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Masterlist / Index / Previous chapter / Next chapter
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Morning came too soon.
Wilson woke with a dry mouth and a dull ache behind his eyes — 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, House’s 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 he’d keep his distance. Maybe today he’d start to claw back some control. But even as he thought it, his thumb was hovering over his pager, tempted to check if she’d text him overnight.
She didn’t. And to make it even better, due to force majeure, he didn’t catch even a glimpse of her in the hospital.
Unlike any other day, Wilson didn’t want this one to end. First because ending meant driving back to the big, quiet house and thinking about things he didn’t want to think about. Second because, once today ended, she’d be gone for four days.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, he was already miserable — which was, of course, when House texted:
Come to my office.
“Look at this, Wilson!” House beamed as soon as the oncologist crossed the door.
Chase was perched behind the computer, clearly amused. “What is it?” Wilson asked, dryly.
“Oh, somebody’s grumpy because he’s being left alone. Bo-ho.” House smirked. “Tell me, are you aware that young people keep in touch via social media?”
“I’m aware,” Wilson said slowly.
“Good. Then why on earth aren’t you Facebook friends with Thumbelina?”
House swung the monitor around. Her Facebook page filled the screen — private, except for a profile picture Wilson knew by heart.
“How do you even know that?” Wilson demanded.
“Because I’m logged into your account, you moron. See? Mutual friends: Chase, Cameron, Foreman, Cuddy…” House gave a mock-whistle. “And Nurse McAllen. Haven’t seen her name in a while.”
A flicker of guilt knifed through Wilson’s stomach. Thanks for the reminder.
“Honestly,” Chase added, grinning, “I thought maybe you were playing it cool. But you can’t claim to be her friend when you haven’t even added her.”
“I don’t do much social media,” Wilson muttered. Only now did he realize how easily he’d handed House another weapon.
House reached for the mouse. “Let’s fix that. It’ll help you when you’re missing her on her day off.”
“Don’t—”
Too late. House clicked Add Friend.
Wilson stared at the screen as though it had detonated.
“You’re welcome,” House said, tossing the mouse aside like a magician after a reveal. “Now sit back and wait for your dopamine hit.”
Chase was already chuckling under his breath, clearly entertained by the whole spectacle.
Wilson’s jaw worked but no words came out. His mind raced with every possible fallout — what if she thought it was creepy? What if she thought he was needy? What if she told Cuddy?
“You’re an ass,” he muttered finally, rubbing a hand over his face.
House only grinned wider. “Don’t thank me now. Thank me when she posts her vacation pics in a bikini.”
“And trust me, even if she doesn’t post anything new, it still has a bunch of good stuff you can stalk on.” 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 didn’t hear any of it — 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 she’d click accept.
The drive home was a blur of overthinking: wishing he’d seen her before she left, wishing they’d had their coffee break, wishing House hadn’t made a choice for him. And yet — Jesus — wishing she’d be glad he’d sent it. Wishing he didn’t 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:
I’m so sad I didn’t get the chance to see you before I left :(
Also realized we never exchanged numbers. If you miss me too much, don’t 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.
🩺
She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, suitcase half-packed, clothes spilling over the edge. Sunblock, sandals, headphones — 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 they’d been in each other’s pockets at work — 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. What’s the harm? she thought. We’re already friends. I’m 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 she’d been thinking of him too.
I’m so sad I didn’t 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.
“Not hitting on him,” she muttered to herself, snapping the suitcase shut. “Just being friendly.”
Still, her cheeks felt a little warmer than before.
🩺
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 “hello” (okay, maybe not the first move since she’d 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 didn’t have the courage to do was open her Facebook page. Truth was, he was afraid of what he’d see.
Until Monday.
Inside Diagnostics, the male staff was already doing their own “research.”
“So, have you seen the news today?” House asked once Wilson passed trough the glass door.
“Mild weather for the rest of the week and Bush won’t back off on the war on terror,” the oncologist answered flatly.
“Well, mild for us, steaming hot for Florida,” House teased.
“Are you guys serious… ogling her photos?” James sighed.
“Are you not?” Chase shot back.
“Have you no respect for your colleague?”
