to hers that she could taste the wine on your breath. Her eyes locked with yours, feeling the way her chest pressed against yours with each hurried breath she took, the moonlight reflecting and making her deep brown orbs glow even if deep inside them there was a light of their own, a veil of love and faith that made your heart swell with pride. You and only you had managed to do what no one else had; earn her trust.

Your lips landed softly over hers, your tongue dancing over her now non-existent carmine as you asked her silently for permission to explore her mouth once again, as if you didn’t have it memorised already, but she granted it, nevertheless. It was a battle for what little control you were willing to give to Avis this time, losing to her as she sucked on your lower lip, her hands holding you in place with her overheated palms on your cheeks. The air was filled with whimpers and whines, answers to your every little touch that only increased in pitch as you broke the kiss, one single drop of blood falling onto Avis’s own lips from where she had bit you down a bit harder, your mouth leaving a thin trail of the red warm liquid as you moved down her throat, vanishing as you pecked her chest. You had barely registered the way your blood was staining her skin, too focused on burying your tongue in the valley of her breasts, but the corselette was in the way and you could hardly reach that delicious skin that was calling out to you in whimpered whispers. Your hands were shaking slightly as you lifted your body from hers to work on the first few hooks of the garment, her ample tits inching closer to freedom as you unclasped each fastening, bouncing and jiggling under your working hands until they finally escape and stared at you in all their glory. You just couldn’t get enough of that creamy flesh and pink hard nipples. The mix between a gasp and moan that Avis produced was utterly sinful as you licked the skin and sucked around her right peak, small red marks painting her flesh before you devoured her, nibbling and pulling on her stiff nipple as your hand raked your nails over her left breast, to the point that only a score of screams could be heard from her.

-Please, Y/N.

To hear her pleading was such a thrilling sound, so unlike the Avis that everyone saw at the studio. And who were you to not listen when she was so sweet under your tongue, so responsive to the way your hands held onto her hips to keep her from thrashing around as you sucked and twirled her nipple until her pleas were finally needy enough, imploring even. You had made a deal after all. Under different circumstance you would have undressed her completely, drank her in until you were absolutely wasted in her essence, but this clearing was still a public area, anyone could come here; you doubted they would, but it could still happen, and you were not willing to let strangers see Avis in such a compromising position. Still, you released her breast after one final nibble that had her eyes rolling to the back of her head momentarily and began to kiss the fabric of her bodice all the way to her pubic bone, the material showing the wet spots you had left behind as you licked and pecked. If you took the lantern and gave it to Avis, she was sure she could light it with her bare hands from the way her skin and blood burnt high, scorching every cell of her being. You were inching closer and closer to where she needed you the most, your lips dancing from her left hip to her right, brushing your kisses so close to her clit that she thought she would go insane if you didn’t touch her, eat her alive. In a quick motion one of her hands held onto your hair, pulling roughly as if she could motion you to obey her, but you were quick to push it away and moved to hover your body over hers. With your hand you grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to face you.

-Do you want me to fuck you, Avis?

-Yes. – she was utterly breathless, lust filling every pore in her body as your domineering energy laced your words, sending shivers down her spine as she felt your other hand lazily moving between her ginger locks. Upon grabbing a handful, you pulled hard, a gasp muttered almost against your lips as the pain rippled through Avis’s frame, turning into such pleasure that she thought she might cum on the spot.

-Then behave. We’ve reversed roles, remember? I could have you writhing in pleasure for hours or I could refuse to touch you until you begged and cried for me to eat you out. – God, she loved you, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as your fingers traced the outline of her folds through her underwear, absolutely drenched and so impossibly hot to the touch. – Is this what you want?

-More.

-More? You mean something… like this? – your skilled fingers moved the lacy garment aside, freeing her completely to the warm air of the night. Dipping them properly in between her wet lips, you slid them up and down as slowly as you could, taking in the way her left hand shot out to grab your upper arm, the other one laid hidden under the bunched-up blanket, groans and moans echoing in your ears as her eyes fluttered close. Her neck was right under your mouth, a slow tender lick coming from the hollow between her collarbones to right under her chin, cleaning up the blood you had left there only a few minutes earlier, drawing out a quiet whimper. It was borderline torture, it had to be, the way you were moving at a snail’s pace, and she knew you knew, a smirk on your lips when she opened her eyes with a pleading look.

-Please, Y/N, don’t tease me.

-It’s not enough? Maybe I can do something about it. – your motions stopped completely, the frustration at the lack of friction making her whine. With your lips brushing her ear you whispered lustfully. - Apologise and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Just one word, Avis.

-I’m sorry. I’m sorry Y/N! Please, please.

-Well done, darling.

She almost missed the pain on her scalp when you released her hair, but there wasn’t much room for her to think when she felt your lips on her inner thighs, licking the soft skin and kissing your way up to the joint between her hip and her wet folds, her breath hitching in her lungs in anticipation. The instant your tongue slid over them she felt as if she was about to pass out, her eyes rolling to the back on her head, ripping what grass she could grasp with her fist. It didn’t matter how many times you tasted her; she was the most delicious salty meal you could ever have, and there was a perfectly cooked steak maybe two feet from you both, but it could not fill you up the way Avis did. The laps you were doing on her drew out moans and yelps from deep within her, her legs trembling already, hips buckling to try and get as much friction as she could. To keep her still you placed a hand on her lower abdomen, reaching with the tip of your tongue the base of her clit. She was close, you could feel it in the way her thighs were beginning to shake ever so slightly, her moans higher and higher in pitch but they were still not quite there yet. There were wrinkles in the blanket that were digging on your knees, but you cared very little, adding your fingers to the upwards-downwards motion as to coat them in her juices and make sure you didn’t hurt her, though with how your face and upper thighs were practically drowning in her arousal you doubted it could happen.

-God, Y/N, more. Fuck.

Two fingers went deep inside her, pumping gently in and out to let her adjust, your tongue having moved higher until her swollen bundle was twirling lazily in your mouth, her fingers on your head out of habit and to keep you well in place. There was a thin layer of sweat covering Avis’s body that made her glow under the moonlight, her skin flustered and the most erotic shade of red your eyes had ever seen, her head lulling back with each movement from your fingers, pants and yelps echoing against the trees. You should keep her quiet, she could draw the attention of passersby, if there were any, but you couldn’t quite do it, it was just delectable to hear her lost in passion. Without a care in the world. Her walls clenched around you, a sign that you needed to increase the pace of your hand as your lips sucked on her clit, feeling how she was coming undone piece by piece at a faster speed that you had anticipated. She must have really worked herself up throughout the day to be so desperate for release. The hand that was holding her in place pressed a little harder, mixing with the third finger that you had just pushed in, adding to the pleasure that had been steadily building higher and higher, skyrocketing it. Her throat felt raw as she screamed over and over, losing her mind under your ministrations, the tension building as her toes curled and her heels dug onto the earth. With one hard nibble on her clit, along with your fingers curling, pressing almost against the one on her abdomen and she fell completely apart.

-Y/N! YES! AHHH! YES! YES!

There was fire in her veins, white hot flames spreading through every cell, every limb, electric shocks travelling from the top of her head to the tip of her toes and fingers, her head thrashing up and down as she held onto your head, buckling her hips to meet your pace as she rode out her orgasm. Her eyes were open wide for an instant, the sky above peppered with millions of tiny sparkles of light, but she was unsure whether they were real or simply brought on by the pleasure that was rocking her entire body. Either way, she didn’t have enough sense left to think, let alone differentiate between reality and dreams. Your punishing pace never faltered, pants and screams mixing until her juices exploded all over your face, her mouth hanging open in utter silence as her back arched of the ground. So the hand pressing on the abdomen really did work, , a little something you had read in a very inappropriate book, you thought as she squirted all over you, your tongue lapping up and down and around your fingers to make sure you were capturing every single drop until there was nothing left, drinking her in. Your mouth had left her overstimulated clit alone, kissing the soft skin of her thighs and knees as you gently helped her come down from her high, fingers slowing down after a moment or two until her legs stopped trapping your head, dropping onto the floor with gentle trembles, the hand on your head slipping onto the ground. She was completely spent, her head clouded in desire and afterglow passion that kept her laying on the floor panting for air. Pulling out, you used to blanket to wipe your fingers clean, crawling beside her until your head rested over your arm, rubbing Avis’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her racing heart and to let her know you were still there, that you hadn’t left her.

-Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?

-Hmmm – all that she could muster at the moment was to open her eyes lazily, turning her head to look at you as the waves of pleasure left her body, the hand that had been holding onto the blanket finally freeing it form its grip, rubbing your thigh over your dress. – It was fantastic, doll. And you say that Ernie didn’t put you on contract?

-I haven’t lost my touch it seems. And yes, there wasn’t much market for me, I’m afraid.

-Fools, all fools. Trust me, baby, if you ever do lose it, I’ll be the first to inform you.

-Good to know. I was wondering, honey, where did you get this underwear? It’s gorgeous.

-It’s actually tailored. I wanted something special, and I went to my favourite store to see what they could do, and we came up with this. I wanted the flowers in gold and white, but they didn’t stand out enough, so we settled on blue and green. Did you notice what flowers they are?

-I’m afraid not, I was too busy staring at your magnificent breasts. – a loud laugh burst from her throat, floating in the air around you as she tapped your thigh in amusement. It was a gift the way you made her adore herself the same way you worshipped her body, as if she was a work of art. After a moment it died down, leaving a small smile on her swollen lips.

-Thank you for the compliment, dear. As for the flowers, they are orange blossoms.

-Avis.

-I know, I didn’t have to do this, but I wanted to. I wanted to have something that clearly means the world to you as closer to me as possible. I couldn’t risk a necklace with your picture, so I settled for the next best thing that would still keep you near my heart.

Your hands took hold on her waist, pulling her body impossibly close to yours, needing her in your space, in your personal bubble. With your left hand you turned her face towards you until your lips met hers, a sweet tender kiss to show her just how much you appreciated the gesture. You would never met someone like her, there was no one like Avis in this entire universe and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found her. She still needed a minute or two to go back to normal, the lazy patterns your fingers were painting on her overheated skin soothing the sensations that were still clinging to her skin. Breaking the kiss your head hid in the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume and the soft hint of sweat that laid over her flesh, but Avis’s eyes were staring up at the sky. The deep universe that laid up above was sprinkled with billions of stars, glinting and shinning like diamond in the firmament, coloured clouds of dust swirling between them, around them, all over, in bright pinks, reds and purples, brushstrokes of baby blue blending among them. They formed a perfect line that crossed from North to South, and as the seconds went by perfect white swirls appeared all around as if an explosion of the most beautiful colour palette had just happened before her eyes, the universe in constant change right in front of her. She could spend all eternity laying here with your body pressed against hers, eyes taking in every little detail of the world around her, the deep emerald trees blending with the navy blue in perfect contrast. A gentle cooing reached her ears, eyes moving from left to right until they settled on the owl that had perched itself high up on a pine tree a while ago, its piercing yellow eyes watching her for an instant before they returned to the deep valley beneath you all. She had lost track of time she realised.

-Y/N?

-Hmm? – with a tender peck on the side of her neck you turned your head to look at her, observing how enthralled she was by the sky. It warmed your heart to see that even after so many years of Avis walking on this planet there were still secrets you could show her, images that her eyes had never laid upon and that you had the power to engrave in her mind.

-Have I told you that I love you?

-Once or twice, I think.

-Well, don’t you forget it, because I truly love you.

-As if I ever could when I love you just as much, Avis.

Her hands slid over yours, a small smile on her lips as she closed her eyes, letting your heat seep into her skin and bones. A cool breeze swept through the clearing, a deep shiver shaking Avis’s frame. It was beginning to get cold, and as you glanced down at your wristwatch you saw that it was nearly eleven, too late for you both after the day you had had. You didn’t want to unwrap yourself from Avis’s frame, but you didn’t want her to get sick, your hands pulling her into a sitting position to hook the corselette back in place, being extra careful not to touch her sensitive nipples. As she adjusted her bosom you crawled around picking up her skirt and blouse, hissing as you felt your knees land right over the spot where all of Avis’s hairpins had landed, cursing under your breath. You had half a mind to leave them there but you didn’t want Avis to ask about them when you were already ten miles away from here and have to drive back to not find them in the dark, so you went around feeling the blanket with your palms and putting them in your pocket until you were sure you had most of them. She was waiting patiently on her knees, the pearly beams bathing her skin as if she was dressed in silver. Your eyes stared at her tussled hair and bruised skin for an instant, contemplating your handy work with pride before handing her the clothes. As you dealt with the uneaten food and spilt cups of wine, from the corner of your eye, you watched Avis stepping into her skirt, the perfect curve of her ass so tempting, the black garment hugging her perfectly as she zipped it before pushing her head through the blouse, smoothing the fabric best she could once everything was in place, running a hand through her slightly knotted curls. Standing up you were about to put the basket back in the trunk when Avis stopped you.

