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Morning came too soon.
Wilson woke with a dry mouth and a dull ache behind his eyes â more from thoughts than from beer. Julie was already gone, her side of the bed cool. For a moment he stayed on his back, staring at the ceiling, Houseâs voice still running in his head: Think of it.
He pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes and tried to breathe it away. Maybe today heâd keep his distance. Maybe today heâd start to claw back some control. But even as he thought it, his thumb was hovering over his pager, tempted to check if sheâd text him overnight.
She didnât. And to make it even better, due to force majeure, he didnât catch even a glimpse of her in the hospital.
Unlike any other day, Wilson didnât want this one to end. First because ending meant driving back to the big, quiet house and thinking about things he didnât want to think about. Second because, once today ended, sheâd be gone for four days.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, he was already miserable â which was, of course, when House texted:
Come to my office.
âLook at this, Wilson!â House beamed as soon as the oncologist crossed the door.
Chase was perched behind the computer, clearly amused. âWhat is it?â Wilson asked, dryly.
âOh, somebodyâs grumpy because heâs being left alone. Bo-ho.â House smirked. âTell me, are you aware that young people keep in touch via social media?â
âIâm aware,â Wilson said slowly.
âGood. Then why on earth arenât you Facebook friends with Thumbelina?â
House swung the monitor around. Her Facebook page filled the screen â private, except for a profile picture Wilson knew by heart.
âHow do you even know that?â Wilson demanded.
âBecause Iâm logged into your account, you moron. See? Mutual friends: Chase, Cameron, Foreman, CuddyâŚâ House gave a mock-whistle. âAnd Nurse McAllen. Havenât seen her name in a while.â
A flicker of guilt knifed through Wilsonâs stomach. Thanks for the reminder.
âHonestly,â Chase added, grinning, âI thought maybe you were playing it cool. But you canât claim to be her friend when you havenât even added her.â
âI donât do much social media,â Wilson muttered. Only now did he realize how easily heâd handed House another weapon.
House reached for the mouse. âLetâs fix that. Itâll help you when youâre missing her on her day off.â
âDonâtââ
Too late. House clicked Add Friend.
Wilson stared at the screen as though it had detonated.
âYouâre welcome,â House said, tossing the mouse aside like a magician after a reveal. âNow sit back and wait for your dopamine hit.â
Chase was already chuckling under his breath, clearly entertained by the whole spectacle.
Wilsonâs jaw worked but no words came out. His mind raced with every possible fallout â what if she thought it was creepy? What if she thought he was needy? What if she told Cuddy?
âYouâre an ass,â he muttered finally, rubbing a hand over his face.
House only grinned wider. âDonât thank me now. Thank me when she posts her vacation pics in a bikini.â
âAnd trust me, even if she doesnât post anything new, it still has a bunch of good stuff you can stalk on.â Chase completed.
Wilson shot him a warning glare but it lacked heat. He grabbed his white coat and left before House could needle him further.
Out in the corridor, with the door swinging shut behind him, he slowed to a stop. The buzz of the hospital pressed around him but he didnât hear any of it â only the thud of his heart. His phone was already in his hand, thumb hovering over the screen.
Nothing yet. No notification.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and exhaled slowly. He had told himself he wanted distance. Yet here he was, hoping sheâd click accept.
The drive home was a blur of overthinking: wishing heâd seen her before she left, wishing theyâd had their coffee break, wishing House hadnât made a choice for him. And yet â Jesus â wishing sheâd be glad heâd sent it. Wishing he didnât have four days ahead of him feeling like this.
He pulled into the garage and sat there with the engine ticking down, forehead resting on the wheel. His fingers still gripped it tight when his phone buzzed.
You are now friends.
A ridiculous rush went through him, a grin breaking across his face before he could stop it. He felt like a teenager. She said yes.
Another buzz. A new message:
Iâm so sad I didnât get the chance to see you before I left :(
Also realized we never exchanged numbers. If you miss me too much, donât hesitate to text me ;)
He blinked at the screen. She gave me her number. On her own.
Wilson laughed softly, alone in the car, a shaky sound that was half relief, half disbelief. Maybe he could survive four days after all.
đŠş
She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, suitcase half-packed, clothes spilling over the edge. Sunblock, sandals, headphones â she ticked things off her list. The notification popped up mid-scroll through her pc screen: James Wilson has sent you a friend request.
She froze, thumb hovering over the mouse pad. For five months theyâd been in each otherâs pockets at work â coffee breaks, lunches, running jokes. Part of her had been tempted to add him herself before, but had worried it might look⌠off.
Five months. Whatâs the harm? she thought. Weâre already friends. Iâm not hitting on him.
She accepted. The little green checkmark blinked back at her.
For a moment she just sat there, staring at his name, debating. Then she started typing. She wanted him to know sheâd been thinking of him too.
Iâm so sad I didnât get the chance to see you before I left :(
Sad face? Was it childish? No, it was informal. She hesitated, reread, then hit send. After a pause, she decided to add her number. A little bold, yes. The med-student tossed the notebook closed onto the bed with a soft laugh.
âNot hitting on him,â she muttered to herself, snapping the suitcase shut. âJust being friendly.â
Still, her cheeks felt a little warmer than before.
đŠş
Wilson had spent more time than recommended on his phone. She had been texting him bits of her trip since he had the guts to make the first move and sent a massage saying âhelloâ (okay, maybe not the first move since sheâd handed him her number). He caught himself smiling at the screen in meetings, on hallway walks, even under the table during lunch with House or dinner with Julie.
The only thing he still didnât have the courage to do was open her Facebook page. Truth was, he was afraid of what heâd see.
Until Monday.
Inside Diagnostics, the male staff was already doing their own âresearch.â
âSo, have you seen the news today?â House asked once Wilson passed trough the glass door.
âMild weather for the rest of the week and Bush wonât back off on the war on terror,â the oncologist answered flatly.
âWell, mild for us, steaming hot for Florida,â House teased.
âAre you guys serious⌠ogling her photos?â James sighed.
âAre you not?â Chase shot back.
âHave you no respect for your colleague?â
âIn my defense, Iâm not ogling anyone,â Foreman raised his hands, circling the table toward the door. âBut she does have some pretty pictures. Let me know when you three finish your obsession.â
âIâm notâŚâ Wilson started, but Foreman was already gone. ââŚobsessing over anyone.â His words hung in the air.
House squinted. âOh, please. You doubled your screen time. Donât tell me youâre not texting about your days apart.â
âItâs called being friendly,â Wilson muttered, cheeks turning pink.
âUntil the texts become sexts and sexts become pictures more revealing than the ones Iâm seeing. Speaking of whichââ House leaned back, mock-philosophical. âFor evolutionary purposes, I strongly suggest you check her page.â
âAlright, enough. I am going to my office.â Wilson bolted through the hallways before House could needle him more.
A few hours and a couple of patients later, curiosity finally won. He logged in, hands almost trembling, eyes squeezed shut as the page loaded.
Once he opened it, he saw her face on a video. It wasnât from her briefly vacation. It dated a week ago and she had her practice outfit.
â5, 6, 7, 8âŚâ The person in the video counted. He watched as the man positioned behind her launched her skyward. How she did a back flip in the air before landing perfectly on the manâs hands.
Fucking hell.Â
He was concerned in the same amount he was impressed. The video lost its quality as the filmmaker began to shake from excitement, congratulating the athletes. His heart in his throat as she smiled at the camera, breathless. That was one hell of a cardiac stress test, he thought. If I can survive that, I can survive her vacation photos.