“In my defense, I’m not ogling anyone,” Foreman raised his hands, circling the table toward the door. “But she does have some pretty pictures. Let me know when you three finish your obsession.”
“I’m not…” Wilson started, but Foreman was already gone. “…obsessing over anyone.” His words hung in the air.
House squinted. “Oh, please. You doubled your screen time. Don’t tell me you’re not texting about your days apart.”
“It’s called being friendly,” Wilson muttered, cheeks turning pink.
“Until the texts become sexts and sexts become pictures more revealing than the ones I’m seeing. Speaking of which—” House leaned back, mock-philosophical. “For evolutionary purposes, I strongly suggest you check her page.”
“Alright, enough. I am going to my office.” 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 wasn’t from her briefly vacation. It dated a week ago and she had her practice outfit.
“5, 6, 7, 8…” 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 man’s hands.
Fucking hell.
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.
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 here…
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 couldn’t even breathe. The bikini was in no way American cut. Unapologetic, a stark red against her tan skin. It wasn’t trashy — it was powerful, confident, completely at odds with the modest but funny student he’d built in his mind.
Jesus.
The contrast hit him harder than any fantasy. All the vague outlines he’d 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 wasn’t smiling for the camera, wasn’t posing — not really. She looked absorbed, thoughtful, distant. In that moment she wasn’t the chatterbox med student, wasn’t the girl in white-coat laughing at his jokes. She was… someone else. A grown up, private and unreachable.
Wilson’s throat went dry. For the first time since he’d 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 wouldn’t 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.
🩺
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 — 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 don’t need to make up excuses. I know you’re 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 I’m disposable to you since you’re considering running away forever. Are the piña coladas better than our coffees?
Her answer came quickly:
Never. I’ll be back tomorrow, professor. Try not to cry when you see me.
Masterlist / Index / Previous chapter / Next chapter
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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 he’d 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. “CAMERON DID WHAT? WITH WHOM?”
House was limping to the door of the diagnostics department, eyes wide, and barked:
“Wilson, come here. Right now!”
The oncologist hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to step into whatever spectacle House was staging this time.
“Now!” House snapped, jolting him out of indecision.
Wilson sighed and marched into the department, already crowded with the team - the male part, at least.
“Wanna guess what your little mischievous friend did?” 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:
“What friend?”
House huffed. “Short, thick, speaks funny… sounds like a bell? Oh! Recently we discovered she likes coochie.”
Wilson rubbed his face, weary. “What did she do this time that’s worth a meeting?” He was wary of Chase’s smugness. If this whole circus was just to announce she’d hooked up with Chase… Wilson would lose it.
“She kissed Cameron” Foreman said flatly.
Wilson blinked. That was unexpected. The words didn’t even seem to register in his brain.
“Cameron?” James repeated, for confirmation.
“Yeah. Quite the sight” Chase replied, smug.
“It wasn’t a kiss,” came a calm voice from the doorway. All heads turned as Cameron entered. “It was just a peck. A form of greeting.”
Foreman burst out laughing. “That’s what she said, and you went with it! Confess, Cameron: for her it was a demonstration, but you? You were curious.”
The immunologist pressed her lips shut, refusing to answer under the weight of everyone’s stares.
“Oh. My. God.” House drawled, resting his chin on his hand as if fascinated. “So, how was it? Enough to switch you?”
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 head…
“It was okay, I mean…” Cameron tilted her head, pretending to search for words. “If you like peachy skin, gentle hands, and soft breasts pressing against you… it’s a pleasant sensation.” She finished with a faint smile, looking victorious.
A mosquito could have dropped dead in the middle of the department, and they would’ve heard it.
“And to think Chase and Wilson were worried about each other when, in fact, they should be worried about you… way hotter like this, anyway.” House shook his head, then jabbed Wilson with his cane. “You’re awfully quiet, Jimmy. Taking notes?”
He wasn’t. His mind was fighting a battle of its own—trying 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 didn’t notice.
All he managed was: “This is none of my concern, House.”
“Oh, you’re pissed” House declared with a Machiavellian laugh. “You’re jealous, admit it. The puppy wags her tail for anyone who pets her.”