-We still have the ride home; all this doesn’t have to go to waste. Just give it to me.

She had a new lightness to her, her feet almost skipping barefoot over the grass as she rounded the hood of the car to leave the basket on the passenger’s seat, heading your way to help you fold the blanket once you had put the champagne bottle in the trunk. Nature suited her, it gave her a new look on things, it made her feel alive, as if there was something much bigger than her that she had the opportunity to contemplate. Maybe one day the both of you could live in a secluded spot without a worry in the universe, only the trees or the waves witnesses to your love. Once Avis had put her shoes on your eyes there was nothing left on the ground, no sign of what had transpired in the last few hours, and as you were about to turn towards the car you felt for an instant that you could not quite go, that everything had been too perfect to lose it, to only keep it as a memory. Avis had noticed your slumped shoulders and was quick to wrap her arm around your waist and pull you close, simply watching it all. She wanted to say something but was unsure as to what, she wasn’t sure if you even needed to hear something, feeling as if she had to let you go through this on your own terms. So, she simply stood by you, her presence comforting as you once more said a mental goodbye to your home. It never got easier even if it wasn’t really your land or your country, but the sky above was always the same, no matter where you stood the same stars shone bright and glinted in the night and you knew that no matter many oceans separated you from your family they were looking up at the same firmament, a point of eternal union. With a quite sigh you promised yourself that you would come by soon, with Avis if you could.

Nodding against her shoulder Avis understood the movement and gently guided you towards the car, letting go of your hand after opening the door for you. With the both of you settled over the leather seats, the warmth of the cabin a welcome feeling on Avis’s slightly chilled skin you turned the engine on and carefully drove down the same path you had used to get there in the first place. “In the Mood” was playing on the radio, a cheery tune that quickly lifted your spirts, a fork with a piece of steak appearing in your line of vision. With a chuckled you took the meat, chewing even though it was cold, not that you minded, the rich flavours still there, just dulled a little. Hearing some ruffling beside you, you turned your attention away from the road for a moment to see Avis battling with a potato that kept sliding off her fork, the gravy dripping in thick drops. Reaching the edge of the woods, the sign for Runon Park shone bright against your car’s headlights, showing the way to those awful secondary roads that you needed to drive trough to get to the freeway, but the ride wasn’t as back. Avis kept feeding you every few minutes, a light banter and chatter settling between you over the music that the radio was playing, a sip from the bottle of wine smoothing everything down beautifully until there was only a little bit less of the red liquid left once you got to the freeway.

At that time of night there wasn’t much traffic, and you could slip your eyes of the road just a tad bit more to look at Avis as she gave you the final bite of the Caesar salad, moving on to the fruit. There were strawberries, bananas and what you suspected were slices of oranges, not entirely sure from your current angle. Avis showed you the fork with some of it, asking simply by raising her eyebrows, but you kindly declined, full already and not desiring a night of tossing and turning with indigestion, she could have it all if she wanted them. The radio began to play a different tune, something a bit slower, the atmosphere in the car adapting perfectly as you took exit 56, your companion resting her back against the seat while munching happily on what you were now sure were oranges. The Amberg residence was only a few streets away already, swerving the car around the corner, the night inching closer to an end that neither of you wanted, reality settling in between you once again, those stupid social norms that kept you from simply walking into her house and never leaving. The streetlamps shone bright as you came up to the gates, noticing strangely that they were slightly open, Mr. Breaton nowhere to be found, but you didn’t think much of it, he was an older man and it was already late, he could have simply gone home.

Parking on the side, in your unofficial spot, you turned the engine off. There was no beating around the bush, she was home, and she didn’t want to part ways with you, she simply wasn’t ready; there was a voice in the back of her mind that told her that she had to stay with you. Avis had turned her head in your direction, but the words she was about to say never made it out, your body already out of the car, rounding the hood to open the door for her. You didn’t want to leave her, of course, but you weren’t going to cry about it either, you preferred to cling to the memories of this evening, stretching your hand to help her out after pushing the door out of the way. She was pleasantly surprised by the gesture and smiled up at you, a charming “thank you” leaving her lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard to convince as she had thought. Accompanying her to the front door the breeze that swayed around you both was turning colder by the minute, a very slow fog forming around the streetlamps. The hairs on the nape of your neck suddenly rose, your body filled with goosebumps, the strangest sensation spreading through your body, but you were quick to push it away. The porchlight was on, glowing softly as you walked the few steps that separated the garden from the front doors, coming to stand under its roof. It was rather childish the way you were both simply standing there, like a teenage couple that had just returned from watching a film or having a milkshake, wanting to stay with each other but knowing that the best thing was to part ways. And yet your hands never left hers.

-Here we are.

-Yes, here we are.

-You can stay if you want. There’s more than enough room in my bed for you. – her grip was a bit harder, hope blooming in her chest that perhaps tonight she wouldn’t have to go up to an empty bedroom and lay awake all alone.

-I know, but your daughter’s home and you need to sleep. I’ve kept you out long enough already.

-She doesn’t have to know.

-I don’t want to ruin the relationship you are building with her. I don’t want you to lie to her and break that bond that you’ve been working so hard on.

-I don’t want you to go. – her voice was so small; it sounded so weak and sad that you were tempted to stay and throw caution to the wind, but you knew that if you stayed Claire would go nuts at you both if she found out, and you were more than sure that you would find it very hard to not sleep with Avis again and she really needed to rest. Letting go of one of her hands you placed it on her cheek, rubbing the soft skin tenderly.

-I don’t want to either but think about it this way. If I go, you will have something look forward to the next time we met. True that it won’t be in a week, we will see each other again at the studio tomorrow, but I’m sure that you will look forward to it.

-Will you have lunch with me then?

-Of course. Now, go in and go to bed. I think I’ve left you satiated enough that sleep will find you easily.

-Cheeky. Thank you for tonight Y/N. I’m grateful that you showed me such a special place. I didn’t know there was anything like that here.

-It was my pleasure, believe me. Perhaps when the weather allows it, you and I can go visit a few more of those secret spots.

-I would love to. I’ll see you tomorrow?

-Tomorrow.

-I love you.

-I love you too.

These bittersweet kisses were not your favourites by far, after all partings never were even if they were only temporary, but at least you would go to bed with the flavour of her and the acidity of the oranges she had just had deep in your lips. Separating after a few seconds, she flashed you a bright smile before pulling her keys put of her purse and opening the doors. From underneath the threshold she blew you a kiss, your hand moving to catch it and place it close to your heart. The darkness of the hall swallowed her, and you stood there until the sound of the heavy oak closing in front of you boomed in your head. Perhaps you had been wrong, maybe you could stay tonight, just once, you thought, but your musings were interrupted by the sudden feeling that someone was watching you. For an instant you thought it might be Claire, but the curtains of her room were drawn and there were no shapes near the windows. Turning around you inspected the garden but there was no one there and yet the feeling only got worse, the fog settling faster than you liked as you made your way to your car as quickly as possible. Avis heard the rumbling of your motor from the bedroom, removing her clothes as she stepped into the bathroom, that feeling that you should have stayed stronger than before but there was nothing she could do about it now. Backing out from the house and back onto the road you didn’t see the figures dressed in black that came from the shadows, slipping into Avis’s house without an issue, hands signalling onto the empty street, or what might have been an empty street if a black Lincoln hadn’t unparked out of the blue, following you into the night. Come the next day you would realise that its headlights never turned on.

#avis amberg #avis amberg x reader #patti lupone x reader #patti lupone #lilia calderu #lilia x reader #we thank miss lupone simply for existing #hollywood 2020

75 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 1 year ago

Text

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 6

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Summary: Ellie's sick. Cue Melissa to jump in to help.

WC: ~2.7k

Over the past few months, the way that the redhead has made herself present in your life has only gotten stronger. She’s with you in the morning for breakfast, during the drive to and from school, she shows up when you need help with school work, there when you just need some adult time. She’s there for Ellie when she needs help with homework, wants to cuddle but you’re busy, there when she’s excited or sleepy, has had a nightmare and she’s with you on the couch, shows up when her dance class has a parent night… she’s just there. She always is.

But you still don’t want to ruin what you have going on. Life is easy and nice right now with her… if you two decide to date and it falls apart, she’s gone. Or you’re gone. You suppose that if it were all to go up in flames, this is her apartment complex, Abbott is her school, the coworkers that you’ve become friendly with are hers. The only thing that you would get out of a breakup with the redhead is your daughter. And even then, you’re fairly certain at this point that Ellie would be more devastated about not seeing Melissa than she is about the absence of her father. So you haven’t done anything about it yet.

But that’s about to change… not that you know it.

Ellie’s been sniffling a lot lately, but you’ve just contributed it to the fact that the seasons are changing, you have allergies, her father has allergies… so naturally she should have inherited your seasonal allergies. You don’t realize that she’s picked up what seems to be making its way through Barbara’s classroom.

Your daughter is currently putting up the biggest fight of her life. She does not want to go to school, which is so unusual for her. She’s flat out refusing to eat the breakfast that Melissa made, she’s sticking her nose up at every sweater for her to put over her uniform that you try to show her, and she bursts into tears when you tell her that she can’t bring her stuffy to school with her because it isn’t a stuffy day.

“Elizabeth,” you sigh. You’re slowly starting to lose your patience. “Come on. We have to go to school today.”

“Why?! Other kids are not coming in because they’re sick!”

“Because you aren’t sick, baby,” you tell her as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Now please. We have to be out the door in ten minutes, and Momma isn’t ready for school yet.” You suppose you’ll have to do your makeup in the car while your neighbor drives in to the school.

“I don’t feel good though,” she whines.

At that, you soften. You place the back of your hand on her forehead, cheeks, and the back of her neck. She’s a little warm, but it’s nothing to be worried over.

“I’m sorry, lovey,” you sigh. “You just have to make it through today, and then when we get home tonight, we can cuddle.”

As you’re leaving the house, you throw a few tylenol in your bag for Ellie if she needs it throughout the day.

The girl clings to Melissa as soon as she’s back in your apartment, and the redhead does everything she can to try to get Ellie to smile- it doesn’t work. She just lays her head on the woman’s shoulder and sighs heavily.

You’re able to get your daughter into the school, and by then her cheeks are a little flushed. But she did fall asleep during the short car ride over, so you think that the red on her right cheek is from where her seatbelt was.

Ellie stays in Melissa’s lap during the morning news, and when it’s time for her to go with Barbara down to the classroom, the water works start again.

Melissa hands your daughter over to her kindergarten teacher with a shrug. You kiss Ellie’s temple gently, telling her to have a good day, before you and the redhead are making your way down to your wing.

“What’s got pipsqueak so upset today?” your colleague asks quietly.

You bite your lip. “She isn’t feeling well I don’t think.”

She frowns. “Poor thing. Shouldn’t she be home? Or with your parents resting?”

“My parents are galavanting around Europe right now,” you huff. “Or she would be.”

“You could’ve taken off today to keep her home.”

You roll your eyes. “We are so short on subs lately, and I don’t need to have Mr. Johnson as my sub if I can help it.”

“Fair point,” Melissa chuckles. “Last time he was my sub, the kids came in the next day telling me all about the fourth dimension.”

It’s only about 9:30 when your classroom phone rings. It’s Barbara, so you tell your kids to work on the next math problem before answering it.

“Ellie still hasn’t calmed down,” the kindergarten teacher tells you quickly. “I’m not quite sure what else to do. I gave her stickers, I gave her hugs, I told her she could hold one of my stuffed animals…”

“I’m so sorry Barb,” you apologize.

“She should be home, Y/N,” the woman tells you sternly.

You breathe out. “I know… but I don’t have sub plans or a sub, and my parents aren’t around to come pick her up.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Maybe just send her down to the nurse so she can sleep on the cots?” you suggest. “I’ll call down and tell them the situation.”

The veteran teacher agrees and hangs up. You dial the nurse and beg her to let Ellie stay down there for the day while you teach. She begrudgingly agrees after you promise you’ll make her a key lime pie as payment.

Your prep comes faster than you really expect it to, and you line your kids up to take them down to the music room as Melissa is lining her kids up to take her class to gym.

“I can come to your room once I drop them,” the redhead tells you.

“You can, but I won’t be there,” you sigh as you fall into step with her. “I have to head down to the nurse’s office.”

“Ellie still isn’t feeling well?”

The two of you head into the nurse’s office, and the woman behind her desk doesn’t look very pleased with you. Ellie is laying on one of the cots crying.

“Oh, sweetness.” Your heart breaks at her little sniffles. As you pull her into your arms, you immediately feel how hot she is, but she’s trembling as if she’s standing out in the snow without her winter coat on.