He clicked her name and was redirected to her profile.
Newsflash: he was not prepared.
The ocean behind her was crystalline, but he barely registered it. What caught him was the foreground: her.
Tanned skin that looked softer than he remembered. Wild curls, salt-lightened at the edges. A simple white bikini that made her look at once younger and infinitely more adult. His pulse jumped. His own back straightened as though bracing.
He double-clicked to the next photo.
Oh, God.Â
A group shot loaded: three girls on the sand, mid-pose, sunlight scattering across their shoulders. He almost missed her at first. His mind had always filled in blanks, imagining her as athletic, yes, but still the girl in scrubs, sneakers, hair pulled back. Short workout clothes? Yes. But hereâŚ
She was unmistakable: the shortest of the three, curls wild from the sea breeze, legs drawn into a springing jump, toes pointed like a ballerina, calves flexed. Every line of her body looked honed, coiled, alive.
For a heartbeat he couldnât even breathe. The bikini was in no way American cut. Unapologetic, a stark red against her tan skin. It wasnât trashy â it was powerful, confident, completely at odds with the modest but funny student heâd built in his mind.
Jesus.
The contrast hit him harder than any fantasy. All the vague outlines heâd drawn of her were gone. Here was the real thing, dazzling and unguarded
The next photo loaded.
If the second shot had been a jolt of electricity, this one was a punch straight to the sternum.
She was kneeling in the sand, body turned three-quarters toward the horizon, watching the sun drop toward the water. The low light wrapped around her like gold leaf, outlining every curve, catching in her hair so the curls glowed bronze and copper.
She wasnât smiling for the camera, wasnât posing â not really. She looked absorbed, thoughtful, distant. In that moment she wasnât the chatterbox med student, wasnât the girl in white-coat laughing at his jokes. She was⌠someone else. A grown up, private and unreachable.
Wilsonâs throat went dry. For the first time since heâd known her, he felt like an intruder. The image was beautiful and unguarded and it was not for him, yet here he was, staring.
He wished he could save the photo, memorize the way the fading light slid across her skin. He wished he could look away.
Then the blue bar popped up on the screen.
You and 127 others liked this photo.
Shit.
His heart stopped, hands jerking off the mouse as though it had burned him. How did this happen? He closed down the internet page, having a full blown panic attack.
Breath Wilson. Breath.
127 other people liked the photo. She wouldnât possibly notice his name, right?
And even if she did, it was completely normal, right? Friends liked each other's photos.
Or she would think that you are a creep.
đŠş
I don't have enough willpower to board the plain back tomorrow
Was the message that buzzed on Wilson's phone by lunch hour. The oncologist had created a new knot muscle stress-induced on his traps after the incident in the morning. Her text eased his nerves. Ok, she didn't block me. That means I am not a creep, right?
But what to write back?
You better get your ass back here, missy. Who do you think is covering your shifts?
He stared at it. Was that clever? He felt old. Worse, fake â like he was trying to script himself for an audience. How did you seem interesting to a younger woman by text? Friendly but not flirty, warm but not stiff.
Some sad-ass intern. Definitely not the head of oncology.
Her reply popped up before he could overthink it further, and he laughed out loud, startling a couple of nurses at the next table. His cheeks warmed under their stares.
Another buzz:
You donât need to make up excuses. I know youâre missing me.
He choked on his food. God, she was going to be the death of him. At least House was too buried in clinic duty today to watch him squirm.
He thumbed back:
Apparently Iâm disposable to you since youâre considering running away forever. Are the piĂąa coladas better than our coffees?
Her answer came quickly:
Never. Iâll be back tomorrow, professor. Try not to cry when you see me.
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Monday mornings were always hectic. Usually, Wilson had a line of patients waiting outside his office, only managing to get down to the clinic once heâd finished with them. But this morning, unusually, he had only three scheduled.
What shook his day, however, came from the glass-walled diagnostics room.
He had just stepped out of the elevator and was heading toward his office when a shout stopped him in his tracks. âCAMERON DID WHAT? WITH WHOM?â
House was limping to the door of the diagnostics department, eyes wide, and barked:
âWilson, come here. Right now!â
The oncologist hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to step into whatever spectacle House was staging this time.
âNow!â House snapped, jolting him out of indecision.
Wilson sighed and marched into the department, already crowded with the team - the male part, at least.
âWanna guess what your little mischievous friend did?â House taunted. Chase had a half-smile plastered on his face, while Foreman looked nothing short of incredulous.
Wilson was too tired for games. He could only muster the energy to shoot back:
âWhat friend?â
House huffed. âShort, thick, speaks funny⌠sounds like a bell? Oh! Recently we discovered she likes coochie.â
Wilson rubbed his face, weary. âWhat did she do this time thatâs worth a meeting?â He was wary of Chaseâs smugness. If this whole circus was just to announce sheâd hooked up with Chase⌠Wilson would lose it.
âShe kissed Cameronâ Foreman said flatly.
Wilson blinked. That was unexpected. The words didnât even seem to register in his brain.
âCameron?â James repeated, for confirmation.
âYeah. Quite the sightâ Chase replied, smug.
âIt wasnât a kiss,â came a calm voice from the doorway. All heads turned as Cameron entered. âIt was just a peck. A form of greeting.â
Foreman burst out laughing. âThatâs what she said, and you went with it! Confess, Cameron: for her it was a demonstration, but you? You were curious.â
The immunologist pressed her lips shut, refusing to answer under the weight of everyoneâs stares.
âOh. My. God.â House drawled, resting his chin on his hand as if fascinated. âSo, how was it? Enough to switch you?â
Wilson was still trying to process it, still trying not to think about it too much. God knows how he would handle this if he let the images stick in his headâŚ
âIt was okay, I meanâŚâ Cameron tilted her head, pretending to search for words. âIf you like peachy skin, gentle hands, and soft breasts pressing against you⌠itâs a pleasant sensation.â She finished with a faint smile, looking victorious.
A mosquito could have dropped dead in the middle of the department, and they wouldâve heard it.
âAnd to think Chase and Wilson were worried about each other when, in fact, they should be worried about you⌠way hotter like this, anyway.â House shook his head, then jabbed Wilson with his cane. âYouâre awfully quiet, Jimmy. Taking notes?â
He wasnât. His mind was fighting a battle of its ownâtrying to drown the images before they took shape, while at the same time forcing down the sharp surge of jealousy in his chest. His grip on his briefcase whitened his knuckles, but he didnât notice.
All he managed was: âThis is none of my concern, House.â
âOh, youâre pissedâ House declared with a Machiavellian laugh. âYouâre jealous, admit it. The puppy wags her tail for anyone who pets her.â
Wilsonâs jaw flexed. His fingers dug into his palm inside his pocket, nails biting skin. âDonât talk like that. Sheâs young and free. Now, donât you guys have work? Because I do.â He strode toward the door.
âStopâŚâ House called after him. Wilson froze, shoulders rigid, holding the door open so Foreman and Chase could pass while he waited.
âGuess Iâm not the only one she experiments withâ Chase whispered just for Wilson, a devious smirk flashing for only a second before the Australian walked off.
Wilsonâs throat went dry. Heat crawled up the back of his neck, and he felt the pulse hammering behind his ear. You have no right to be angry, he scolded himself. Get a grip. Now.
âAre you adding something else, or can I shut the door in your face?â Wilson asked, voice tight, while House took his sweet time gathering files before finally heading over.