Wilson’s jaw flexed. His fingers dug into his palm inside his pocket, nails biting skin. “Don’t talk like that. She’s young and free. Now, don’t you guys have work? Because I do.” He strode toward the door.
“Stop…” House called after him. Wilson froze, shoulders rigid, holding the door open so Foreman and Chase could pass while he waited.
“Guess I’m not the only one she experiments with” Chase whispered just for Wilson, a devious smirk flashing for only a second before the Australian walked off.
Wilson’s 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.
“Are you adding something else, or can I shut the door in your face?” Wilson asked, voice tight, while House took his sweet time gathering files before finally heading over.
“I’ve got this patient. You should take a look—see if it really is what I think. Also, lunch at the same time today, right?” House shoved the files against Wilson’s 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.
🩺
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 wasn’t often the bearer of good news, and today it mattered even more. Because he wasn’t fully present — 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 — or pecked, whatever excuse she wanted to dress it up with. He could almost buy that. Almost.
But then there was Chase.
Guess I’m 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 would’ve bragged — wouldn’t he? That smug little smirk had lasted only a second, but Wilson had seen it. Felt it. And she… she would’ve slipped somehow, right? She wasn’t exactly cautious when it came to honesty.
Wouldn't she?
The thought made his stomach knot. He didn’t want to picture it. Didn’t want to imagine her mouth on Chase’s, 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 she’d make if—
“Stop.” 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 wasn’t 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 God’s 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:
“C’mon in.”
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:
“Hi, uh… sorry to bother.”
She looked around the space before setting her eyes warmly on Wilson again.
“I didn’t see you all morning and figured you might be busy. Maybe too busy to escape for lunch, so…”
He glanced at his watch — 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.
“I made brownies. Was planning to share eventually, over coffee, but I thought you might need them more now.”
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 wasn’t helping him keep it from getting worse. James stayed in his chair, afraid that standing would betray him. His body wasn’t nearly as disciplined as his voice.
“That’s incredibly sweet of you… literally.” 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? Wouldn’t that be crossing a line? Maybe he could — maybe this was the kind of friendship they had: warm, joyful, even open enough to be flirty without meaning anything.
Except friends shouldn’t be aroused over dirty thoughts of the other.
“It really made my day to know somebody is caring for me,” he said at last, choosing the safest thing that still carried warmth. Affection, but not too much. “And I will enjoy these, even though I was almost going to find my lunch date.” The last part came out dry, sarcastic: obvious hint at House. “Were you… waiting for me for lunch?” Wilson fumbled, bold against his better judgment.
Her cheeks pinked, and she looked away quickly.
“Oh, actually I’m having lunch with Cuddy. She asked me.” She swung slightly on her feet, restless. “I think we’re gonna discuss if I can shadow other doctors or not.” A small laugh escaped her, flat and nervous.
“Hey, relax. It’s going to work,” Wilson assured gently. “You’ve been phenomenal. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who multitasks like you.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes lifted back to his, searching. She bit her lip — not coy, but as if she were weighing something.
His skin prickled. His pulse tripped. And then she moved.
Not away. Straight to him.
“Alright, if you’re not coming to me, I am coming to you again.” 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 wouldn’t betray him.
Then she bent over his chair and wrapped her arms around him.
Their height difference vanished in the angle — 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.
“Are you coming?” she asked, already halfway through the door.
“I’ll be in a minute. You can go ahead,” he managed.
“Alright… but hey, don’t devour every brownie, okay? Save some for coffee time.” 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.
🩺
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 — 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.
“So, yes. I don’t have any problem with you exploring other areas of medicine while you’re here,” Cuddy said, turning back to the girl.
“Oh, thank you so much!” the girl lit up. “As you could see in my letter of presentation, I am highly inclined to pediatrics…”
“Actually, I’m having trouble finding your résumé.”
Wilson froze.
Shit.
“I’ve been looking the last few days since you first brought it up…” Cuddy went on, “but I must have misplaced it somewhere.”