“Momma,” she cries. “I’m so chilly!”

You immediately take your sweater off and drape it around her, pulling it tightly to her body. It seems to help, but she’s still cold despite the sweat forming around her brow.

“Kid’s been crying since she got here,” the nurse tells you. “Fever of 101. She should not be here.”

“I know, I know,” you mutter. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll make you a meatloaf as payment for having her down here,” Melissa tells the woman as she too shrugs off her blazer and gives it to your daughter.

“Miss Mel,” your daughter reaches for the redhead immediately.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” the second grade teacher says softly, but doesn’t take your daughter out of your arms. Ellie squirms, and while you try to fight the hurt on your face, it doesn’t quite work. “Stay with your momma, hun.”

“But I want you,” your daughter mumbles as a tear falls down her face. You hand her over.

“I should probably get some work done anyway,” you shrug. You start to head out of the nurse’s office, but the redhead follows.

“I thought we were going to work on your lesson plans,” she says softly, Ellie on her hip.

You shrug. “I can always get some other stuff done.”

The two of you work quietly in your room, Ellie clinging to the redhead and falling asleep rather quickly.

Your preps are over far sooner than desired, but such is life. When you look up from your teacher’s manual, Ellie is fast asleep in Melissa’s lap.

“Shit.”

“She’s fine,” the second grade teacher promises. She stands and starts to make her way down towards the gym.

You chase after her. “Mel, she has to go back to-”

“I can teach with her,” the redhead tells you. “It’ll probably keep my kids in line better than they would be if I wasn’t holding a small, sick child anyway.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you argue back.

She waves you off. “You didn’t, I’m just doing it. And if it becomes too much, she can lay on my carpet with the bean bag and sleep there.”

“You’re going to get-”

“I’ve been teaching for years now,” she laughs. “My immune system is made of steel at this point. Don’t even worry about me. Just go get your kids and teach. We’ll see you at lunch.”

You watch as she makes her way down to the gym, Elizabeth in her arms and snoring softly. You see her press a delicate kiss to the girl’s sweaty hairline before smiling at her gently. The eyes that she’s looking at your daughter with are full of love and no selfishness in the slightest. If you weren’t sure before, you are now. Melissa is worth all of the risks in the world. You turn on your heel to pick up your kids from the music room.

Come lunch time, the redhead still has your daughter on her hip, and your heart swoons at the sight. The badass, mob-like teacher is just so soft and gentle with your little girl. Ellie is awake now, but she keeps her head resting in the crook of Melissa’s neck. As the two of you walk your kids to the lunchroom, Ellie waves at you sleepily.

“No sleeping again yet,” Melissa tuts quietly. “We have to make sure your belly is full and you drink some water before you nap again.”

“Mhmm,” your girl hums out sleepily.

Ellie spends the entirety of your lunch period wrapped up in your sweater and Melissa’s blazer curled up in your lap. You just barely get her to eat, but when Melissa attempts to get her to eat, she does so easily.

The rest of your friend group spends the period quietly, watching as the redhead handles your daughter with such a maternal warmth that they’ve never quite seen from her before. And when Ellie falls back asleep in your hold from your gentle rocking her, they fall silent at the steely gaze Melissa gives them.

Ellie lets out a small whine for the redhead when you stand to pick your kids back up, and Melissa just takes her back into her arms with a wave of the hand.

“Pipsqueak’s been a good human heater for me,” she chuckles before glancing at your daughter. “Isn’t that right?”

The six year old nods into her shoulder before turning her head and blowing you a tired kiss.

“Only a couple more hours, and then you can curl up at home with your momma, okay hun?” she tries to assure the little girl.

“And you?”

“And me, if you want.”

“Yes, please,” Ellie requests softly.

At the end of the day, you make your way outside to help monitor dismissal alongside your neighbor. Ellie is still in her arms and fast asleep. She’s been asleep on the redhead for quite some time if the rather large wet spot on Melissa’s shoulder is any indication.

“My poor little girl,” you sigh as you brush a few hairs away from your daughter’s face. You kiss her head gently.

“She’s been out for a while,” Melissa tells you quietly. “But let me tell you, my kids have never been more well behaved.”

“You’ve been holding her since lunch?!”

“I tried to set her down on the carpet, and she stayed there for about five minutes before coming back over to me and begging me to hold her because she was cold. I just taught from my desk.”

“You could’ve sent her over to me,” you tell your coworker.

She shrugs. “I didn’t mind having the little one with me.”

Ellie stays asleep throughout dismissal and the drive home. When Melissa pulls into the parking garage at your complex, you grab your things and collect your daughter before turning back to walk in with the redhead. She’s still in the driver’s seat though.

“Go in. I have to run to the grocery store if I’m going to make my Nonna’s chicken noodle soup for the two of you.”

“I can make-”

“Trust me when I tell you this stuff will have El healed in no time flat, and you’re going to want it for when you get sick too,” your neighbor tells you. “I’ll be over once I’m back.”

You head in and settle yourself on the couch. Ellie lays on top of you, fast asleep and shivering. You kiss her forehead before reaching for the remote to turn on the television. There’s no way you’re going to get any work done tonight- you have to step up and be the mother for your daughter you always promised you would be.

The little girl only stirs when there’s a gentle knock on your front door, followed by the redhead stepping into your house and heading for the kitchen.

“Miss Mel?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah, baby,” you whisper back. “She’s making you soup so you can feel better.”

“I love Miss Mel,” she sighs quietly as she cuddles back into your hold.

You smile. “I do too.”

The woman brings three bowls of soup into the living room, along with two mugs of hot tea and some juice for Ellie, before settling on the couch next to you. The soup is amazing- not that you expected anything else.

When dinner is over, you give your daughter a bit of cold medicine, hoping she’ll feel better in the morning. She demands cuddles from both you and Melissa, but she’s quick to fall back asleep once she’s situated between the two of you. That leaves you and the redhead to chat about your days and have a bit of adult time. You know that you want to approach the situation at hand- the obvious feelings that she has for you and the feelings that you have for her.

“Why are you doing all this?” you finally ask.

“Doing what?” she raises a brow.

You gesture broadly. “All of this: helping us adjust to a new life, being here for Ellie, helping me get a job and then mentoring me, cooking us dinner… for heaven’s sake, you’re taking care of my child while she’s sick.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she shrugs.

At that, you sigh. “Because I kind of expected to you hate me and stop coming over after I told you that us might never happen.”

“I could never hate you. I’d rather have you as a friend in my life than nothing at all,” she says softly as she places a hand over your own. “Besides,” she chuckles. “It’d be pretty awkward seeing each other at work and when we’re running in and out of the apartment if we stopped talking.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah.”

“And I think Ellie and I are something of kindred spirits,” the redhead says as she looks down at your slumbering daughter. “I couldn’t just leave her high and dry.”

You smile. “She’s a special one.”

“She is.”

“So are you,” you look at her with a soft gaze.

She rolls her eyes playfully. “I ain’t nothin’ special, hun.”

“You are,” you whisper as you squeeze her hand in your own. “So special.”

She rolls those striking green eyes again and turns her attention back to the television.

“Hey.” Melissa looks back to you, and you squeeze her hand again. “Special enough for me to throw caution to the wind and do this.” You press your lips to hers softly.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

311 notes · View notes

morgana-larkin · 4 months ago

Text

I was gonna have this out earlier but I was having major period cramps earlier so it's didn't really happen. Anyway, the story really takes a turn here. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

Just Tired - Part 12

Warnings: Manipulative relationship (Mentioned), Swearing, Smut

Words: 4.05k

Melissa wakes up and looks over to beside her and expects a young woman there only to find it empty. She then looks around and sees that she’s in your room and some memories come to her brain. She gets up, gets dressed and goes downstairs and sees you’re already up.

“Morning, how do you feel?” You ask her.

“Not so good.” She says. “My memories are a little hazy, why am I in your house?” She asks you.

“Well I wasn’t there the entire time so I can only tell you what I know.” You say to her and she nods. “I went there because Barb was worried about you and I found you dancing with some young woman. You threw up when I tried talking to you but we had a discussion right after to which you childishly walked away and went back to dance. I stayed to keep an eye on you and then you began making out with some girl, apparently to hurt me, and then I walked out. You followed after me, and also tripped, I brought you back here to clean up the cut and then you fell asleep.” You explain and Melissa takes a few seconds to process what you just said as some memories were coming back to her.

“I was such an ass to you.” She says and then comes to join you on the couch. You hand her a plate with some toast on it and she takes it. “Thank you.” She says and takes a bite.

“Why were you being an ass? You ignored me all week and then went on Friday and Saturday night to the bar alone. You mentioned that you thought I was moving on from you but nothing else. I mean why were you spiraling?”

“Because I thought I was losing you and you make me feel safe. So I thought I was losing what makes me feel safe.” She explains.

“Well you don’t have to worry about that, I’m not going anywhere.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Thank you.” She says softly. “And I’m sorry.”

“I understand. I’m your safety net right now and it’s scary when you think you could lose it.” You tell her and she looks down as a tear falls down her face. “Melissa.” You say and you gently grab her chin and get her to look at you. “I forgive you. I’m not mad at you at all. If anything I was worried about you.” You tell her and she looks at you in disbelief.

“You forgive me?” She asks softly and you nod. “But- but I hurt you and I wanted you to feel that way.”

“True, you intended to hurt me and I was upset that you were making out with a girl, but your emotions were getting the best of you and you acted out to try and protect yourself and make yourself feel better.” You tell her and she looks down again. “Melissa, did Joe tell you it wasn’t ok to cry?” You ask her and she nods without looking at you. “It’s ok to cry, it’s part of being human and crying makes you feel better.”

“No, it’s not ok, it’s…” She chokes out and doesn’t finish the sentence.

“It’s what? What did he tell you?”

“It means I’m too sensitive, too emotional and that it makes me look pathetic.” She says as more tears stream down her face.

“I can promise you right now that none of that is true.” You tell her and she looks at you. “You’re a strong independent woman, and maybe you’re a bit emotional right now but you just escaped hell. If you weren’t emotional then I’d be worried.” You tell her and you hear her sniffle as she tries to stop her crying. “Hey, you don’t have to stop, come here.” You tell her and she puts her plate down and she leans into your touch as you wrap your arms around her.

As soon as you begin hugging her, it’s like a dam breaks and Melissa starts crying. She wraps her arms around you and just cries into your chest. She just keeps crying for a few minutes and then she starts slowing down and starts sniffing. You begin stroking her head and rub her back and you feel her hug you tighter. You reach over to the table in front of the couch and grab the box of tissue and you hand it to her.

“Thank you.” She says, voice raspy from the crying as she grabs a tissue.

“I’ll always be here to help you, Melissa.” You tell her and give her a kiss on the top of her head.

“How did I get so lucky with you?”

“Well maybe the universe made sure I was born so that I could help you.” You tell her and she hums.

“I’m glad you were born.” She says.

“Me too.” You tell her and wrap your arms around her. “By the way, yesterday you mentioned something and I want to know if it’s true.” You say.

“What did I say?”

“You said that you told those 2 girls not to touch you when they took you home. Is that true?”

“Ya, I couldn’t go through with it. I mean how could I when all I thought about was you?” She says and you lean your head on top of her head.

“That girl I went home with, I imagined you the entire time.” You tell her and she lifts her head up and looks at you.

“I’m sorry that I’m not ready for anything. Right now I need something casual or one night or even friends.” She says and you cup her cheek.

“I understand.” You tell her and she looks into your eyes. “Maybe… maybe you'd be interested in casual dating.” You say to her.

“What’s casual dating?”

“Well it’s two people that date but they’re not in a relationship, they don’t put a title on it. They can go on dates or have sex, but it’s not exclusive.” You explain.

“That does sound nice but I don’t really want to try dating apps or anything to find someone like that.” She says and looks down.

“Well maybe…we could.” You offer and she looks at you.

“Are you offering to be my casual date?” She asks and you nod. “Why?”

“Because we’re both attracted to each other but you’re not wanting to be in a relationship right now, so maybe we can explore some casual dating with each other.” You explain and she looks down as she thinks about it.

“Are you sure?” She asks and you nod.

“I’m sure.” You say and she sits up.

“Well I guess that leaves one question then.” She says and you quirk your eyebrows. “Will you go on a date with me?” She asks and you smile before nodding.

“Yes I will.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Is tonight good for you?” She asks you and you nod.

“I did everything yesterday so I got nothing going on today.” You say.

“Can you drive me to Barb’s house? I would like to get ready for this date.” She says and you look at your phone.

“It’s 9am, when do you want to go on this date?” You ask her.

“Noon?” She asks and you chuckle.