âIâve got this patient. You should take a lookâsee if it really is what I think. Also, lunch at the same time today, right?â House shoved the files against Wilsonâs chest. The oncologist flinched at the contact, realizing only then how tightly he was holding himself together.
And then House walked off, leaving him alone with the weight of the files and the heavier weight in his chest.
Wilson sighed. Of course. It had been far too calm for a Monday.
đŠş
Wilson was glad he had good news for practically all his patients. The first had gone into remission, the second had started responding well to treatment, and the last was now officially cancer-free.
That was rare in his profession. He wasnât often the bearer of good news, and today it mattered even more. Because he wasnât fully present â and a dying patient deserved more than half of him. He could be many nasty things, James knew, but he was a hell of an oncologist. His patients got all of him, body and soul. The right words, the right pauses, the listening. He cared.
At least, for now, he could deliver smiles instead of sorrow. And he needed that.
Because his mind kept drifting back to her.
Alright, she had kissed Cameron â or pecked, whatever excuse she wanted to dress it up with. He could almost buy that. Almost.
But then there was Chase.
Guess Iâm not the only one she experiments with.
The words gnawed at him, looping in his head. What the hell had Chase meant? Did they get together? Kiss? Or worse? When would that even have happened?
Chase wouldâve bragged â wouldnât he? That smug little smirk had lasted only a second, but Wilson had seen it. Felt it. And she⌠she wouldâve slipped somehow, right? She wasnât exactly cautious when it came to honesty.
Wouldn't she?
The thought made his stomach knot. He didnât want to picture it. Didnât want to imagine her mouth on Chaseâs, or the way her hand might curl into his shirt. But the images pushed in anyway. Sharper, more vivid than he wanted. Her breath catching. The tilt of her head. The soft sounds sheâd make ifâ
âStop.â He muttered it under his breath, shaking his head as if he could throw the thoughts off. But his body betrayed him, heat rushing low, his pulse climbing with every forbidden picture.
It wasnât just jealousy. It was hunger.
And that was worse.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, angry with himself. He was her colleague. Her friend. Married, for Godâs sake. He had no right to be jealous. No right to be hard just from imagining her lips anywhere.
And yet, his chest still burned, his mind still circling back to the same two possibilities: had Chase actually touched her, or was he just taunting?
A knock on the door startled him. He cleared his throat and commanded:
âCâmon in.â
There she was.
First her head peeked in, cautious, testing the waters. Then the rest of her slipped inside, quiet, careful, as if she might disturb something sacred. And closed it behind her.
Oh, oh. That was a problem.
Securing a small pot in her hands, the med-student greeted timidly:
âHi, uh⌠sorry to bother.â
She looked around the space before setting her eyes warmly on Wilson again.
âI didnât see you all morning and figured you might be busy. Maybe too busy to escape for lunch, soâŚâ
He glanced at his watch â almost noon.
She handed him the pot. He took it carefully, but not carefully enough to stop the brush of her fingers against his. The contact was brief, innocent, yet it lingered, sparking across his skin like a static charge.
âI made brownies. Was planning to share eventually, over coffee, but I thought you might need them more now.â
The gesture made him melt. It carried a handful of confessions all at once.
She missed him. She cared for him. And she was planning on seeing him anyway, like it was already part of her routine.
He appreciated it so much. What a shame he had a painfully hard situation to deal with. And her kindness wasnât helping him keep it from getting worse. James stayed in his chair, afraid that standing would betray him. His body wasnât nearly as disciplined as his voice.
âThatâs incredibly sweet of you⌠literally.â He offered a half-laugh.
He wanted to tease, to ask her, Are you now planning our dates and everything? But could he say that? Wouldnât that be crossing a line? Maybe he could â maybe this was the kind of friendship they had: warm, joyful, even open enough to be flirty without meaning anything.
Except friends shouldnât be aroused over dirty thoughts of the other.
âIt really made my day to know somebody is caring for me,â he said at last, choosing the safest thing that still carried warmth. Affection, but not too much. âAnd I will enjoy these, even though I was almost going to find my lunch date.â The last part came out dry, sarcastic: obvious hint at House. âWere you⌠waiting for me for lunch?â Wilson fumbled, bold against his better judgment.
Her cheeks pinked, and she looked away quickly.
âOh, actually Iâm having lunch with Cuddy. She asked me.â She swung slightly on her feet, restless. âI think weâre gonna discuss if I can shadow other doctors or not.â A small laugh escaped her, flat and nervous.
âHey, relax. Itâs going to work,â Wilson assured gently. âYouâve been phenomenal. I donât think Iâve ever met someone who multitasks like you.â
âThanks.â Her eyes lifted back to his, searching. She bit her lip â not coy, but as if she were weighing something.
His skin prickled. His pulse tripped. And then she moved.
Not away. Straight to him.
âAlright, if youâre not coming to me, I am coming to you again.â Her voice carried a sudden decisiveness as she rounded the desk.
Panic surged. He shifted sharply, crossing his legs under the desk, praying his body wouldnât betray him.
Then she bent over his chair and wrapped her arms around him.
Their height difference vanished in the angle â his face brushing close enough to feel the swell of her chest just beneath his chin. Heat, soft and unbearable, pressed into him. Her hair slipped across his cheek, carrying the faint scent of coffee and sugar, maybe the brownies.
Jesus.
Being Jewish and calling for Jesus demonstrated a new level of despair.
When she finally let go and started for the door, he was still too stunned to move, still vibrating with her presence.
âAre you coming?â she asked, already halfway through the door.
âIâll be in a minute. You can go ahead,â he managed.
âAlright⌠but hey, donât devour every brownie, okay? Save some for coffee time.â She gave him a quick smile and disappeared.
The door shut. Silence rushed in.
Wilson sagged back in his chair, skin hot, pulse unsteady. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair like he needed to hold himself together.
đŠş
He was not stalking her.
Of course not.
He was just checking out of the cafeteria line after being conned into buying lunch for himself and House â when his friend, moving at the fastest speed a cripple could manage, darted straight toward the table right next to Cuddy and the med-student.
Wilson shot House a look that clearly said really? Even Cuddy gave them both a pointed glance of disapproval. Not that it stopped either of them from sitting down anyway.
âSo, yes. I donât have any problem with you exploring other areas of medicine while youâre here,â Cuddy said, turning back to the girl.
âOh, thank you so much!â the girl lit up. âAs you could see in my letter of presentation, I am highly inclined to pediatricsâŚâ
âActually, Iâm having trouble finding your rĂŠsumĂŠ.â
Wilson froze.
Shit.
âIâve been looking the last few days since you first brought it upâŚâ Cuddy went on, âbut I must have misplaced it somewhere.â
House gasped theatrically, clutching his chest. âUnbelievable â the total disregard for an employeeâs personal records.â He turned to the med-student. âYou should sue.â
Her cheeks turned crimson. âIâI will do no such thingâ she assured quickly, looking back at Cuddy.
âYou wouldnât happen to know anything about that, right, House?â Cuddyâs voice carried more accusation this time.
âI guarantee you, I neither have nor have ever had that file,â House said blandly, already eating the lunch Wilson had paid for.
That was, technically, partially true. Her archive had been sitting in Wilsonâs drawer since House kidnapped it. It wasnât like he was studying her. Yeah, he had read it once or twice, principally her professorâs recommendation letters. But once he was done, he kind of forgot.
He cleared his throat and forced himself to eat like nothing was wrong.