House gasped theatrically, clutching his chest. “Unbelievable — the total disregard for an employee’s personal records.” He turned to the med-student. “You should sue.”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “I—I will do no such thing” she assured quickly, looking back at Cuddy.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, right, House?” Cuddy’s voice carried more accusation this time.
“I guarantee you, I neither have nor have ever had that file,” House said blandly, already eating the lunch Wilson had paid for.
That was, technically, partially true. Her archive had been sitting in Wilson’s drawer since House kidnapped it. It wasn’t like he was studying her. Yeah, he had read it once or twice, principally her professor’s recommendation letters. But once he was done, he kind of forgot.
He cleared his throat and forced himself to eat like nothing was wrong.
“Anyway,” Cuddy said, shifting tone, “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors by now, but the hospital is organizing a formal event next month. Generally, students, interns and residents aren’t invited, but since you’ve been going above and beyond, I wanted to offer you a seat.”
“Don’t be,” House cut in. “It’s just a bunch of filthy-rich old white guys having their egos massaged in exchange for giving us more money.”
“He’s just being sour,” Wilson interjected, glad for the distraction. “Our events are actually enjoyable, most of the time.”
“Said the rich, old, white guy” House muttered, smirking.
Wilson rolled his eyes. “As if I had a wing named after me. As I said — really good, except for those who hate tuxedos.”
“Oh, is that all about an insecurity problem? Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll look handsome.” The student poked the diagnostician.
“Will you hold my hand and tell me I’m pretty?” House retorted.
“Only if you are well-behaved.”
Wilson felt something like pride swell in his chest at her answer. She was growing claws — and House was letting her.
🩺
Wilson didn’t have her phone number yet, but he did have her pager. By 16:00, he sent:
Come to my office whenever you can.
It wasn’t 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 — 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 — if privacy was protection, or temptation.
But then she smiled, warm and bright, and the guilt eased just enough to let him breathe.
“Yes, master?” she said in her best Jeannie voice.
Wilson laughed. “Damn, no way that’s from your time.”
“Oh, shut up. It’s a classic.” She went on with him “So, what’s the page about?”
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. “Did I ever tell you that you are my hero?” she said, picking up the cup he’d handed her.
“Maybe once. Wouldn’t mind hearing it twice” he said, mock-pretentious.
She bumped his shoulder lightly. “I’ll save it for another opportunity. I don’t wanna make you cocky. But thank you, seriously. I needed a change of scenery.”
Truth was, so did he.
Ever since that last talk in the cafeteria, where she’d dragged her chair closer, his heart had pounded and for one dangerous second he’d almost leaned in, Wilson had been thinking about boundaries. Not just his, but hers.
If anything like that ever happened again and someone saw, she’d be the one paying for it — the gossip, the raised eyebrows, the rumors about how she’d “earned” his attention. He couldn’t stomach the thought.
At least here, they could talk without an audience. No gawkers, no whispers. Safe.
Or so he told himself.
“Yes, it was too crowded,” he admitted, suddenly aware how quiet his office felt now. “Figured it would be nice to have a more private place to talk.”
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.
“So” he said, grateful for a subject change, “I heard Saturday was wild…
She blinked, genuinely confused. “Was it? I mean, it was fun — I got drunk, we laughed a lot, but that was it. Didn’t even complete my actual mission for the night, if you remember what it was.” A faint blush crept up her neck.
“Oh, okay, if you don’t want to tell me…”
“I’d tell you if I had anything to tell!” She turned her head, then smirked. “Why don’t you tell me what you think you know, and maybe I’ll confirm — or not.”
“Well…” Now he was the one flushing. “Let’s just say I didn’t expect your ‘If I could I would be kissing and hugging everyone at this hospital’ to be so literal.”
She gasped. “Oh my god. I can’t believe they’re so mouthy!”
Wilson laughed. It was true: the hospital was basically a gossip mill.
“It wasn’t even a real kiss. I didn’t count it as one” she insisted. “I just— wow.”
“You really have been shaking things up around here,” he teased.
“I didn’t mean to! I told them, ‘I greet some of my friends with a peck in my country,’ and then they dared me. I didn’t think they’d remember.” She huffed, then squinted. “I mean, Cameron is way too straight for it to stick in her head… isn’t she?”