“Ok, noon it is.” You confirm and then you drive her to Barb’s. “Hey Barb.” You tell her as you and Melissa walk through the door.

“Oh Melissa, are you ok?” She asks her.

“I’m alright, Y/n helped me yesterday and this morning. And I want to say I’m sorry for snapping at you and I hope you’re not mad at me.” She says to Barb.

“I was never mad at you, Melissa. I was so worried about you and I didn’t know what to do.” She says to Melissa and Melissa goes and hugs her. “Melissa, you’ve been my friend for 15 years, it’ll take a lot more than you snapping and slamming a door in my face to push me away.”

“Thank you, Barb.” She says and then turns to you. “I’ll see you in a few hours?” She asks you and you smile and nod.

“Am I picking you up or are you picking me up?”

“Hm, I’ll come pick you up.” She tells you and you nod.

“See you soon.” You say and then leave.

“So want to tell me what you guys are doing later?” Barb asks her.

“She told me about this thing called casual dating, where we date but we don’t have a relationship and we could still do physical things like kiss if we want.” She explains to Barb.

“So you two are dating then?”

“If today goes well then hopefully.” Melissa says with a smile before she goes upstairs to get ready.

Melissa pulls up a couple minutes after noon and knocks on your door. You open the door and Melissa's eyes widen and her brain freezes when she sees your outfit.

“Wow.” Melissa says breathlessly when she takes in your little red dress that gives her a view of your cleavage and bottom of your thighs. You blush at her compliment and then look at her outfit.

“You look beautiful, Melissa, absolutely beautiful.” You tell her as you take in her outfit. She’s wearing the iconic leather pants and jacket and a very revealing and beautiful pink shirt. You also notice that she decided to have her hair in a ponytail and she did her makeup a bit differently.

“Thanks hon, are you ready?”

“Yep, where are we going?” You ask her.

“I thought of taking a walk in the park and stop by the ice cream shop and if you’re up for it, go to my room after.” She says and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Your room for what exactly? Talk? Make out? Sex?” You ask her.

“Any of those I wouldn’t mind to be honest.” She tells you and you playfully shove her as you walk past her and she giggles.

Melissa drives you both to the park and you get out and have a stroll through it.

“So do you have any questions you want to ask, get to know me better?” Melissa asks you.

“Does this mean I have free range and will actually get answers?” You counter and she hums.

“Maybe, you won’t know unless you ask.” She says

“Alright, we can start easy, you said you have 8 siblings right?” You ask and she nods.

“Can’t believe you remember that but yes, 5 sisters and 3 brothers.” She tells you.

“And what are their names?” You ask her.

“Well there’s Kristen Marie, Marie, Marie Camille, Maria Christina, sister Toni, brother Tony, John Anthony and Seamus.” She says.

“Seamus? Why is his name so different from the others?”

“Different dad.” She tells you and you nod.

“Do you have a favourite sibling?”

“No, they’re all annoying.” She says but you can tell she loved all of them.

“Have you told any of them about your pending divorce?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“I’ll only tell them when I’m actually divorced.” She tells you.

“Don’t you think they might ask questions on Thanksgiving or even Christmas when Joe is not there?” You ask and she hums.

“I didn’t think about that.” Is all she says. “My family doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving but we do celebrate Christmas and it’s Marie’s turn this year to host the Christmas dinner.” She tells you.

“You said you were the oldest sibling, so shouldn’t they have some respect for you? So I’m sure they won’t mind that you’re getting a divorce.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Hon, this is an Italian family. They can be old fashioned at times.”

“You said they’ll only take you out of the loop, but they’ll still be your family.” You tell her and she shrugs.

“I guess. Since you asked some family questions, I want to ask you some.” She tells you and you nod.

“Ask away.” You tell her and she goes and asks a few questions about your family as you both walk around the park. She finishes asking you questions and you notice the tire swing is free. “Come on.” You say and take her hand before leading her to the tire.

“Where are you taking me?” She asks while laughing.

“To the tire swing of course!” You say and tell her to get on.

“Hon, I’m too old for it.” She says and crosses her arms.

“Get on the damn tire.” You say and challenge her with your gaze. She sighs before she goes and gets on the tire. She gets on one side and rests her feet in the middle of the tire on the other side. You go underneath the tire and pop up in the middle of it, in between her legs.

“Well that’s a view.” She says and you roll your eyes playfully before you hold the rope of the tire and do a run and jump on the tire, with your legs in between hers, as it starts swinging you both. You see Melissa starts laughing as you both swing on it and you decide to do something extra. You stop the tire from swinging and stand back in the middle before you start spinning it around, twisting the rope. “What are you doing?” She asks and you smirk.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t know if I want to find out as you’re smirking.” She says and you giggle. Once you’re satisfied you’ve twisted it enough, you do the run and jump again. Only this time it’s untwisting as it swings.

“Aaaahhh!” Melissa yells out before she starts laughing. “This is a lot of fun.” She says as you’re still swinging.

“I did this all the time as a kid.” You say.

“I don’t doubt that.” She says through giggles. When the swing stops, you stand in the middle again to get it to swing again but Melissa stops you by wrapping her legs around your waist and brings you closer to her.

“Careful Ms. Schemmenti, there’s kids around.” You tell with a flirty tone and she hums.

“How can I be careful when you’re in front of me, in between my legs?” She asks and you smile.

“You find it hot when I’m between your legs?” You ask her and she nods.

“Very much so.” She says and she leans forward for a kiss but you place a finger on her lips. “You’re stopping me again?” She asks after you remove your finger.

“Oh I’m going to kiss you but not in the middle of the playground.” You tell her and get out from the tire and go behind her and you grab the rope close to where her hands are and place your head on her shoulder. “Because when I start kissing you, I won’t want to stop.” You say and start spinning the tire, twisting the rope. Once you twist it quite a bit, you let go and watch as Melissa is spinning and laughing. Once it's done moving, she looks at you with a smile.

“Help me get off of this thing.” She says and you hold your hand out for her and she takes it and gets off. “Thank you, that was a lot of fun.” She tells you and you move back on the sidewalk as some kids come to play on the tire.

“How about we go to the ice cream shop now?” You ask her and she nods and she holds your hand as you walk to the ice cream shop. You both enter the shop and look at all the different choices before you decide on chocolate.

“Of course you go with chocolate, you chocoholic.” She says and you wink at her before she orders. You go and get your card out but then you hear a beep and look to see that Melissa already tapped her card on the machine and paid for both.

“You’re sneaky.” You say and she smiles at you before she gets handed her ice cream. A few seconds later you get handed yours. “Thank you.” You tell the worker and then you both walk out of the shop and start walking and eating your ice cream. Melissa glances at you as you take a big lick of your ice cream and she can’t help her mind from going places.

“Is there anything else that tongue is good at licking?” She asks and you look at her with a smirk.

“There is one other thing that I have some experience with.” You tell her and she gets wet between the legs.

“Let’s walk back to my car, and maybe drive us back to Barb’s? She’s not home right now and she won’t be home until the evening.” She says and you both start walking to her car while eating your ice cream.

You get back to her car just as you both finish eating and then you get in and she drives you both to her temporary home. You get out after putting her car in park and she lets you both in and you take her hand and lead her to the bedroom. You enter her room and close the door before you bring her to the bed and you both sit down on the side of the bed. You can tell she’s a bit nervous so you cup her cheek and get her to look at you.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You tell her.

“I want to do it with you but this time I’ll want to be touched.” She tells you and you hum.

“And not only will you be touched, you’ll have an orgasm or multiple ones.” You say and she blushes and looks away.

“It’s been awhile since that’s happened.” She says and you lean forward and kiss her. She wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you closer to her. She then leans forward and pushes you backward and you get on your back. While kissing her you take her leather jacket off and fling it across the room. She runs her hands all over her body before she holds your hands and moves your arms over your head. “Is there a zipper on the dress or do I just pull it off?” She asks and you smile.

“Just pull it off.” You say and help her as she pulls it off of you and she looks at your half naked body.

“God, you’re so sexy.” She says as she touches all over your body. You reach for the hem of her shirt and then you take it off and freeze when you see her boobs in a fantastic bra and you get a better look at them. “I think you’re obsessed with my tits.” She says.

“How could I not with how big they are?” You ask and she giggles before she gets on your lap and pulls you up in a seated position. She cups both your cheeks and kisses you before she trails her down and goes behind to unclip your bra. She flings it across the room without looking and touches all over your exposed stomach before she looks.

“You look so beautiful.” She says and you tuck a strand behind her ear and she leans into your touch.

“You’re so sweet. I want to see your body as well, are you ok with that?” You ask and she nods.

“Please.” She says and you immediately unclip her bra and take it off and your mouth waters at the sight. “Please touch them all you want, Joe barely touched them.” She says and you look at her in shock.

“He had access to these magnificent boobs and he barely touched them?” You ask and she nods. “He’s such a fucking idiot.” You say before you lean forward and put a nipple in your mouth. She gasps at the sensation and puts her hands in your hair so you don’t move. You pay attention to what gets the most noises out of her and repeat the movements that she likes the best. After you’re satisfied enough, you switch to the other one and do the same movements that she likes. She ends up pulling you off of her and gets you on your back and puts one of your nipples in her mouth. Pretty much anything she does will get sounds out of you and she’s enjoying pleasing you. When she finishes with both nipples she trails up to your neck and sucks on it. “Oh god, Melissa.” You gasp out and she smirks as she feels you rub your thighs together. She slowly peels your underwear off of you and sees how wet you are.

“You’re soaking.” She says and runs a finger through your folds and you moan and buck your hips.

“Please, I need you.” You beg and she smiles before she slips a finger inside of you and you gasp.

“You’re so wet and tight, you feel perfect.” She says as she starts pumping. She then adds another finger and you buck your hips before she pins you down with her free hand. She then curls her fingers inside of you and you see stars and she goes faster as well. She then trails her free hand down and circles your clit.

“Oh my god, don’t stop.” You say and she watches as you get closer and closer to an orgasm. You wrap your hands in her hair and tighten them as you’re at the edge. Melissa feels you clench around her fingers and your legs shake. You then let go and your orgasm rushes through you. “Oh my god.” You say as you catch your breath. You then wrap your arms around her waist and flip you both so you’re on top and she’s underneath you.

“Oof.” She says and then you kiss her and she moans into the kiss. You trail down to her neck and make sure to leave a couple hickeys on her neck. You then take off her leather pants and underwear and see how wet she is.

“You’re perfect.” You say and you see the blush that makes its way on her cheeks and you think she couldn’t look more beautiful. You kiss all over her chest as you play with a nipple and she’s moaning underneath you.

“Please, stick a finger inside of me.” She begs and how can you deny her anything? You trail a hand down and slip a finger inside her. “Oh my god, that feels so good.” She gasps out as you pump your finger inside of her.

You then go down to her pussy and you kiss her clit before you start licking and sucking on her. She starts bucking her hips and you pin her down as you keep going. She puts her hands in your hair and moves her hands all over your hair as you keep giving her pleasure. Melissa then feels her orgasm start to build and she almost can’t believe it. It keeps getting stronger and stronger as she gets closer to her orgasm and she tightens her hold on your hair.

“Oh god oh god! I’m so close!” She yells out before her orgasm washes all over her and she lets go of your hair.

“Do you want another one? I can give you two orgasms.” You offer and she chuckles.

“No, I’m good with just the one for now, come up here.” She tells you and you go lay beside her.

“How do you feel?” You ask her as she wraps an arm around you and pulls you to her body.

“I feel so good. I can’t even find the right words for how good I feel.” She says to you and you smile as you lay your head on her chest. “Thank you.” She tells you before she gives you a kiss on the top of your head.

“Anytime.” You tell her and wrap an arm around her waist and get comfortable. Melissa hums at the feeling and then she looks up at the ceiling and smiles.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

@dashbag-art

@morgananyx

@schmentisgf

@cblanchetts

@that-october-night

@schemmentigfs

@italianaidiota

@ambessas-doll

@ankhsta

@olderwomenenthusiast

@ackleybloodybridge

@angelcorner

@creaturesaphique

@cupldscntrl

@calliopetworld

@alwaysgoodnight

@yoyo-w

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #lisa ann walter #law #abbott elementary

84 notes · View notes

sexy-monster-fucker · 2 months ago

Text

To See If I Can Catch a Dream

Dr. Gregory House x Doctor!Reader

Summary/Part 5: Reader has made her mind up. Heading out to Boston for the conference that would welcome her as the new Head of Neurology.