âAnyway,â Cuddy said, shifting tone, âIâm sure youâve heard the rumors by now, but the hospital is organizing a formal event next month. Generally, students, interns and residents arenât invited, but since youâve been going above and beyond, I wanted to offer you a seat.â
âDonât be,â House cut in. âItâs just a bunch of filthy-rich old white guys having their egos massaged in exchange for giving us more money.â
âHeâs just being sour,â Wilson interjected, glad for the distraction. âOur events are actually enjoyable, most of the time.â
âSaid the rich, old, white guyâ House muttered, smirking.
Wilson rolled his eyes. âAs if I had a wing named after me. As I said â really good, except for those who hate tuxedos.â
âOh, is that all about an insecurity problem? Donât worry, Iâm sure youâll look handsome.â The student poked the diagnostician.
âWill you hold my hand and tell me Iâm pretty?â House retorted.
âOnly if you are well-behaved.â
Wilson felt something like pride swell in his chest at her answer. She was growing claws â and House was letting her.
đŠş
Wilson didnât have her phone number yet, but he did have her pager. By 16:00, he sent:
Come to my office whenever you can.
It wasnât long before she appeared.
He was just finishing arranging the pastries when she knocked. Same ritual as that morning: a quick peek through the cracked door, then she slipped inside and â like before. His pulse jumped when she turned the lock, a small metallic click that made the office feel suddenly smaller. For a moment, he wondered if inviting her here had just made things worse â if privacy was protection, or temptation.
But then she smiled, warm and bright, and the guilt eased just enough to let him breathe.
âYes, master?â she said in her best Jeannie voice.
Wilson laughed. âDamn, no way thatâs from your time.â
âOh, shut up. Itâs a classic.â She went on with him âSo, whatâs the page about?â
He stepped aside, revealing the table. The brownies she made, tiny sandwiches, her favorite coffee. It looked simple, but setting it up without House noticing had been a small miracle.
Her mouth dropped open. âDid I ever tell you that you are my hero?â she said, picking up the cup heâd handed her.
âMaybe once. Wouldnât mind hearing it twiceâ he said, mock-pretentious.
She bumped his shoulder lightly. âIâll save it for another opportunity. I donât wanna make you cocky. But thank you, seriously. I needed a change of scenery.â
Truth was, so did he.
Ever since that last talk in the cafeteria, where sheâd dragged her chair closer, his heart had pounded and for one dangerous second heâd almost leaned in, Wilson had been thinking about boundaries. Not just his, but hers.
If anything like that ever happened again and someone saw, sheâd be the one paying for it â the gossip, the raised eyebrows, the rumors about how sheâd âearnedâ his attention. He couldnât stomach the thought.
At least here, they could talk without an audience. No gawkers, no whispers. Safe.
Or so he told himself.
âYes, it was too crowded,â he admitted, suddenly aware how quiet his office felt now. âFigured it would be nice to have a more private place to talk.â
The words sounded more intimate out loud than they had in his head. He blushed, but her easy smile took the sting out of it.
âSoâ he said, grateful for a subject change, âI heard Saturday was wildâŚ
She blinked, genuinely confused. âWas it? I mean, it was fun â I got drunk, we laughed a lot, but that was it. Didnât even complete my actual mission for the night, if you remember what it was.â A faint blush crept up her neck.
âOh, okay, if you donât want to tell meâŚâ
âIâd tell you if I had anything to tell!â She turned her head, then smirked. âWhy donât you tell me what you think you know, and maybe Iâll confirm â or not.â
âWellâŚâ Now he was the one flushing. âLetâs just say I didnât expect your âIf I could I would be kissing and hugging everyone at this hospitalâ to be so literal.â
She gasped. âOh my god. I canât believe theyâre so mouthy!â
Wilson laughed. It was true: the hospital was basically a gossip mill.
âIt wasnât even a real kiss. I didnât count it as oneâ she insisted. âI justâ wow.â
âYou really have been shaking things up around here,â he teased.
âI didnât mean to! I told them, âI greet some of my friends with a peck in my country,â and then they dared me. I didnât think theyâd remember.â She huffed, then squinted. âI mean, Cameron is way too straight for it to stick in her head⌠isnât she?â
âShe is. Probably. But Chase and Foreman are also way too straight for that,â Wilson chuckled.
She groaned.
âAnything else I should know before I embarrass myself further?â
âOh, I wouldnât want to intrude,â he said softly.
âAre you kidding? Iâm glad itâs you I get to talk to about this, more than anyone else.â
Her words hit him like a small, pleasant punch to the chest. leaving him momentarily breathless. Something warm bloomed under his ribs, something dangerously close to pride.
âI admire how easy-going and well liked you areâ Wilson heard himself say â and didnât even try to stop it. She gave him a sweet smile in return.
âYou think so? Thanks. Took a lot of practice.â
âI donât believe in you. It seems so natural.â She let out a dry, sarcastic laugh at his affirmation.
âWhen youâre an outcast for most of your life, you learn a trick or two. Took me more than half of high school to figure out I could actually be funny. And once people started laughing because of me instead of at me, things got easier.âÂ
Wilson blinked, momentarily thrown. The thought of someone mocking her hit him like a slap - a surprise one. He gripped the edge of his desk without realizing it, searching for something to say.
âI would imagine" was all he could manage, his voice quieter than before. She drifted away from his desk, fingers tracing the spines of his books absently as if the motion kept her grounded.
âItâs okay, reallyâ she said. âI got over it. And now look at me â funny, witty, allegedly charming. Who knew bullying could lead to character development?â
He chuckled, though there was an edge of dark to her humor he hadnât heard before.âAlso, I had a major glow-up. Physical and sporty. And apparently pretty privilege is real.â She gave him a sidelong glance that was half-daring. âSo⌠what were you like in school and college?â
It was a lot to process â her past, her resilience, her sudden question. He stalled for time, licking his lips before finally answering:
âI feel like you need a hugâ They both laughed, the heaviness breaking for a moment. âI was actually normal, I think - wait, that came out wrongâ He flushed.
She laughed harder, doubling over and holding her stomach, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. âNo, no, please, continueâ
âFine.â Still a little embarrassed, he tried to finish. âI was well liked, but wouldnât describe myself as popular.â
She huffed, mocking: âYeah, right. Tall, strong and handsome would never be in the popular crew.â The med-studente wasnât even looking at him when said it. She didnât even notice how he arched his eyebrows over the adjectives.
Oh, oh.
The words sank into him like a shot of heat. His chest puffed a little despite himself, his spine straightening. Taking small, unpretentious steps toward her, Wilson found the courage to speak up âSo⌠you think I am tall?â
âOh, please.â She rolled her eyes, still scanning the books. âLike you didnât notice youâre six foot.â He suppressed a laugh over that snarky response. The girl didnât notice heâd closed the distance until his voice rumbled close to her ear.
âStrong, too?â he asked, softer this time, teasing.
She jolted, spinning toward him. He was leaning against the bookstand now, arms loose but presence magnetic.
She blushed but held her ground. âYeah, another invariable feature. You know that â otherwise you wouldnât roll up your sleeves to show off your biceps marking through the shirt⌠oh, stop flexing, Gaston!âÂ
He was, in fact, flexing, and her mock-slap to his chest broke the tension into laughter.
But Wilson didnât let go of her hand. His thumb brushed over her knuckles in a small, absent-minded caress before he realized what he was doing. The air between them went still, heavier.