“She is. Probably. But Chase and Foreman are also way too straight for that,” Wilson chuckled.
She groaned.
“Anything else I should know before I embarrass myself further?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he said softly.
“Are you kidding? I’m glad it’s you I get to talk to about this, more than anyone else.”
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.
“I admire how easy-going and well liked you are” Wilson heard himself say — and didn’t even try to stop it. She gave him a sweet smile in return.
“You think so? Thanks. Took a lot of practice.”
“I don’t believe in you. It seems so natural.” She let out a dry, sarcastic laugh at his affirmation.
“When you’re 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.”
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.
“I 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.
“It’s okay, really” she said. “I got over it. And now look at me — funny, witty, allegedly charming. Who knew bullying could lead to character development?”
He chuckled, though there was an edge of dark to her humor he hadn’t heard before.“Also, I had a major glow-up. Physical and sporty. And apparently pretty privilege is real.” She gave him a sidelong glance that was half-daring. “So… what were you like in school and college?”
It was a lot to process — her past, her resilience, her sudden question. He stalled for time, licking his lips before finally answering:
“I feel like you need a hug” They both laughed, the heaviness breaking for a moment. “I was actually normal, I think - wait, that came out wrong” He flushed.
She laughed harder, doubling over and holding her stomach, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “No, no, please, continue”
“Fine.” Still a little embarrassed, he tried to finish. “I was well liked, but wouldn’t describe myself as popular.”
She huffed, mocking: “Yeah, right. Tall, strong and handsome would never be in the popular crew.” The med-studente wasn’t even looking at him when said it. She didn’t 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 “So… you think I am tall?”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes, still scanning the books. “Like you didn’t notice you’re six foot.” He suppressed a laugh over that snarky response. The girl didn’t notice he’d closed the distance until his voice rumbled close to her ear.
“Strong, too?” 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. “Yeah, another invariable feature. You know that — otherwise you wouldn’t roll up your sleeves to show off your biceps marking through the shirt… oh, stop flexing, Gaston!”
He was, in fact, flexing, and her mock-slap to his chest broke the tension into laughter.
But Wilson didn’t 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.
“Okay…” He wet his lips, weighing the next words. “Handsome, though — that’s pretty subjective.”
Her chest rose and fell a little faster. Her face flushed, her breath smelled like coffee and cinnamon. Wilson’s own breath hitched. He couldn’t have said what he was waiting for — 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.
“I guess you got me.” she said, voice unsteady. Her other hand came up to his arm, trailing the muscle light as silk.
“I do think you are tall.”
He’d 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.
“I think you are strong.”
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.
Wilson’s pulse lurched. He hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t 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 — God, was she actually going to—?
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 far— but he needed to know what she would say.
“And I do think you are disconcertingly attractive.”
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 — but the way she lingered there made his mind white out.
It wasn’t 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 she’d meant every word, but she was hiding behind the mask of a prank, of mock-flirting. Daring him to react.
“You- you little minx” he rasped, narrowing his eyes.
She broke then, laughing lightly, retreating just enough to relieve the pressure. “But you are handsome, James. There. Happy? You were just fishing for a compliment.”
He let go of her, now that she had smacked him on his arms again. “I was not.” His head was still spinning, confused. He paced around his office, leaning against his desk.
“You were! But that’s ok, next time you can just ask and don’t act so smug and ambush me.”
“Smug?” 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.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been called smug before.”
“Not by someone who just called me handsome, no.”
“Oh, you rascal.” She shook her head, laughing, but then started pacing again, her steps quick and aimless. Wilson caught the flicker of hesitation behind it. She wasn’t as light as she wanted him to believe.
“Oh, look at that!” she said suddenly, pointing at the glass door on the far side of the office. The one that led to the narrow balcony. “You have a leisure area all to yourself! A private bathroom, a balcony… how spoiled are you, big and important head of oncology?”
He gave a small laugh, following her gesture.
“It has its perks, but it’s not private, it connects to—”
Wilson’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened as the realization clicked: the balcony connected directly to House’s office.