CW: vomit/vomiting, blood, form of self harm, mentions of OD, implied disordered eating, substance abuse, backstory baby!, ANGST ANGST ANGST, mentions of motherhood/wanting kids,

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 <-

a/n: sorry if the timeline conflicts with anything canon in House, I kept finding different information about how long before the first season of the show that House had his leg injury. also I was so seriously tempted to make an entire playlist based off this fanfic, I’m so obsessed with their love story.

title track 🎶🩶

~~~

You hunched over the toilet in your bathroom. Unable to sleep. Rest a distant relative of yours. The paper crinkled under your grasp. Rereading it again and again.

Boston Children’s Hospital.

You threw up again. Spilling your guts into the porcelain bowl. Overwhelmed with anxieties from the fight you had with House. Mentally punishing yourself for everything. Manifesting as your upchucked stomach. Beating yourself up for allowing House to speak to you that way. For letting him have such a strong hold on your well-being. Punching the tile beneath you as you screamed. Loud enough you were sure the neighbors heard you. Knuckles bleeding from your repetitive assault. Tugging at your hair as you sobbed hard. Heartbreak never having such a strong toll over you before. Resting your cheek against the disgusting toilet seat, staining it with your tears. Not caring about the germ count.

Sliding into the floor. Clutching the paper flat against your chest. Staring up at the bright lights of your ceiling. Squinting at the harsh glare. Groaning now that your stomach was completely empty and your whole body ached. Praying to a God who went against everything you knew. Praying that House was not relapsing. Over-dosing on Vicodin and booze. Reaching for your phone you had discarded on the floor, typing out a simple message.

“I love you.” You stared at it. The words loosing all meaning the longer you looked that them. Dropping the flip phone against your face. Closing your eyes to block out the soft glow of the screen. Opting out of sending the message. It would do more harm than good.

You knew that.

~~~

You got yourself put together early. Taking a shower to wash away the night of regrets. Steaming room helping free the mucus from the obscene about of crying you had done. Using your favorite shampoo and soap. The ones you usually saved for a date or special occasion. Needing a confidence boost wherever you could get one.

A cloud of dread loomed over you as you checked yourself in the mirror. Bags under your eyes more defined from the lack of sleep. Putting on makeup for the first time in a while. Giving yourself a moment to close your eyes and breathe before stepping out the door to head to work.

The invariable hospital greeted you as always. Unforgiving and not allowing time to suffer. It was your job to help others not suffer, a fine distraction from any personal matters.

Forcing smiles at each colleague you passed. Hiding any sign of distress. Taking the stares, avoiding any risk of running into House. Making sure you would do everything to stay away from him today. Knowing you could not face him now. Any semblance of control you had would come crashing down the minute you would meet his sad eyes.

Marching into Cuddy’s office as quickly as you could. Surprising her. You were always an adequate doctor. Rule follower and no trouble, unlike your estranged lover.

“Y/L/N?”

“I need to talk to you,” you sighed, hand reaching inside your lab coat. Pulling out the letter that had been extended to you earlier this week. Handing it to her with a certain sadness behind your eyes. Swallowing down your broken voice.

“What is this?”

“My invitation from Boston Children’s Hospital. They sent a representative to speak to me earlier this week. Inviting me to join their team and become the head of their Neurology department,” you breathed out.

“That’s incredible,” Cuddy said with a smile, “That’s— wow, that’s your dream job.” You and Cuddy were never overtly close. But she was someone you confided in. Another woman who could understand you differently than your male friends. Sharing secrets with her that seemed too childish to share with others. And so, out of respect for her and the hospital, you thought it was better to present this to her instead of just disappearing as you usually would. Finally taking responsibility for that.

“Yeah, it is,” you smiled, frown tugging you down.

“It’s going to be hard to fill the position. No one has ever been a stronger candidate,” Cuddy smiled. Sensing the solemn nature of your resignation. Unable to look her in the eyes as you stared down at your feet.

“I’ve got an idea,” Cuddy started, voice steady as she smiled at you.

Finally earning herself a glance from your sad eyes.

“How about you go to the conference they’re hosting. And if you decide that Boston is what you want, you go there. But, if it doesn’t end up being what you want, I will keep the position open for you here,” Cuddy stood with hands flattened against her desk to prove her point.

“Lisa, I can’t ask you to do that,” you sighed, not wanting special treatment or pity.

“I want to. We would be taking a serious blow in our neurology department without you here. But I’ll be happy for you either way,” she circled, coming to stand directly in front of you. Hand resting against your arm trying to console you. Unspoken realization that things must not have went over well when you told your former partner. Cuddy knew House well, seeing a serious change in him since the two of you started seeing each other. She pretended to not notice the brand new ring on your finger. Beautifully twinkling from the sunlight that beamed through her blinds. Able to put all the pieces together of the circumstances in which you brought this to her.

House had came to here earlier this month. Asking some vague questions about the legality of marrying a fellow doctor in the hospital. Pretending he had no ulterior motive, throwing blame on Wilson. He just ‘wanted to make sure no one needed to resign if that was to happen’. She had rolled her eyes knowing exactly what he was meaning. Congratulating him. House had grumbled and scoffed as he waved her off. Exiting her office with the veins on his head pulsing.

Cuddy suddenly hugged you. Firm. Hand on the back of your head as she sighed. You needed this more than she could have imagined. Stomach flipping with your overwhelming emotions. Tears deciding to wade in your eyes again. Sniffling as she pulled away, awkwardly laughing as you looked at her. Exhaustion clear on your breath. “Thank you, Lisa,” you met her eyes.

“It’ll all work out, Y/N,” she reassured. A good friend. Knowing how to console you when necessary. You were thankful for her.

Continuing your day as if nothing was wrong. You were a Doctor for gods sake. Analyzing scan after scan. Brains and spines of all varieties. From newborns to elderly. Pediatrics was your speciality, but that did not stop you from helping people of all ages. Giving some harsher diagnosis than you wanted today, having to control your breathing as to not show weakness to the family. You had to be strong. You were the one who was going to help them. Life of their sickly child now in your hands.

Unsure where the entire had gone off to. Darkness crept across your walls. Simply, amber glow of your lamp was all you had. Having locked yourself away from any other physicians all day. Needing to clear your head and focus on work.

Frustrated when a gentle knock sounded from your door. Teeth gritted as you called out, “Come in.”

Wilson’s frame shadowed in front of the hallway lights. Causing you to stiffen your posture and fold your hands over your lap. Lip quivering as you attempted to catch your breath. Not expecting to see your alienated lover’s best friend. Sometimes you forgot he was your friend too.

Burnt coffee eyes lasered into you. Entering and closing the door behind him. Trying to conjure up a starting sentence. Subject sensitive. More so than you normally discussed. He exhaled loudly.

“Did you come to gloat?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Waterworks immediately flowed. Breath forcing itself out in broken rhythm. Mouth immediately stretching into a frown, followed by a loud sob. Hand cupping your mouth as you squinted your eyes closed. Fingers digging into your cheek. Shoulders heaving with every strangled sob.

Wilson moved on instinct. Kneeling beside you at your desk. One hand on your thigh and the other pushing your hair out of your face. Empathetic eyes scanned you, wishing he could have avoided all of this. Wishing he could have prevented this heartbreak for you. You were his friend. It hurt him to see you hurt.

He pushed himself up to hold you. Head resting against yours. Allowing you to expel every cry, whimper, or sob into his chest. Your body was shaking. Hands bawling his shirt in front of you. Wrinkling the soft blue cotton. Staining it with smudged mascara and lipstick.

“It hurts, James,” you cried pathetically. Clutching him to you.

“I know. I know, honey. I’m… so sorry,” Wilson repeated. He was bad at this. At consoling you. Intimacy something he was only good at faking with women he was going to sleep with. Good at pleasing others. But how could he please you right now? There was no real cure for a broken heart.

This would have to be good enough.

And it was. All you needed was someone to hold you. Understand you. Sympathize with you. Wilson’s warmth encapsulated you. Emptying every drop of pain into him.

“I love him,” you whispered, breathing flattening out. Letting up on your grip on your close friend. Resting your head in the crook of his neck against his shoulder. Nose framing his throat. Warm tears dropping along his collar.

Wilson tenderly kissed your head. There was only so much he could do for you, but he would be damned if he did not try. Despite you ignoring his warning. Despite all the times you had grown angry at him. Despite that you had been spending more time away from him. You were one of his best friends. He would do this for you if this is what would help.

You remained in his arms for quite some time. Letting it all out. The only way you knew how. Thanking Wilson for everything.

Parting ways with the unforgiving walls of the hospital. Being welcomed home by a quiet room. Previously alive with duets and coordinated dance routines, now dull and rhythmless. The mixture of your lives haunted every surface. Candy he had left on the counter, discarded clothes that assumed he would come back for them, his toothbrush contained next to yours. Worst of all, the indent in your bed from his body. Now cold and hollow. Pillow still smelling like his shampoo.

Nausea now a convivial partner. Not having the strength to force yourself out of bed. Porcelain bowl’s siren call a temptress. Small amount of food digested in your stomach preparing for their reunion.