âOkayâŚâ He wet his lips, weighing the next words. âHandsome, though â thatâs pretty subjective.â
Her chest rose and fell a little faster. Her face flushed, her breath smelled like coffee and cinnamon. Wilsonâs own breath hitched. He couldnât have said what he was waiting for â a laugh? a word? a kiss? Only God knew what. The air was dense and hard to actually get oxygen from.
Instead, she slid her hand free. Only to place it flat on his chest, tracing the muscle slowly, deliberately.
âI guess you got me.â she said, voice unsteady. Her other hand came up to his arm, trailing the muscle light as silk.
âI do think you are tall.â
Heâd expected a quip, maybe another eye-roll. Not this. Her gaze flicked up from under her lashes, heavy and deliberate: bedroom eyes that hit him like a sucker punch. For a second, he forgot how to breathe.
âI think you are strong.â
Her touch pressed a little firmer, still soft but charged, and the husky catch in her voice made his throat tighten, his mouth go dry.
Wilsonâs pulse lurched. He hadnât seen it coming, hadnât even let himself imagine her saying it out loud. And now the words pulsed in the space between them like a live wire.
Then she rose on tiptoe, and his heart lurched â God, was she actually going toâ?
No. Her mouth stopped near his ear, close enough to make his skin prickle. She tripped a little, he knew it was a hard time since they had such different heights. Reflexively, he hooked an arm around her waist to steady her, his better judgment shouting too farâ but he needed to know what she would say.
âAnd I do think you are disconcertingly attractive.â
The whisper seared straight through him. Her breath ghosted over his skin, raising every hair on his neck. His heart thrashed against his ribs, caught between panic and hunger.
Wilson held her waist a little tighter without meaning to, because his knees felt unsteady. He wanted to pull back, to draw a line â but the way she lingered there made his mind white out.
It wasnât just the words, it was the audacity. When she leaned back enough to meet his gaze again he studied her face carefully. And then, he caught it: the flicker of amusement, quickly tucked behind her lashes, trying to hide. As if sheâd meant every word, but she was hiding behind the mask of a prank, of mock-flirting. Daring him to react.
âYou- you little minxâ he rasped, narrowing his eyes.
She broke then, laughing lightly, retreating just enough to relieve the pressure. âBut you are handsome, James. There. Happy? You were just fishing for a compliment.â
He let go of her, now that she had smacked him on his arms again. âI was not.â His head was still spinning, confused. He paced around his office, leaning against his desk.
âYou were! But thatâs ok, next time you can just ask and donât act so smug and ambush me.â
âSmug?â He tried for casual, but his voice snagged on the word, betraying him. His throat felt dry. She was already grinning again, brushing crumbs from her fingers as if nothing had happened⌠while he still felt like the floor had shifted beneath him.
âDonât tell me youâve never been called smug before.â
âNot by someone who just called me handsome, no.â
âOh, you rascal.â She shook her head, laughing, but then started pacing again, her steps quick and aimless. Wilson caught the flicker of hesitation behind it. She wasnât as light as she wanted him to believe.
âOh, look at that!â she said suddenly, pointing at the glass door on the far side of the office. The one that led to the narrow balcony. âYou have a leisure area all to yourself! A private bathroom, a balcony⌠how spoiled are you, big and important head of oncology?â
He gave a small laugh, following her gesture.
âIt has its perks, but itâs not private, it connects toââ
Wilsonâs stomach dropped. His eyes widened as the realization clicked: the balcony connected directly to Houseâs office.
He froze, pulse spiking, suddenly aware of the glass, the too-bright afternoon light spilling through it. Anyone couldâve been out there. Watching.
His mind flitted through the last few minutes. Her hand on his chest, the whisper at his ear, the way his thumb had lingered against her skin. Every beat replayed sharper, now framed against the possibility of an unseen audience.
He forced a chuckle, too late, too thin. ââto Houseâ he finished, trying to sound casual.
But the back of his neck prickled all the same, as if the glass still held an imprint of eyes.
At Princeton-Plainsboro, Dr. James Wilson prides himself on being the kind one â the friend, the confidant, the moral compass. But when a brilliant young med-student begins orbiting his life, casual mentorship blurs into dangerous intimacy.
Warnings: I am very direct by the way the characters of the show acts so be aware thar its a 2004 show: there will be a few bifobic/homofobic lines (like thriteen being absurdly sexualized) and other delicate questions and problematics that have been already in the Show. House is sarcastic and since the maisn character is latina (bazilian to be specific) there will be steriotipical comments and racists jokes. "oh but house would never" yes he would, he would so much as he would make fun of dwarfinism. And so would Wilson.
Also, age gap, size kink AND THERE WILL BE SMUT
Link to AO3 here
Index:
Chapter 1: First Symptoms
Chapter 2: Under Observation (18/09)
Chapter 3:
Chapter 4:
Chapter 5:
Chapter 6:
Chapter 7:
Chapter 8:
Chapter 9:
Chapter 10:
Chapter 11:
Chapter 12:
Chapter 13:
A few obs: The story begins in season 1, but there is not many canon events that you can use for track in the early chapters (no mentions of vogler, nothing like that.)
Oh, I am also aware that Princeton doesn't have a med school but for the good of the story, now it does.
13 chapters ready so far, I am gonna try post them once a week.
"If tampons should be free, then so should my diabetes meds."
Yes? Yes they should be? Your life-saving medication that you need in order to live for a condition you were born with should be given to you at no cost?
You caught the eyes of the most coveted boys in you house⌠but really, you didnât want this attention.
Warnings: manhandling, gaslighting, swearing, smut, forceful kiss, dub-con and non-con. Proceed with caution.
Obs: 1 - This story happens in year of book 4;
2 - Quidditch still happens even with the TWT;
3 - Prefects have a single dorm with bathroom.
Masterlist of the fic here
Chapter 2
By the time you arrived at the Griffindor common room, there was a pilled of teenagers and a gold egg rise above. Fred and George crossed the sea of children until they reached Harry, and put the 14 year old on theirs shoulders.
You were proud for you house, but not enough to make you stay. So you just screamed at Harry your congratulations and went to your bedchamber.
Not long after you took your shower and prepared to bed, you heard knocks on your dorm. Could it be Taly?
âIâve already told you, I am not going anywhere this hour Thaliaâ you finished your sentence right at the time to see both red heads on the other side. You frowned, confused. How did they manage to came to the girls dorms? Werenât they supposed to be sliding down by now? âHow are you two here?â
âA magician never tellsâ George blinked one eye as they entered your room without you permission.
âHey, I didnât letâŚâ
âCâmom, princess. Everyone is waiting for youâ Fred rushed.
âWhy would anyone? I said, multiple times, I am not goingâ
They shrugged.
âI guess itâs fine by us⌠wouldnât mind spending the night here, alone, with youâ Fred said, taking a few steps on your direction. The hair in your body raised and you gulped. This wasnât going well and you had a bad feeling. Feeling cornered, you took the steps back.
âI.. I am going to changeâ the boys smile at each other but didnât seemed like leaving the room without you. So you separated something you could wear and direct to the bathroom in the suite.
After changed, you went back, trying to feel like going to the party was your decision. As soon as you walked out, they looked at you.
âYou look goodâ Fred wet his lips with his tongue. âItâs not a dress, like we hoped, but sure compliments your thighsâ you blushed. Didnât understand how the almost-boyfriend of your best friend felt the need to talk to you like that. And, by now you notice their clothesâŚ
They were using the knit jumpers that every Weasley had. But George had a âFâ on his chest, and Fred, the âGâ. You were sure of that, had pass enough time being disturbed by then to tell the difference.
âWhy did you guys exchange your sweaters?â They smiled.