He froze, pulse spiking, suddenly aware of the glass, the too-bright afternoon light spilling through it. Anyone could’ve 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. “—to House” 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.
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At Princeton-Plainsboro, Dr. James Wilson prides himself on being the kind one — 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?
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You caught the eyes of the most coveted boys in you house… but really, you didn’t 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?
“I’ve already told you, I am not going anywhere this hour Thalia” 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? Weren’t they supposed to be sliding down by now? “How are you two here?”
“A magician never tells” George blinked one eye as they entered your room without you permission.
“Hey, I didn’t let…”
“C’mom, princess. Everyone is waiting for you” Fred rushed.
“Why would anyone? I said, multiple times, I am not going”
They shrugged.
“I guess it’s fine by us… wouldn’t mind spending the night here, alone, with you” Fred said, taking a few steps on your direction. The hair in your body raised and you gulped. This wasn’t going well and you had a bad feeling. Feeling cornered, you took the steps back.
“I.. I am going to change” the boys smile at each other but didn’t 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.
“You look good” Fred wet his lips with his tongue. “It’s not a dress, like we hoped, but sure compliments your thighs” you blushed. Didn’t understand how the almost-boyfriend of your best friend felt the need to talk to you like that. And, by now you notice their clothes…
They were using the knit jumpers that every Weasley had. But George had a “F” on his chest, and Fred, the “G”. You were sure of that, had pass enough time being disturbed by then to tell the difference.
“Why did you guys exchange your sweaters?” They smiled.
“Look at that, George… know us so well” by now, Fred was dangerously close. You really didn’t understand why he was doing it and sure didn’t understand why the so called “possessive” George, would let him.
“It is sure adorable” George affirmed.
“I… I think we should go”
“That is a great idea” 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.
“Hey, babe” you didn’t 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.
“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked at Fred, at the same time Taly had let go of George and was now leaning against his shoulders “Thalia, you got the wrong twin. That is George”
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.
“Damn girl, who do you think you’re fooling? I know my man well enough. And besides, if he-” she pointed at man behind you “was Fred and was holding you like this, we would be throwing fists” your eyes widened.
“She tried to make a joke. But Angel, this is really not your strongest spot” 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.
“Relax, my love, we are going to have fun” Fred said again. He didn’t loosened his grip a little bit when you to shrug him off.
“I-I don’t understand” you said, trying to turn around and look at him. He allowed you to “I thought… that you liked Taly” his condensed demi-laugh was enough of a response “and that George liked me…”
“Well, you are half correct. George does like you… and so do I”
“But… you are brothers”
“So what? We don’t mind sharing.”
“But I do mind this… this situation!” Fred suppressed a laugh “And Taly…” 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.
“Do not worry your pretty head about anything. We are going to take care of everything… of you.” He took your hands and brought to his neck “Now, dance with me”
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.
“Do 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?”
“Don’t talk about her like that!” You defend, so angry your teeth showed. “I thought you were friends, at least”
“Don’t get me wrong… it’s 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 bjs…” you tried to push him again. He suppress a laugh and continue “but she is not you. And it has been hell having to be with her, when all I wanted was to be… here” 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.
“Stop it!” You urge, but he only crushed you more against the wall. Embarrassment took your body, knowing damn well that this kind of “intimacy” in this public space would create comments in the next morning.
“You have no idea of the things I would do to you” he lowered his head til it was face to face. “C’mon, give me a kiss” 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 didn’t 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.
“Don’t play games with me. You think you can get away with this bratty behavior? I am no George.” 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. “Apologize. Now.”
“I will not. You should leave me alone.”
“I think I’m gonna need to teach you some manners…”
“Hey, couple. Maybe you should get a room” both of you were so immersed in you own discussion, didn’t even notice Taly and George approach. “Wow, your lip is swollen, George. Damn, girl. Getting savage, aren’t you?”
“She sure is, Thalia. Never could imagine before.” Fred answered before you could. “Would you mind fetching us some drinks?”
“No problem” she kissed George and said “I’ll be quick” and left. Now you were alone, again, with both.
“You spoiled her.” Fred accused
“Me?”George asked, shocked.