It was not worth it.

~~~

Another two weeks passed. Conference in Boston narrowing in on your calendar. Bags already packed and laid beside your bed. Coming to terms with the real possibility of a new beginning.

Somehow, still avoiding House. Knowing he was doing the same. Opting for other neurologists to run tests for him. Anything to not lay eyes on you.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Metallic taste overwhelming your buds as you dissected the folder before you. Stumped. Normally, you would ask House and his Team.

Your ego refused to face him.

But that did not mean you could not use the diagnostic team.

You parted your blinds into the busy hallway with two fingers. Only your eyes visible from the outside. Scanning the bodies that filled the hall. Waiting to pounce on the first one of House’s little minions that you spotted.

Bingo.

Creaking your door open. “Psst—“ you called out to the young doctor. His eyes peering to the side, acting like he did not see you. Trying to assess the situation, assuming the query was not directed at him. “Doctor Foreman,” you said with a whisper tone, albeit above a whisper. He looked around confused. Pointing to himself with a raise of a brow. You nodded, gesturing him to come to you.

Foreman shook his head in disagreement, motioning towards the folder already in his hand. You stomped your foot and pointed directly in front of you. Brows arching to silently show how serious you were. Sighing loudly as he solemnly walked over to you.

“You know, this got guy’s killed in war-times. Talking to the enemy,” Foreman smirked, leaning against your doorway.

You clasped your hands together in front of your chest, pointing your conjoined fingers at him, “I need you to do me a favor.”

His arms bulged as he crossed them over his chest. Sass dripping clean off him as his head fell to the side. Sucking his teeth as he looked around to make sure there were no cane wielding doctors nearby.

Reaching into your coat pocket and pulling out the case file, “I need you to take this patient folder. Take it to your team and see if you guys can figure out what’s going on. I’ve ran every test under the sun and can’t understand what I’m seeing. BUT— and this is the important part— you canNOT under ANY circumstances tell House this is for me.”

Foreman clicked his tongue. Rolling his eyes. Widening yours and wringing your hands in front of him, “Please.”

He blew his breath out, allowing his head to fall forward. Fully aware of the drama going on between the two of you. How could he not be? House brought it up at every turn. Angrier than he ever had been before. Extending his hand out to accept your offering. You beamed with glee.

“Just so you know,” he pointed with the filing folder, “This is petty.”

“Thank you, Foreman!” You waved him off. Earning a flick of his wrist in response. Finally feeling a sense of relief that you would possibly get an answer. Retreating into your cave. It would take them some time to run through every possibility. So now you could begin the new stack that had collected throughout the day.

It was easy to lose track of time when you were buried in paperwork. Only having time to eat lunch in Cuddy’s office with her. Suggested that you and some of the other doctors go out for drinks tonight. It was only a week until you would be leaving for Boston, so she wanted to treat you. Happy to oblige, anything for you to not be alone.

Staying late, something that happened more often than not. Telling Cuddy to come get you when she was ready to head out. Back to the door as you knelt in front of a filing cabinet. Fingers lacing through every filing folder looking for an older case file. One you hoped would help explain your current one.

Quick knocks against the wood of your door caught your attention. Assuming it was Lisa, not paying attention as you called out, “I’ll be right out.” Zoning out the sound of, what you assumed to be shoes, clicking against your floor.

Abrupt slamming of a hand on your desk made you jump up. Rising above your place on the floor and meeting angry, blue eyes. Air hitching itself in your throat. Heart immediately ramming into your ribcage.

“Next time you want to send me some absurd patient, call me yourself. Don’t rope my team into your dirty work,” House bared his teeth at you.

The first time you had seen him since your fight. Time freezing for you. Taking in every small detail of him. Scruff closer resembling a beard more than ever before. Neglecting trimming the prickly hairs. Something you had began doing together. Bags under his eyes heavier, bloodshot sclera matching your own. Cheeks sunken in and thinner. Not noticeable to the average eye, but when you had him memorized as well as you did it was obvious. Shirt half unbuttoned and wrinkled.

You stared slack-jawed. Fighting the delusion that this was fake. An illusion made up to comfort you. Eyes growing glossy. He was within touching distance. You wanted to spring up and wrap him in your arms. Kiss him and tell him how much you missed him.

“Close your mouth. You’re going to catch a fly,” House scoffed. Eyes rolling aggressively.

Your brows furrowed. Being reminded why this would have never worked to begin with. Jolting away from his piercing eyes. Jaw flexing as you swallowed the lump in your throat. Eyes drying out.

Taking the folder he had tossed haphazardly on your desk, “Did you figure anything out?”

“Of course I did,” his face scrunched up, offended. Angry that you would even ask such a stupid question. Mocking his intelligence in such a way.

You widened your eyes and nodded, “Okay…?”

“It’s MS,” he groaned like you were stupid for not knowing.

“No,” you shook your head in disagreement, “I tested for that. The lesions are from a prior head injury. He said all this pain started when he got hit the other day playing soccer.”

House nodded, “Uh-huh. That doesn’t explain the small white spot right at the base of his skull. His white blood cell count is through the roof. Persistent tingling sensation down the left side of his body. Black spot obscuring his vision, but no signs of corneal damage. It’s practically screaming ‘multiple sclerosis!’ at you.” House’s tone was riddled with condescension. Matter-of-factly correcting your misdiagnosis.

“Right,” you exhaled, trailing off. Frustrated that you had not put the pieces together yourself. Knowing this boy would have to go through some serious trial work for the next few months before he could even start treatment. All signs pointed to multiple sclerosis, but the MRI had you questioning everything.

“If you wanted to talk to me, you didn’t have to pretend to not know what was wrong with your patient,” House said cockily.

Igniting a fire in you. The implication making your blood run molten. Eyes narrowing in on him from above the folder. Mouth upturned like he had won a fight. Making you more angry.

Slamming the folder down on your desk, “You honestly think I’m so desperate that I would allow myself to look stupid just so you would come up here and yell at me?” Voice laced with a thick, deadly venom. Hissing through your teeth with each word.

House nonchalantly shrugged, “Whatever tickles your fancy.”

You growled, speaking through your teeth, “I can’t stand you.”

“Right… Is that why you’re still wearing that? Little reminder of how much you hate me?” House motioned towards your left hand.

The ring.

It had become second nature to just slip it on every morning. Eyes widening down at your digits. Pretending it did not hurt your feelings. Tears pricking against the corners of your eyes. Stunned into silence with his audacity.

“I… uh—“ you tried, really you did. But the way your throat burned and tightened you knew that if you continued you would be a crying mess in front of him.

Your eyes welled up at his. Pleading for him to back down. Begging for even an ounce of forgiveness, sympathy, something. Hands lacing together in front of you. Fidgeting with the ring that you hid under your right hand. Cheeks flooding with your embarrassment. Inability to come up with something to say making you seem weak. Your head hung in defeat.

House took the seat in front of your desk. Cane resting against the arm of it, feet propping themselves up. Far too casual for your liking. As if he had not ripped your heart clean from your chest and taken a bite.

“Boston next week,” unconcerned tone, faking excitement. Pretending that was not the entire reason things were this tense between you. Boston had been the wedge forced between you. Eyes harshly staring at you, “Must be exciting.”

You shrugged your shoulders. Hand rubbing up and down your arm. Trying to will yourself to look at him. Knowing you could not. Surprised he had kept up with what was going on with you. Completely opposite of what you had been doing. Maybe Wilson talked to him. Maybe he asked. It did not matter.

“Oh, don’t be coy,” House poked. His insistent need to pretend like everything was fine between you had anger swirling around your stomach. Falling back into habits that predated your relationship. Forgetting, more like ignoring, how much things had changed between you. Almost like you were just a coworker he found attractive, not that you had seen the most vulnerable parts of one another.

“House. Why are you here?” your eyes finally met his. Brows pinched together and teeth locked. Nostrils flaring with each steady breath you took.

“I brought your patient folder back. And a diagnosis,” House said.

“Greg.”

That made him sit up. Hands clasped in front of him, lips pursed together. Expression falling flat. Mischief behind his eyes fading quickly. Blowing his breath out loudly.

“You didn’t even call,” your words broke.

“Neither did you,” House sneered.

“You wouldn’t have answered if I did,” you defended.

A beat of silence.

“I know,” House huffed, “But I wanted you to.”

His words were desperate. Hiding the sadness that had overtaken him the past weeks. It was easy for him to suppress his emotions. Anger easier to live with than heartbreak. The night he forced you out had broken him. Wrecking his apartment beyond comprehension. Taking way more Vicodin than necessary just so he did not have to feel anything. Shattering all the picture frames along his tabletops. Cutting his hand deeply with one of the shards. Wincing, reminding himself he was alive.

That only made things worse.

Downing bottle after bottle of liquor. Not caring about the taste, but about how it made him numb. Your laughter and smile haunted his mind. Your hooks were so deeply rooted in him that there was no ripping them out. Wobbling into his bedroom where your discarded clothes littered the floor. Drunken rage causing him to shove the garments down his toilet, attempting to flush them. Only overflowing into the floor. Enraging him further. Beating his cane against the porcelain throne. Not realizing tears were burning down his face.

Shouting into the void of his bedroom. Pain coursing through his leg as he finally flopped onto his mattress. Your pillow beside his own. Sweet smell of you still embedded in his sheets. Fingers digging into the bedding as he ripped the fabric. Banging his head repetitively into the foam pillow.

“FUCKING BOSTON!”

He flipped onto his back. Hands grasping his face as he groaned. Instinctively extending his hand out to your side of the bed. Begging that you would be right there next to him and it would all have been a terrible dream. Cold and empty. Nails digging into the sheets once more. Breath coming out broken and strained as it all really hit him.

As always. House had ran off what he cared for most. Incapable of loving and caring. He was a disease. Infecting and ruining everyone who got close. And he had no desire to get better.

Not anymore.

Pitiful eyes looked into each other. Still grieving what could have been between you. Neither of you ready to let go.

Forced to break away when your door flew open. Cuddy’s smiling face quickly falling into shock. Not believing that the two of you were in the same room.

“Oh God. I’m so sorry! I’ll just go—“

“No, it’s okay. I’m coming,” you dismissed her. Clicking of heels exiting your office quicker than they had entered. Sighing remembering the commitment you had made to go out tonight. As sad as it was, you would rather be stuck in here with House than out with everyone.

Eyes falling back on House. Eyes telling you he had something he wanted to say to you. Swallowing before he quickly stood up. Looking at you with the biggest and saddest eyes you had ever seen. You walked around the desk, closing the distance between you. Closer than you had been all night. Within reach of perfectly falling back in together.

Every fiber of your being begged to tell him how much you missed him. How your life felt incomplete without him. That you had not slept the same without him there with you. Tell him that you loved him more than anything.

“Bye, Greg,” you mumbled, hand reaching out to pat his shoulder but stopping.

This time you were the one holding the gun. Aimed between his eyes, repositioning to his chest. Blowing him back. What remained exploding through the other side.

Walking past him and out your office. Leaving without saying what you really wanted. His silence ripped through your skin like barbed wire. Having to put on a fake smile when you met Cuddy in the hallway.

“Well?” Cuddy asked.

“He was… bringing me a patient’s diagnosis,” you lied.

“It’s good that you guys are speaking again,” she tried to cheer you up.

“Right,” you thought about it. About him.

In another week, he would be the farthest thing from your mind. All of this would be.

~~~

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Questioning everything. Suitcase tucked at your side preparing to catch your flight after work. Begin your new chapter. Conference your starting point before any final decision was made.

Today was the day.

Nerves had you flexing your hands at your sides. Stomach in knots of excitement. But also dread. Same black void that had consumed you prior, making itself known as it pinched and twisted your guts.

Tomorrow was a new day.

That kept you going. Able to calm down before heading to work for what could very possibly be the last time. The walls you had known better than those of your own home welcome you back. Surgical smell filling your senses. Taking the elevator all alone. Numbers clicking by as memories of the years of your life did. The first time you had ever taken this elevator feeling so long ago.

Towards the final year of your residency. Out performing the other promising neurologists, being transferred to the hospital where you would more than likely be hired. This very hospital.

Chaos ensued from the moment the doors opened. Patients coding in the halls, overflowed beds, and doctors yelling at each other. Your supervisor, a doctor who had long since retired from the position, told you to keep your head on straight. Try your hardest to ignore all the commotion and keep closing behind him. Helping run MRIs and watching brain surgeries. Feeling over your head in the fast paced environment.

You had finally gotten a moment’s peace as you paced around the hallway in front of a patients room. Having just delivered some devastating news to a family. The father was brain dead. There was nothing more you could do for him. It was their choice to leave him on life support or pull the plug, but the way you presented it to them was crucial.

You squatted against the wall, hand cupping over your mouth and pinching your nose. Clicking against the floor echoed through the hallway. The blunt end of a cane nudged at you, assuming it was an elderly patient. Surprised when you looked up to see a doctor.

“Not supposed to grovel where patients can see you,” his brash voice urged you.

“Sorry,” you said, standing and regaining composure. Leaning against the cold wall and examining the man before you. His large, early morning sky-like eyes doing the same to you. Curiosity getting the better of you both.

“So, what’s your—“

“Yes, I am a doctor. And yes I need a cane. Let’s get those stupid questions out of the way,” he said with a loud scoff.

“I was going to ask what your specialty was,” you awkwardly smiled.

His mouth morphed into an ‘O’. Teeth clinking together as he realized how harsh he had been. “Diagnostician. Specializing in Nephrology and Infectious Diseases.” Bragging clear on his tone. He was older than you, not by much. Enough to already have experience in the hospital that you could not begin to imagine. “I’m House,” he introduced himself with his hand splayed across his own chest. Not offering you his hand for pleasantries.

You nodded with tight lips. Unsure of what his motive was here.

House exhaled, “You’re new.”

“I’m Dr. Y/L/N. Finishing out my residency here. I’m a Neurologist. Interested in the pediatric part neurology mostly, but I love any brain,” you smiled. Youth still beaming on your cheeks.

“Fresh meat. Wilson is gonna love you,” he, who you now knew as House, smirked at you. Eyes checking out your whole figure. This was the first eye roll you gave him ever.

“That your wife or something?”

House chuckled, “More like boy-toy with benefits.”

House could see the shock on your face. Eyes windowing into how fast your brain processed the information. Of course you had assumed he was hitting on you, surprised that he was batting for the other team.

“I’m kidding. He’s an Oncologist here,” House deadpanned. Your hand slid down your face. Already annoyed by him. Face contorting as you tried to read him. He was like a page freshly typed that had water spilt on it. Unable to be properly interpreted. He was challenging you. Seeing how you handled his humor and behavior.

“For Christ’s sake. You young people and not being able to take a joke,” he generalized with a wave of his hand.

You squinted at him. Really taking the time to try and understand him. “You’re kinda an asshole, aren’t you?”

House’s brows sprung up his forehead. Laughing from how shocked he was at your assumption. Pointing to himself as he spoke, “That’s rather forward of you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. So is your eyes all over my breasts, but you don’t see me getting offended,” you shrugged, gesturing towards your chest with two hands. House’s brow knitted together as he tried to fight off the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. My God, he had met his match.

House clicked his tongue as he leaned forward with both hands on his cane. Eyes narrowing in on you. How your hand sat on your hip with confidence only people like him possessed. “Arrogance isn’t pretty on you,” House dared insult.

“Ooo, what else?” You mocked, agging him along.

House’s tongue glazed over his teeth, air puffing out of his nose with what could have been a laugh.

“Do you think your boyfriend will find it pretty?” You tilted your head with your question, trying your hardest to rile him up. Fluttering your lashes sensually at him.

House backed off. Smiling widely with his teeth, "Come down to the cafeteria with me."

You glared at him. One of many times where he would make you smile. His charm worked on you, and you liked it. You liked him. You always had. Even with the insults. The belittlement. His misogynistic way of complimenting you. It all made him House.

And you loved that.

Doors to the elevator opened. Forcing you out of the fond memory. Into a reality that you were much not caring for. Wishing you could grab your old self and shake her out of the infatuated haze. Warn her of how severe of a heartache she would experience at the hands of the diagnostician.

Ghosting down the mostly vacant hallway. Strange compared to your memory. Opening the door to your office. Safe space for you amongst the uncertainties. Appreciating it now more than ever. Giving you so many good stories and bad. Cases that ranged from tragedy to triumphant news. You had packed most of it up the days leading up to your departure. Preparing to leave this all behind.

Surprised to see a small box with an envelope underneath it on your desk. Beautiful red ribbon wrapped into a bow on top. You smiled. Assuming it had to be from Wilson or Cuddy. Now your only two friends. Ripping open the envelope and pulling out the piece of notebook paper. Small, with messy handwriting on it.