âLook at that, George⌠know us so wellâ by now, Fred was dangerously close. You really didnât understand why he was doing it and sure didnât understand why the so called âpossessiveâ George, would let him.
âIt is sure adorableâ George affirmed.
âI⌠I think we should goâ
âThat is a great ideaâ Fred said, so close his chest was touching you, and he looked down, penetrating eyes taking in your frame.
You managed to elude him and walked fast past George, leaving your room.
The party was animated. No sign of Harry, the reason this party was happening in the first place. Of course, he should be exhausted. The twins were standing beside you and, not long after, you saw Taly make her way in your direction, but specifically, to George direction.
âHey, babeâ you didnât even had the time before Thalia was kissing George intensely. Not that you cared, but you were half sure she meant to kiss Fred - that right now had take possession of your waist and was squeezing you against his body.
âHey, what are you doing?â You asked at Fred, at the same time Taly had let go of George and was now leaning against his shoulders âThalia, you got the wrong twin. That is Georgeâ
Thalia raised her head from his shoulder, eyebrows arched at your direction. Fred was still holding you for dear life. Taly first looked at Fred, then George, then at you. Then looked at the boys again -whose were looking at you with mischievous smiles- and started to laugh. The boys followed her.
âDamn girl, who do you think youâre fooling? I know my man well enough. And besides, if he-â she pointed at man behind you âwas Fred and was holding you like this, we would be throwing fistsâ your eyes widened.
âShe tried to make a joke. But Angel, this is really not your strongest spotâ Fred said, lowering himself to kiss your neck, making your body bristle.
What?
That was fucked up. You definitely were not going that crazy. How could Thalia not see? This is not something you would be lying or joking about.
âRelax, my love, we are going to have funâ Fred said again. He didnât loosened his grip a little bit when you to shrug him off.
âI-I donât understandâ you said, trying to turn around and look at him. He allowed you to âI thought⌠that you liked Talyâ his condensed demi-laugh was enough of a response âand that George liked meâŚâ
âWell, you are half correct. George does like you⌠and so do Iâ
âBut⌠you are brothersâ
âSo what? We donât mind sharing.â
âBut I do mind this⌠this situation!â Fred suppressed a laugh âAnd TalyâŚâ you turned your head behind, just to see your friend making out with the other twin. And George had just made eye contact with you. Fred put his finger in your chin, turning your face back to him.
âDo not worry your pretty head about anything. We are going to take care of everything⌠of you.â He took your hands and brought to his neck âNow, dance with meâ
And you dance. At least you thought you did, you moved your body and Fred did to, urging you to follow his moves⌠his intimated moves. Fred were definitely bolder than his brother, and it tormented you.
His hands were everywhere, and it made you astonished. You wanted to push him, to get away from there. He managed to guide you to a wall, you noticed because your back hit it.
Now, you were far away from the center of the crowd, and away from the attention.
âDo you have any idea of how unbearable it has been to have to handle your little friend day-by-day? So that way we could be next to you?â
âDonât talk about her like that!â You defend, so angry your teeth showed. âI thought you were friends, at leastâ
âDonât get me wrong⌠itâs nice that you have someone to talk to⌠and that she carries you around like a pretty keychain and all⌠and she do give amazing bjsâŚâ you tried to push him again. He suppress a laugh and continue âbut she is not you. And it has been hell having to be with her, when all I wanted was to be⌠hereâ His body was now completely glued to yours. His hands trailed through your side, reaching your waist, hip, bum and tights -where he reached beneath and pulled towards his hips.
âStop it!â You urge, but he only crushed you more against the wall. Embarrassment took your body, knowing damn well that this kind of âintimacyâ in this public space would create comments in the next morning.
âYou have no idea of the things I would do to youâ he lowered his head til it was face to face. âCâmon, give me a kissâ he pleaded as he ran his nose through yours, then to your cheek, chin⌠then up the same path on the other side of your face. His lips touched yours, more gentle than expected. He gave you little moist pecs, then pressed firmly. For a second, you let him, surprise with his calm actions. His tongue entered your mouth, a cautious exploration, and for a half a moment you didnât absolutely hate it. But not a second later, he changed, being more aggressive, hungry.
It reminded you of your first kiss, that had been stolen a month prior. With George. It angered you, been reminded of the things they stolen from you. That they kept doing it. For a second, he slowed and break the kiss, keeping his mouth close to yours. You took a chance and bit his lip. Hard.
He made a low, hoarse, disapproving sound from the back of his throat. Then grabbed the back of your head e brought your ear to his lips.
âDonât play games with me. You think you can get away with this bratty behavior? I am no George.â He pulled his face back to look at you. His lip was bleeding a little, and was a little swollen where you bit. Fear besides, that made you a little proud, you almost smirked. âApologize. Now.â
âI will not. You should leave me alone.â
âI think Iâm gonna need to teach you some mannersâŚâ
âHey, couple. Maybe you should get a roomâ both of you were so immersed in you own discussion, didnât even notice Taly and George approach. âWow, your lip is swollen, George. Damn, girl. Getting savage, arenât you?â
âShe sure is, Thalia. Never could imagine before.â Fred answered before you could. âWould you mind fetching us some drinks?â
âNo problemâ she kissed George and said âIâll be quickâ and left. Now you were alone, again, with both.
âYou spoiled her.â Fred accused
âMe?âGeorge asked, shocked.
âYou are too easy on her, donât discipline enough. Look at this stunt she pulledâ the older twin pointed to his own lip.
âSo what, canât take a bite now?â
âStop talking about me like Iâm not even here!â You almost screamed âThis is insane! And⌠and your behavior is unacceptableâ they were both looking at you, right now. Like youâve grown a second head or something.
âKnow what? Youâre right. Iâm gonna be direct from now onâ Fred said and George raised an eyebrow âTaly is going to be back with the drinks. You are gonna drink it, maybe will help loosen you up. Then we are going to dance for a little bit longer, and then we are going to you bedchamber, where I will teach you some manners.â You clenched you jaw and your eyes went watery, both from anger and fear.
âFred, take it easy. She needs time to adjustâŚâ George half-plead
âUhum. Letâs continue with your way, see how great it turned out till now.â The sarcastic tone shown how pissed he was.
âYou are an asshole! Iâm not something⌠someone that needs discipline. I have willâ you almost screamed at him. He raised his eyebrows, then tilted his head in your direction, looking at his brother like someone who was saying âSee?â.
âAngel, donâtâŚâ
âDonât what? He is clearly evil and you donât buy me with the condescending tone. You are no better than him. But honestlyâŚâ George eyes were wide open, you turned your face so you could look at Fred again. It didnât matter how much you had pushed him through the discussion, he just wouldnât let go of your waist âYou are sadistâ
âDamn, am I in the wrong timing?â
âNever, dearâ George answered, so out of the Fred character that even Taly furrowed her eyebrows. âI meanâŚâ
âThank you for the drinks, Taly.â Fred took one, and frowned as he looked at it âWhatâs this again?â
âGigglewater. They ran out of firewhiskey and, honestly, butterbeer wouldnât hit so fastâ she shrugged âI can change, if itâs not of your taste.
âNo, I imagine. Was just confirming.â Fred answered politely âGood choice, honestly. Here, honeyâ he brought the beverage to your lips, but you stopped midway.
âI am not drinking it. Iâve said multiple times I do not like alcoholâ
âBuuuu! Donât be so lameâ Thalia boomed.