“You are too easy on her, don’t discipline enough. Look at this stunt she pulled” the older twin pointed to his own lip.
“So what, can’t take a bite now?”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not even here!” You almost screamed “This is insane! And… and your behavior is unacceptable” they were both looking at you, right now. Like you’ve grown a second head or something.
“Know what? You’re right. I’m gonna be direct from now on” Fred said and George raised an eyebrow “Taly 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.” You clenched you jaw and your eyes went watery, both from anger and fear.
“Fred, take it easy. She needs time to adjust…” George half-plead
“Uhum. Let’s continue with your way, see how great it turned out till now.” The sarcastic tone shown how pissed he was.
“You are an asshole! I’m not something… someone that needs discipline. I have will” 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 “See?”.
“Angel, don’t…”
“Don’t what? He is clearly evil and you don’t buy me with the condescending tone. You are no better than him. But honestly…” George eyes were wide open, you turned your face so you could look at Fred again. It didn’t matter how much you had pushed him through the discussion, he just wouldn’t let go of your waist “You are sadist”
“Damn, am I in the wrong timing?”
“Never, dear” George answered, so out of the Fred character that even Taly furrowed her eyebrows. “I mean…”
“Thank you for the drinks, Taly.” Fred took one, and frowned as he looked at it “What’s this again?”
“Gigglewater. They ran out of firewhiskey and, honestly, butterbeer wouldn’t hit so fast” she shrugged “I can change, if it’s not of your taste.
“No, I imagine. Was just confirming.” Fred answered politely “Good choice, honestly. Here, honey” he brought the beverage to your lips, but you stopped midway.
“I am not drinking it. I’ve said multiple times I do not like alcohol”
“Buuuu! Don’t be so lame” Thalia boomed.
“C’mon dear, you need to experience new things. You’ve never had this drink, how come you not like it?” Fred tried to be persuasive “And besides, you said it yourself that you’re thirsty”
You hadn’t 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 wasn’t Taly’s first choice to get wasted, so it shouldn’t 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.
“The taste is go-” you weren’t 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. “What…” you couldn’t 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 couldn’t feel angry and stay angry. You couldn’t feel anxiety, couldn’t feel fear nor despair. It was just… too funny.
“Oh, my love. Everything alright?” Fred asked. You smiled. You face relaxed after being on a “mad-face” all night.
“I am…” you were violently fight the effects of the gigglewater, but was loosing it anyhow. Even so, you restrained from talking to much “fine”
“I can see that” Thalia said, eyeing you up and down “don’t worry. Just let it go” she said, really reassuring you “We all know how much you are naturally anxious. Just… enjoy”
The flush of calmness and giggles hit you hard. Fred was basically holding you up right now.
“Damn. That really did well”
“I know” Taly said, taking a sip of her drink.
“What are you on? It’s not the same as her.” George accused.
“Oh, me?” Taly pointed at herself “It’s butterbeer. I don’t drink that shit. Learned my lesson a long time” she shook, like the memory was painful “But I am here to take care of her through it and don’t let her near any harm. And so are you, guys. It’s three people taking care of one. Nothing can go wrong.”
“You are so right, Taly” Fred said. You felt joy, you were not used to being taken care of.
“And you are such a good friend” George said, hugging her from behind a kissing her in the cheek. Isn’t that adorable? You thought.
They noticed that you started giggle, Thalia approached you, took your hands and asked “Do you wanna dance?”
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:
“Do NOT let go of her” she pointed at the man behind you “and do NOT let her out of your sight” she turned to George.
“I will not” both of them respond together.
❤️♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️
They never seen you so relaxed. Without a care in the world, you danced, a smile permanently stamped on your lips, eyes that didn’t 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 Fred’s lap.
For a moment he had to control his face as if he wasn’t just about to cum in the spot. He could let you go, didn’t had to go through this kind of embarrassment. But you were so delicious. So willing. Fred’s eyes met George’s for a moment and it said, clearly, what his twins thoughts were “Lucky bastard”.
But right now, you were turned face to face. And he really felt like a lucky bastard. Dancing so close he didn’t distinguish his breath from yours. The bulge in his pant were becoming unbearable, but he didn’t 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 “He is missing the steps”
“Sorry, doll” he would’ve 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.