"Congratulations. I hope Boston is good to you. I love you."

Was all it said. Cracking open the box to find the prettiest necklace you had ever laid your eyes on. Holding up a dew-drop shaped gem. Shimmering from the office lights. Finding yourself gawking at the expensive chain that encapsulated it. Dainty and perfect to wear casually. Resembling one you liked from an older movie.

No name was attached anywhere to the gift. Striking you as strange, but you had a lot to get done before your flight. So you chose to ignore it. Going on about things like any normal day. Assuring your patients that they would be properly cared for in your absence. Catching up with Cuddy in time to grab a quick bite to eat together.

"Pretty necklace. Who got you that?"

Your brows upturned, "I... don't know. I thought it had to be you or Wilson. Guess it's the latter."

"Hmm," she sounded unsure.

You would have to thank Wilson before you left.

The day flew by. Wilson sat in your office. Insisting on driving you to the airport. Despite how hard you objected, it was 'his job as your friend' to see you off. He held your suitcase, waiting for you to finally be ready to leave.

"Come on, you Bostonian! We've got to get you to the airport," Wilson said in a sing-song voice.

You stared out the window. Sunset always beautiful from here. You fiddled with your thumbs. Weighing it all in your mind. Envisioning a new life for yourself in Boston. Unfamiliar and incomplete faces. Only able to put some shitty-over the top Boston accent with them, like the ones they would do on Saturday Night Live. No matter how perfectly you imagined them, they would never live up to the friends you made here. Even in your fantasy, where you tried to picture a future with a husband and children.

It was House.

Every time. Wearing a nice black suit and a bright colored tie as you locked arms with him, stunning white dress flowing down your figure. Flower peddles fluttering around your heads as your closest friends all cheered you on. His hands would grasp your face as he kissed you. That lovesick expression of his warming your heart. He would kiss you goodnight and tuck himself in beside you. Imagining trying to pretend you were both still asleep when little pitter-patters of footsteps would enclose on your bedroom door. His finger would push against his lips to shush you. Knowing the minute your sweet child would call out to you, both of you would fold. Inviting them into the warmth with you. And he loved you. Really loved you.

Wilson's hand on your shoulder brought you back. Looking over and meeting his dark eyes. Forcing a smile with an exhale. "You're gonna be late," Wilson chided. You shook your head, closing the blinds and circling your desk.

"I meant to thank you," you said as you put your coat on.

"For?"

"The necklace," your fingers outlined the metal.

"I didn't get you a necklace," Wilson responded, confused.

Skin pinching together between your eyebrows. Holding the pedant a little tighter than before. Not understanding who could have dropped this off in your office. Brain refusing to connect the obvious dots.

"Hmp," you mumbled. A thoughtful gesture accompanied by an even kinder note. Fighting your body's urge to sprint down to your suspect's office. It would only make your decision harder. Make everything complicated. You could not do that. Not when you were this close to your escape.

You and Wilson turned the lights off in your office and headed for the elevator. Opting out of your usual shared stair walk, seeing as you were having to carry luggage. Doors opening to the lobby. Cold from the constant opening of doors. A soft shiver went down your spine.

"Alright," Wilson said as you headed for the door, "Forgetting anything?"

That question made you freeze. Looking down at your finger. The same band and gem glistening. You were forgetting something. Completely leaving it behind. Tears finding their place along your waterline again. Closing your eyes and clinching your fist.

Why could he not come tell you goodbye? Why did he not even try to get you to stay? He never was a beggar, but maybe this once he could have been. Just to get you back.

That fucking bastard.

"No," you said softly.

Walking out into the now dark exterior. Cloudy sky blocking any natural lighting. Only the bright neon of your home. Soon to be a memory replaced by a new one.

"I'm going to go get the car," Wilson pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. Leaving you alone with your bags. Allowing your demeanor to change once your friend was out of site. Shoulders slumping, head falling in exhaustion. Having to fake excitement and joy for your new beginnings all day. None of this went how you wanted. Change was always so hard on you. But was it not on everyone?

"Y/N," a voice called out to you from the entry doors of the hospital. Turning to meet him. Your name from his tongue almost sounding fake. Wrong. Speedily, he walked over to you. Cane echoing against the silent courtyard.

Heart overflowing in your chest when you could finally make a clear image of his face. Agitated lines etched into his face. Misty eyes imploring you to delve headfirst into them. Teeth locked together while heavy breaths filled his lungs.

"I'm selfish. And cynical. And rude. An-And all around, I'm not a good guy," House presented to you. Words only angering you further. Arms crossing over your chest as you popped a hip out. Head falling to the side as you examined him.

"House—"

"Just," he abruptly cut you off, "Listen to me. Every bad thing you think of me is true. And I have done nothing to make you think anything different in the last month. My leg hurts if I think about you too long. Throbs beyond any pill's cure. Because it needs you. I need you. Even if you don't need me."

You stared blankly at him. Unyielding guard around you after one too many disappointments. Cold and distant as you looked at him. Unsure how any of this was supposed to sway you.

"But you've still got that ring on. And that has to mean something," House gestured, like it took everything in him to finally get to the point. Fist clinching at your side, thumb rubbing over the band. A crack in your shield. One he could weasel his way into. Under your skin and back into your heart.

Your eyes welled up. Blank expression falling into a sob. Palms cupping your face as your shoulders quivered. "Why couldn't you have came by earlier? Brought me the necklace yourself. Said what you wrote to my face," voice defeated and broken.

His hand reached out to you, "Y/N—"

"Don't touch me! You don't get to do this to me," finally allowing the damn of hatred to burst. "Do nothing but avoid and belittle me to the entire hospital for a month. Just at the idea of me leaving. Look where that got us! You are nothing more than a self-sabotaging man-child. I am not going to continue to cater to your fantasy anymore, House. I can't do this with you for the rest of my life," you shouted as your arms straightened at your sides.

House's posture straightened. Apologetic orbs falling hooded as they looked at you. Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he silently swallowed. Fighting back the choke that tickled the back of his pallet. Nostrils flailing as he repressed any sadness that dared gather around his eyes.

You quickly removed the ring from your finger. Pinching it between two fingers as you held it out to him. Hands and breathing shaky. Hot tears burned down your cheeks. Lip quivering as you shook it in his face, "Take it. It's not mine anymore."

House refused to move. A singular stream of tears dripping from his eyes. Lips sealed as he shook his head. Vein on his forehead bulging as his eyes grew bloodshot. His lip barely pouting out like a child who had just been scolded.

"It's yours," House's voice was not above a whisper. Crestfallen publicly for one of the first times. Refuting any claims you had about the ring not being yours. He had it specialty made for you. Your initials were engraved on the band. His directly next to it. The gem he had chosen to match the month you fell in love. Every aspect was you. Meant for you in every way possible.

You aggressively grabbed his wrist, prying his fingers open and placing it in his hand. Closing the digits over it. Nails digging into his skin momentarily. “All this is is a reminder. Of this place. Of what I’m leaving behind. Of… you. I can’t take this with me,” you heaved.

The first time you had touched him in over a month.

Exuding nothing but hatred towards him.

He had really messed things up with you. And how could he blame you for being angry?

"You can't even tell me you love me when I'm about to literally fly away from you," you growled, drowned by tears.

"I do."

"Then say it, Greg!"

Daunting silence.

Your eyes burned as you squinted at him. Saddened by his lack of devotion. You could be down on your hands and knees. It would not change this.

Sound of the car door closing behind you made you look over your shoulder. Wilson’s eyes stared at you across the short distance. Assessing what was happening between the two of you. Deciding to not insert himself, packing your bags into the trunk of his car.

“I’m leaving,” you said shortly. He was the love of your life. A regret you would have for the rest of your life. There was no world where you did not need him. Your missing piece, but you could not live like this. And this was the only way he knew how to live.

Dying for a last ditch effort from him.

Anything.

You walked away for the final time. Sniffling back your tears. Meeting Wilson who had the passenger door open for you. Taking your seat in your friend’s car. Looking out the window to see House standing there pathetically. His hand raised in a final goodbye wave. What felt like miles away.

Wilson glared as he circled around to his side of the car. Taking his place behind the wheel. Looking at your now puffy cheeks. Admiring that even at what he imagined was your lowest, you still tried to compose yourself. Looking over and smiling at him.

“Alright, taxi driver. I’ve got a flight to catch,” you chuckled.

A mostly silent ride accompanied you. Pulling to a stop in front of the large glass doors. Families reuniting and departing. People holding signs. People having clearly heated phone calls. A place laced with every emotion you could experience. It was beautiful.

“Okay! I’ll help you get your bags out, but car’s gotta keep running. They get pissed if you park here for too long,” Wilson joked.

“Thank you, James,” you exhaled. Smiling at your comrade. Unpacking and sitting it all on the concrete curb. Standing with his hands on his hips in front of you.

You pulled him into a deep hug. He was the best friend you had. Wilson’s hand patted your back, squeezing you tightly.

“I’ll come visit,” Wilson said softly. He had been acting tough through all of this for you. Faking being unbothered by the fact you were abandoning him. Through thick and thin, he had you. This was going to be hard on him.

You pulled away with tears staining your face again. Becoming like second nature to you as of late. Smiling widely at him. “I love you, James. I can’t stop thanking you for everything,” you admitted.

“Love you too,” he said with melancholy.

Waving goodbye as you rushed into the airport. Wheels of your suitcase bumping against the ground with each step. You should have fixed the wheel before traveling, but you had more important things on your mind. Long process getting through everything and finding your terminal. Taking your seat against a window. Glow of the runway illuminating through the tiny glass. Putting headphones on to drown out all the rattling and bangs of takeoff.