âCâmon dear, you need to experience new things. Youâve never had this drink, how come you not like it?â Fred tried to be persuasive âAnd besides, you said it yourself that youâre thirstyâ
You hadnât said anything. But you were. You had to contemplate for a few minutes. Last experience you saw that you could take alcohol and not die instantly. It also showed you could take a few shots of firewhiskey and keep your composure. If this wasnât Talyâs first choice to get wasted, so it shouldnât be stronger than the former, right? How bad could it be?
You let Fred finish the path of the drink to your mouth. And drink it. It tasted like coconut and happiness, not like alcohol at all and it immediately made you joyful about it. You finish the entire mug.
âThe taste is go-â you werenât able to finish the sentence before the affects started to hit you body. It was noticeable that Fred had to put extra effort to keep you on your feet. You looked up to him, just to see his pleased expression. âWhatâŚâ you couldnât even finish
The sensation was so strange. The anger you felt before, was just gone. Your brain was fuzzy, and everytime a cautious thought came to you head, it instantly disappeared, a funny fog clouding your mind.
You couldnât feel angry and stay angry. You couldnât feel anxiety, couldnât feel fear nor despair. It was just⌠too funny.
âOh, my love. Everything alright?â Fred asked. You smiled. You face relaxed after being on a âmad-faceâ all night.
âI amâŚâ you were violently fight the effects of the gigglewater, but was loosing it anyhow. Even so, you restrained from talking to much âfineâ
âI can see thatâ Thalia said, eyeing you up and down âdonât worry. Just let it goâ she said, really reassuring you âWe all know how much you are naturally anxious. Just⌠enjoyâ
The flush of calmness and giggles hit you hard. Fred was basically holding you up right now.
âDamn. That really did wellâ
âI knowâ Taly said, taking a sip of her drink.
âWhat are you on? Itâs not the same as her.â George accused.
âOh, me?â Taly pointed at herself âItâs butterbeer. I donât drink that shit. Learned my lesson a long timeâ she shook, like the memory was painful âBut I am here to take care of her through it and donât let her near any harm. And so are you, guys. Itâs three people taking care of one. Nothing can go wrong.â
âYou are so right, Talyâ Fred said. You felt joy, you were not used to being taken care of.
âAnd you are such a good friendâ George said, hugging her from behind a kissing her in the cheek. Isnât that adorable? You thought.
They noticed that you started giggle, Thalia approached you, took your hands and asked âDo you wanna dance?â
Dance? It sounded so fun, you opened your smile, cheeks sitting high in you face while you agreed with your head. Thalia guided you three to the middle of the crowd again and said, pointing fingers:
âDo NOT let go of herâ she pointed at the man behind you âand do NOT let her out of your sightâ she turned to George.
They never seen you so relaxed. Without a care in the world, you danced, a smile permanently stamped on your lips, eyes that didnât exactly focus anywhere, and very flushed skin. By now, a few droplets of sweat started to appear. Dear god, you were dashing.
You let Fred guide you through the moves. Dancing for him and with him.
Moments before your back was turned to him, your fingers still intertwined with Taly, that encourages you to dance and even teach you some moves. And you did everything. Everything glued to Fredâs lap.
For a moment he had to control his face as if he wasnât just about to cum in the spot. He could let you go, didnât had to go through this kind of embarrassment. But you were so delicious. So willing. Fredâs eyes met Georgeâs for a moment and it said, clearly, what his twins thoughts were âLucky bastardâ.
But right now, you were turned face to face. And he really felt like a lucky bastard. Dancing so close he didnât distinguish his breath from yours. The bulge in his pant were becoming unbearable, but he didnât want to stop the dance with you. On contrary of you, he was turning really sweaty, face 100% flushed. Fred was about to lose his shit. Time to time, he would stock against you, making you giggle because âHe is missing the stepsâ
âSorry, dollâ he wouldâve answered, quickly, to avoid any suspicious from Taly, in case she looked back
But goddammit. You were even taking the initiative and kissing him eventually, and kissing him back when he started! It was sloppy, but so inebriating. And was in the middle of a kiss that Thalia poked Fred arms.
âIâm gonna get another beer. Want some?â
âNo, thanksâ
âAlright. Do NOT lose her while Iâm goneâ
âDude, do you really think this is a warn you need to give me?â Fred exasperated and Thalia laughed.
And then, there was George.
âMate, what do you think you are doing?â George asked Fred.
âDonât know what do you meanâ
âYou donâtâŚ? Arenât you supposed to danced just a little and then went to her bedroom?â
âYes but⌠she seems to be enjoy it. Have you saw her like this before?â George looked at you. Practically being carried by Fred from tiredness. But was smiling, really adorable.
âEnjoying? Yes, because she is wasted! Itâs been more than a hour and the effects of the gigglewater are gonna start to fade.â
âBrother, relax. Iâve got everything under control. Just a couple more minutes and we will go.â George huffed.
âAlright, anyone can see that you are almost fucking her in the dance floor.â
âFuck is such a awesome worldâ you said and started to repeat the world again and again.
âCalm down, Georgie.â Fred tried to appease
âFuck fuck fuck fuck FUCKâ you screamed and Fred covered your mouth, he sure didnât expect that. You started to giggle again.
The twins noticed a couple of looks. Damn, so much for laying under attention.
âSheâs a little drunkâ Fred explained to no one in particular âalrightâŚâ he turned to George âwe are goingâ
âOh, but now?â Thalia said, coming out of nowhere.
âYes. Iâm getting really tired -didnât think your friend was capable of worn me out butâŚâ Fred looked at George, expecting help, that didnât came. âAnd I donât really think that leaving her with just the two of you are going to turn out great. So Iâm gonna take her to bedâŚâ Taly seemed astonished at that.
âOh, no need! I can take herâŚâ
âPlease, Taly. Iâm practically carrying her weight, you wonât be able toâ she seemed like objecting but George cut her before.
âWe know you are strong. But let my brother handle this. I have other thoughts on how you can waste your energyâ Taly looked unsure to you, who was blinking slow, and then at George and seemed convinced.
Fred started to walk with you and then Thalia screamed for his attention again âyou got to be kidding meâ, he thought
âHey Weasley, be a gentleman!â
âI always amâ he answer, with a smug smile in his face.
You entered you room after tripping a little on the stairs and was practically dying of laughter.
âAlright love, how about you change you clothes to some nice PJs? Fred suggested, picking you up the floor by your hips.
âI think thatâs a good ideaâ you said half smiling and went to your drawers, picking up a very large Tee. Fred thought that you would go to your suite to change but you only stayed with you back facing him and took off your shirt. And bra.
For the love of Merlin. He was already painfully hard, couldnât restrain any longer. He trailed his own hand to the bulge in his pants and squeezed, hoping for a little relief.
You put your shirt and as you bend over to take your pants off too, you looked at Fred, up side down, and asked with comedy tone âWhy are you here?â
âBecause Iâm gonna sleep hereâ he answered, half laughing.
âBut itâs the girls dormitory, a sillyâ you tripped while taking your pants off and started laughing again. Fred succumbed to it, laughing with you. He went to your direction, helping you out of your trousers.
As he slipped the fabric as you were still laying on your back in the floor, your shirt went up, revealing your knickers. He gulped. âIf you are going to sleep here, where are you PJs?â
He never took his own trousers so quickly. âHere, see. Like yoursâ that made you laugh even harder. His head was spinning, trying to work fast âWant to do something that is really cool?â
âWhat?â You asked with enthusiasm.
âCome hereâ Fred offered his hands so you could stand up. You did, and the followed as he guided you to your own bed.
It wasnât for a couple, like he had pictured, but it wasnât a single sized either. Much less, a bunker bed. Being a prefect had its advantages, he guess.
Before he, or you, could sit on it, he picked you up by the back of your legs and put it around his hips. You squeak and let out a giggle as he sit and reach for the middle of the bed and leaned on the headboard.
The way you laid perfectly on top of his erection made him let out a grunt. Fred only hope he could last enough for what he had planned. And it wasnât even the punishment he thought you needed in the beginning of the evening. This was far long gone, because in his mind you make up in the rest of the night.
âThere, princess, so good.â His words made you feel joy. Fred had been complimented you for all night long, calling you beautiful.
âNot exactly what I would called coolâ you said
âOh, yeah? How about if you give me a kiss, like you did downstairs? It was fun, wasnât it?â you nod, he hugged your waist with one arm, and, with the other hand he put behind your neck âCome hereâ. And then your lips were together. Your hands went to his shoulders, to help with the balance, and, now you were noticing how his whole body was rock-hard.
The once chast kiss went trough the window once Fredâs tongue entered your mouth. It was deep, sexy, but slow. He pressed your hips down on his lap and started moving it, guiding you in the motion of his choice.
Something more than gigglelish started to happen to your body, feeling hot and⌠a sudden urge to rub your middle against him. A moan came out of your mouth. So did Fred.
âYes, like this, love. Ainât it nice? I mean, fun?â You didnât answer him. Eyes too heavy to open. You rock your bottom against him more firmly, and Fred secured your hips with both hands while kissed you again.
You never felt like this before. You could take off your clothes. God, it was so hot you felt breathless. You arched your back a little and tilted your head back. Fred devoured your neck and you moaned again.
âThe sounds you make⌠for Merlin, you are so deliciousâ he moaned together with you this time. You felt your panties become wet, and the need for friction was enhanced. And Fred give it to you. Right now, both of you couldnât even kiss, too busy heavy panting. One arm evolved around your waist, holding you down for dear life, the other hand was moving your hips towards his. One of your hands was pulling the hair in the back of his neck, while the other was enjoying his solid form.
You felt like you could die. The sensation was engulfed, overwhelming. âI just wanna see your body melting above meâ Fred said. And you swore you would.
It was just so good⌠until it wasnât.
Shame started to cripple to your cheeks. You were becoming aware of yourself again.
âI⌠I.â You tried to speak out loud but couldnât. Of course that your mind coming back to its normal wouldnât affect immediately. You were too in the moment to just cut it. Right now, you need to evaluate yourself.
Right, the unstoppable heat consuming all your body, the sweat, the difficulty to breath and the incapacitating shake on your legs and lower abdomen. God, you didnât had any pants on? And your panties were WET?
Fred didnât had any pants either. How far would he go? You didnât understand how you let all that happen, but it needed to stop.
âI think I need a breakâ you could see Fred frowning as he raised his head.
âWhat? Why?â But was when his eyes meet yours that he saw: the fog just wasnât there anymore. He hit a perfectly good spot while trusting against your middle and you squeaked once again, almost folding forward. âOh, my love. Right now, Iâm not gonna stop until you drip your last drop of cum on my cockâ.
âNoâŚâ with the force that you had left, you tried to push his chest, but of course he didnât even squirm. The heat in you lower belly was rising, and you were shaking uncontrollably. In one last desperate attempt to make him stop, you tried to call him âFredâŚâ but it was just too late. He made sure of pressing just the right spot and all the tension started to turning relief. âAH!â You couldnât stop shaking, and little spasms took control over you whole body.
âYes, say my name like that again. Fuck!â Even you still going through your orgasm, Fred continue with the movements. âAlmost thereâŚâ You eyes filled up with water, involuntarily. It was just too much. Your knickers were soaked with your own juices and the continue friction wasnât letting you down from your highest spot. You lose all your force and bend forward, completely supported by him, like a rag doll. With a one particularly hard rub, his head went behind and his fingers put enough pressure on your hips to bruise âYes! Fuck!â.
As he stop the movements to ride out the orgasm, you could too. Fred brought his hands back to your waist and neck, he squeezed you in a hug and you just let him. âMy love, that was so worth the wait.â You didnât answer to him âYou came so pretty. God, Iâm gonna keep thinking about it for a long time.â He started moving around, he placed you on his previous spot and rise up.
And the moment he looked at you while standing up he said âDamn. Itâs just keeping getting betterâ. You looked at yourself at that. You knew you knickers were soaked but you didnât expect to see your tights glistening, and neither the big wet circle around your hips where once was probably a puddle of you juices.
A âclickâ and a flash woke you up from your trance. Fred had reached for your Polaroid in your desk and was now waving the picture. When you looked at him, you could also see thatâs his own tights and lower part of his shirt were humid too, and so was his underpants -but of course you couldnât distinguish how much of that was him and what were you.
âNo, please, you canâtâŚâ you eyes filled up with embarrassment.
âShhh, itâs okay. None of that. Itâs for my eyes only⌠and Georgeâs, of course. But Iâm not gonna waving it aroundâ Fred reached for his pants and put the picture in the back pocket. Then, he proceeded to take off his shirt and went back to bed, sitting next to you.
You both stood there. He reached your curls that were hanging in front of your eyes and put it behind your ears. You resist the urge to flinch. âLetâs go to bed, hun? It was a long day.â Fred said. You cleared you throat:
âIâm gonna take a showerâ
âNo.â You look at him, surprised stamped in you face âYou are going to sleep just like that. I need to feel and scent your smell a little more.â You were just so tired, and sore, and really didnât want him to have any extra ideas so you just said:
âI really need to peeâ
âOf course. Go ahead. But leave the door openedâ your face flushed. Why would he act that way?
You made your way to the bathroom, and, just before you could completely close the door Fred screamed âThatâs enoughâ you stoped, a little slot still open.
You were loosing your mind. The mirror in front of you gave you repulse. Dear, you felt dirty, you even looked dirty. Without wanting to feel anymore self pity, you lowered your panties, that were completely glued to you body. You just felt disgusting.
After, you went back to bed. It seemed like Fred had chose a spot for you to take. You laid on your side, back facing him. Not long after he embrace you and didnât let it go for the rest of the night.
Library of Congress - historical posters and photos
NASA - you guessed it
Creative Commons - all kinds of stuff, homie
Even Adobe has some free images
There are so many ways to make moodboards, bookcovers, and icons without plagiarising! As artists, authors, and other creatives, we need to be especially careful not to use someone elseâs work and pass it off as our own.Â
Please add on if you know any more resources for free images <3
Word Counter - Not only does it count the number of words youâve written, it tells you which words are used most often and how many times they appear.
Tip Of My Tongue - Have you ever had a word on the tip of your tongue, but you just canât figure out what it is? This site searches words by letters, length, definition, and more to alleviate that.
Readability Score - This calculates a multitude of text statistics, including character, syllable, word, and sentence count, characters and syllables per word, words per sentence, and average grade level.
Writerâs Block (Desktop Application) - This free application for your computer will block out everything on your computer until you meet a certain word count or spend a certain amount of time writing.
Cliche Finder - It does what the name says.
Write Rhymes - Itâll find rhymes for words as you write.
Verbix - This site conjugates verbs, because English is a weird language.
Graviax - This grammar checker is much more comprehensive than Microsoft Word, again, because English is a weird language.
Sorry for how short this is! I wanted to only include things I genuinely find useful. p>