To Boston.

~~~

The weekend conference had flown by. Attending lectures with doctors you never knew you would share a room with. Never thinking this level of success was within reach for you.

And maybe it was not.

Everyone who had been invited here was brilliant. Innovative and well-spoken. Beloved by all your fellow doctors. Inspiring the next generation. Things you were not sure you possessed. Finding yourself comparing to all those around you. Imposter syndrome wrapping you in its veil. Even when board members would recognize you and thank you for attending. Inviting you to each special lecture. Wanting you to feel accepted and honored, yet it only pushed you further away.

Separating yourself from who was supposed to become your new colleagues. Not clicking with any of them in a way that made you comfortable. Each field having their own clicks and groups. Not being welcomed in by any of them. Especially when they saw you speaking exclusively with board members.

It was all trivial.

You were here for work.

Yet something still buzzed in the back of your mind. Maybe this was not what you wanted.

Imaging yourself here no longer brought joy and comfort. Praying you would fall in love with Boston Children’s Hospital and its staff. Yet you had never felt more like an outsider in your own field.

But you had to want this. You had been so willing to leave everything else behind. Burning bridges beyond repair. Uprooting your life just for this opportunity.

Maybe it was not worth it.

You walked over a nearby bridge with another group of doctors. Finally being asked about yourself. What made you come to Boston? Oh, wow. That’s a serious change to make within a few weeks. What field were you in? Of course, they had an incredible neurologist heading the department before he up and left. No one was going to replace him in their hearts! Had they heard of any of your research before? Yeah, that sounds really important.

How could some strangers make you feel so small? When you had been built up so highly by the board? This was humiliating.

Parting ways with them in front of the hospital. Waving goodbye as they all laughed to some joke you did not overhear. Sighing and allowing yourself to shrink for a moment. Stepping in a circle as you stared up at the bright lights.

They promised you new beginnings. An out for a situation it had gotten you into. You had enjoyed exploring the halls. Seeing the smiling nurses and patients. All the advanced tech that lined their rooms. Incredibly impressed by how far ahead technologically they were. Funding was high here.

Still. You could only compare it to your home. No instant connection like you had with PPTH.

Maybe you could stay the same forever. Jumping headfirst at every chance of freedom. Fleeing whenever you felt that familiar itch in your bones. The only reason you had so swiftly made up your mind to begin with. There was a comfort in running. Escaping anytime you felt trapped. It was the final night of your trip. You needed to make your mind up and fast.

But. What if it was time to settle down? Warmth overtaking you when you thought of a mundane life. Early morning kisses. Breakfast in bed on the weekends. A baby cradled in your arms. Husband kissing you both on the head. It would not fulfill you anymore than your work had. Yet you found solace in the idea. It was a nice thought after all.

You turned your back to the building. Looking up at the night sky. Clearer than it was in Jersey. Stars still blurred from pollution. Yet they twinkled. Despite all the disgusting smog and reflection of lights.

Your back pocket vibrated. Fetching the small device out. The name illuminating the screen stunning you. Hesitating for only a split second before flipping it open and pressing it to your ear.

Unable to force any words out. Hearing him breathing on the other end causing your heart to flutter.

“Hi, Greg,” you exhaled, relief clear on your tone. Almost like you had been holding your breath without realizing. Surprised he even wanted to call you after how you had treated him last.

“How’s Boston?”

Straight to the point. Never one for pleasantries. Always brash and direct.

“It’s… good,” you lowly said. The words sounding fake as you said them. Propping your elbow in your hand to make holding the phone up more comfortable. Swaying side to side in an attempt to keep yourself warm against the cold breeze.

“Good…” he trailed off, repeating the word with the same conviction you did. Clearly having more to say, but holding his tongue.

“Feel like home?”

You laughed, “No. It never could.”

House chuckled in response. Your shared humor mellowing out into a comfortable silence. Feeling like it used to before this whole mess started.

“It’s nice… to hear your voice again,” you admitted, allowing any shame to roll off your body. Your love for him outweighing your anger. Missing him more than you ever would have led on. Especially this side of him.

“Yours too…” you could hear his smile with each word. “Think you’re gonna stay?”

You hummed. Uncertainty in your vocals. Lip scrunching up with your eye as you thought. Not wanting to lead him on about anything. Knowing few things could sway your mind.

“I don’t know,” you breathed. Eyes falling closed. Images in your mind blurring. Incapable of picturing yourself in Boston.

“Yeah…”

“I kinda miss Jersey. I miss… you guys,” you admitted. Hurting your ego, but it needed to be said.

“I miss you,” House said casually. Shooting an arrow through your heart. Pooping as it caused your blood to flow toward your cheeks. Smiling like it was the first time you had ever been complimented. Knowing he did not just mean from this weekend. He missed you. Every day with you. Distance you had over the last month causing him distress.

You sighed, “It’s not home.”

Those words solidifying the decision you had been teetering on. Voice not above a whisper when you heard more footsteps outside. Not wanting to sound ungrateful to any passersby. Clicking clueing you in that it could be a board member in her fancy shoes.

“Then come home,” deep, gentle words melted down your figure. Causing you to jump when they came from directly behind you. Turning to see him. Figure towering over his cane. Sophisticated hat atop his head. Wearing an overcoat and jeans. Familiar smile across his face.

Your phone dropped out of your hand as you rushed over to him. Tears flowing freely when you jumped into his arms. Knocking him off balance, but making sure you kept both of you standing. Your face tucking into his chest as half breaths escaped you. His large hand cupped the back of your head.

“It’s really you,” you exhaled. Leaning back to cup both sides of his face. Thumbs tracing along each worry line and scruffy hair. Grasping him tight as if some outside force would rip him away in an instant. Eyes wide and finally getting the life back in them.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, his own thumb wiping away your tears. Hooded eyes lovingly looked into yours. Head tilting slightly as he took in each feature. Waterline stained from how much you had cried. Somehow more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

“Greg, h-how? Why are you here?”

“You know Wilson and I will come up with any excuse for a roadtrip,” House smiled. Cocky grin overtaking his expression as his brows raised. Pulling a laugh from you. Tucking your face into his chest to hide how your face scrunched up. His heart flourished hearing you. Comforting sound that had became a distant memory. You softly shoved his shoulder with your hand.

Doeing your eyes up at him. Lashes wet with joy. Both of you breathing in tandem. Your hands flattened against his shoulders. His now cupped your face. Darting between each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” House said.

You mouthed words that did not escape. Brows upturning. Glossy eyes filled with sincerity. He meant it. Deep down, he always had.

“I love you too,” you admitted. Capturing you in a deep kiss. As if you had been lost at sea and he finally got his eyes on you. Desperate and filled with desire.

“You came all this way to tell me that?” you chuckled, your hand joining his on your cheek.

“What can I say? I’m a romantic,” House shrugged, lips pierced together. Earning a giggle from you. Body instinctively following his as he pulled away. Eyes saddening for a moment as you watched him drop his cane.

House began to take one knee before you. Kneejerk reaction to stop him. Hands waving frantically. Cringing when his face contorted in discomfort. Wincing under his breath as he shimmied through his coat pocket. Presenting your ring back to you. Pinched between shaking fingers. Yearning, ocean eyes gazing into yours.

“You deserve a proper proposal,” House muttered. “Y/N. I love you. More than I will ever be able to show you. I-I love you so much… it hurts. But I would do it all in pain, as long as it’s with you. I want you to be my wife,” House said with vicious valor. Meaning every single word. Pouring his heart out to you in the most vulnerable way possible. Regretting not doing this all sooner.

Your hands tented over your mouth. Nodding profusely. Reaching out to help him to his feet, trying to minimize the pain. Wincing again as he finally got footing, handing him his cane once more. Allowing him to put his weight on it.

He reached for your left hand, sliding the ring on your finger. Where it belonged. Designed and custom made for you. His love.

Lips connecting once more. He greeted you with a toothy grin when you pulled back. Reciprocating as you laced your fingers together.

A weight lifted off your shoulders. Encapsulating you with warmth and love. Acceptance that it was okay to be happy where you were. Not having to chase the next high. This was better than what any board member could offer you.

“Wilson should be parked up front,” House pointed. Guiding you to the place your best friend was located. Watching his figure do a double take from the inside of his car. Fumbling as he got out of the vehicle and met you and House halfway. Smiling widely at you both. Happy to see your face once more.

Wilson pulled you into a hug, hand never leaving House’s. Still too afraid of never feeling it in your own again. “When you said you would come visit I thought you meant in a few weeks, not two days,” you laughed. Poking fun at him.

Wilson’s hand rubbed the back of his neck. Chuckling with amusement, “I couldn’t resist a trip to bring you home.”

Overwhelmed with the love presented to you from them. Your found-family. The ones you loved and cared for most. Using their best efforts to bring you back to them. Cup overflowing with gratitude and appreciation.

“You are coming with us, right?” Wilson double-checked.

You nodded, “How could I not?”

House pulled you tighter against his side. Planting a kiss against your head. Engulfed by the smell of your shampoo. It was all the little things he missed.

“I just need to swing by the hotel and get my stuff. And we can go,” you giddily said, motioning a takeoff with your hands.

“Eager, aren’t you? I thought we’d catch another lecture or two. Heard Dr. Who-Knows-What is here, I’d love to hear her presentation,” House chided. Sense of humor never lost on him. Smiling with his teeth widely when you rolled your eyes at him.

There she was. His girl.

“I’ll give you the ‘for dummies’ version on the ride home,” you poked him in the side. Making him wriggle and exclaim an ‘OW!’ that would have gotten the attention of any strangers. You quickly forced your palm over his mouth to shut him up. A warm, wet tongue lapped at your palm. Causing you to shake your hand vigorously, “GROSS!”

“Ooh. You’re acting like my cock hasn’t been in your mouth,” House smirked. Your face flooded with heat immediately. Jaw slacking as he laughed.

Wilson scoffed. Unamused by both your childish antics. Not surprised with the casual way House spoke about your sex life. He had missed this.

“Okay, lovebirds. Let’s go,” Wilson motioned towards the parking lot with his whole body. Hurrying you both along.

Whipping your head to look at House, “Shotgun.”

You stuck your tongue out as you ran towards the car.

“Oh, come on now! That’s not fair—“ House whined, “Challenging a cripple to a foot race? You should be ashamed!”

“I’m not!” you quipped as you quickly opened the door.

House smiled. Wilson giving him a knowing glance over his shoulder. Laughing at House’s defeat. Joining you in the vehicle, House leaned between the two front seats.

“I was hoping you’d get in the back with me. I’ve got a welcome home present for you,” he wiggled his eyebrows and motioned towards his groin. Your hands hid your face from the embarrassment. Groaning loudly. A soft ‘Jesus’ coming from Wilson.

“You’re such a pervert!”

“And you love me,” House poked your cheek. You leaned to look back at him. Eyes full of love for you as he smiled. You blew a kiss at him.

The ride home was long. Filled with sing-a-longs and pointless discussions. House arguing about some tv show he was watching. Neither you are Wilson really disagreeing, but you knew he liked a good argument. Wilson would make fun of you when a new pop song would play and you knew the words. House’s fingers would rub your shoulders from the backseat, any excuse to touch you. Long digits playing with the necklace he had gifted you. Familiar tug of sleep wrapping around you, but you were too afraid. What if you woke up and this was all just a dream?

You shouted when you crossed back over the New Jersey line. Alarming your fellow riders. House reciprocating the shout simply to annoy Wilson. Everything suddenly becoming more familiar. You knew the way back and it felt like home.

“You guys just want to stay at my place tonight?” Wilson asked as you got closer to your destination. Your arm was bent backwards so that you and House could interlock fingers. Holding hands was one of his favorite things to do. Analyzing and learning your digits. They were just so you. Alive and beautiful.

“Awww. Missed me so bad you wanna hawve a sweepovwer?” you teased Wilson with a pucker of lips.

“You’re an ass,” Wilson groaned.

“Don’t talk to my lady that way!” House defended jokingly.

“I would love to stay with you tonight,” you yawned. Eyelids growing heavy. Nuzzling your face into the leather seat. Not admitting how much of a comfort it would be to have the two most important people in your life under the same roof as you for your first night home. Even if it was nearly 1 a.m. right now.

House kissed your hand. Resting his cheek against your conjoined appendages. Pulling onto the street beside Wilson’s home. Warm yellow glow from the inside inviting you in. House opened the door for you, offering your tired body a hand. Leading you to Wilson’s front door. And of course, he fumbled with the keys. Taking his time to unlock it. Your sleep being withheld from you a little longer.

Wilson pushed the door open to allow you inside first. Flabbergasted by the sight that greeted you. Balloons scattered across the floor, streamers hanging on every surface, and a ‘Welcome Home’ banner hung up perfectly in your line of sight. Eyes meeting Cuddy standing in the kitchen, hands clasped together as she bounced with excitement.

“Surprise!” she shouted and rushed over to you. Wrapping you in a tight hug.

“Hi, Lisa,” you exasperated.

“Thank God these two idiots didn’t come back empty handed. Probably would’ve given them both extra clinic duty,” she ragged, “I’m so happy you’re back.”

“You guys didn’t have to do all this for me,” you blushed. Looking over to House and Wilson. Both smiling and happy to see you doing the same.

“There’s some pizza in the oven and champagne in the refrigerator if you are up for celebrating,” Cuddy suggested.

You shook your head. Completely awestruck. Convinced you were completely replaceable in everyone’s heart, but you were sorely mistaken. You would never find such incredible colleagues— friends, as you had here. At home.

“Of course,” you admitted. Grinning from ear to ear.

The four of you celebrating for hours. Catching up from your short absence. Telling them all about Boston Children’s Hospital. All the incredible tech they had, and how large the hospital truly was. Food tasting incredible, not even thinking that you had forgotten dinner. Champagne buzzing against your cheeks. Wilson and Lisa were quick to pass out. Exhaustion hitting them like a bus. Asleep in the living room, so you decided to take Wilson’s guest room.

The room was dark. Light shining in from the partially opened blinds. Yellow hue of a street lamp illuminating your face as you stared at House. Laying on top of the comforter together. Hands flat in front of your faces. Taking the time to be alone together. Dancing your hand up his cheek, softly through his hair, and cupping his neck. Thumb tracing his jawline. Tickled by the pokey facial hair.

Sleep had its hooks in you. Blinks becoming slower. Covering your mouth when a yawn broke free. House chuckled, “You can sleep.”

“Noooo,” you whined, “I’m not even tired.”

His hand petted through your hair. Smiling at your denial. As much as he wanted you to stay awake and keep talking to him, he knew you had to be exhausted. Heavy lidded eyes barely peaking up at him as your lips parted with small breaths escaping.

House pressed a kiss into your forehead, “I will be here when you wake up.”

You reached out for his hand. Squeezing it between your own. Checking to make sure it was all real. That he was there and not a dream.

“I love you, Greg.”

“I love you too.”

~~~

[END/Final]

// Thank you so much for reading! This chapter ended up being quite a bit longer than I had originally planned, but I got everything in I wanted. I have truly fallen in love with this story and it is one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. To all of you who have kept up with it and supported me, I love you! If I could give you all a big hug and kiss I would. As always, requests are open. Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! //

{tags}

@houseslollipop ~ @megangovier ~ @iwmflbb ~ @yourgirlcarol ~ @needz1nk ~ @crimin4llyins4ne ~ @bitchy-bi-trash ~ @chaimshelii ~ @cailleachcola ~ @shutthefrickup ~ @dustie-faerie ~ @vincentnaj ~ @vlyrexsworld ~ @thefemininemystiquee ~ @amandarobertsboyce ~

#house md #gregory house #greg house #dr gregory house #dr house #dr house x reader #greg house x reader #hugh laurie #hugh laurie x reader #house md x reader #sexymonsterfics #fanfic #part 5 #update

216 notes · View notes