“I’m gonna get another beer. Want some?”
“No, thanks”
“Alright. Do NOT lose her while I’m gone”
“Dude, do you really think this is a warn you need to give me?” Fred exasperated and Thalia laughed.
And then, there was George.
“Mate, what do you think you are doing?” George asked Fred.
“Don’t know what do you mean”
“You don’t…? Aren’t you supposed to danced just a little and then went to her bedroom?”
“Yes but… she seems to be enjoy it. Have you saw her like this before?” George looked at you. Practically being carried by Fred from tiredness. But was smiling, really adorable.
“Enjoying? Yes, because she is wasted! It’s been more than a hour and the effects of the gigglewater are gonna start to fade.”
“Brother, relax. I’ve got everything under control. Just a couple more minutes and we will go.” George huffed.
“Alright, anyone can see that you are almost fucking her in the dance floor.”
“Fuck is such a awesome world” you said and started to repeat the world again and again.
“Calm down, Georgie.” Fred tried to appease
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK” you screamed and Fred covered your mouth, he sure didn’t expect that. You started to giggle again.
The twins noticed a couple of looks. Damn, so much for laying under attention.
“She’s a little drunk” Fred explained to no one in particular “alright…” he turned to George “we are going”
“Oh, but now?” Thalia said, coming out of nowhere.
“Yes. I’m getting really tired -didn’t think your friend was capable of worn me out but…” Fred looked at George, expecting help, that didn’t came. “And I don’t really think that leaving her with just the two of you are going to turn out great. So I’m gonna take her to bed…” Taly seemed astonished at that.
“Oh, no need! I can take her…”
“Please, Taly. I’m practically carrying her weight, you won’t be able to” she seemed like objecting but George cut her before.
“We know you are strong. But let my brother handle this. I have other thoughts on how you can waste your energy” 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 “you got to be kidding me”, he thought
“Hey Weasley, be a gentleman!”
“I always am” 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.
“Alright love, how about you change you clothes to some nice PJs? Fred suggested, picking you up the floor by your hips.
“I think that’s a good idea” 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, couldn’t 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 “Why are you here?”
“Because I’m gonna sleep here” he answered, half laughing.
“But it’s the girls dormitory, a silly” 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. “If you are going to sleep here, where are you PJs?”
He never took his own trousers so quickly. “Here, see. Like yours” that made you laugh even harder. His head was spinning, trying to work fast “Want to do something that is really cool?”
“What?” You asked with enthusiasm.
“Come here” Fred offered his hands so you could stand up. You did, and the followed as he guided you to your own bed.
It wasn’t for a couple, like he had pictured, but it wasn’t 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 wasn’t 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.
“There, princess, so good.” His words made you feel joy. Fred had been complimented you for all night long, calling you beautiful.
“Not exactly what I would called cool” you said
“Oh, yeah? How about if you give me a kiss, like you did downstairs? It was fun, wasn’t it?” you nod, he hugged your waist with one arm, and, with the other hand he put behind your neck “Come here”. 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 Fred’s 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.
“Yes, like this, love. Ain’t it nice? I mean, fun?” You didn’t 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.
“The sounds you make… for Merlin, you are so delicious” 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 couldn’t 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. “I just wanna see your body melting above me” Fred said. And you swore you would.
It was just so good… until it wasn’t.
Shame started to cripple to your cheeks. You were becoming aware of yourself again.
“I… I.” You tried to speak out loud but couldn’t. Of course that your mind coming back to its normal wouldn’t 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 didn’t had any pants on? And your panties were WET?
Fred didn’t had any pants either. How far would he go? You didn’t understand how you let all that happen, but it needed to stop.
“I think I need a break” you could see Fred frowning as he raised his head.
“What? Why?” But was when his eyes meet yours that he saw: the fog just wasn’t there anymore. He hit a perfectly good spot while trusting against your middle and you squeaked once again, almost folding forward. “Oh, my love. Right now, I’m not gonna stop until you drip your last drop of cum on my cock”.
“No…” with the force that you had left, you tried to push his chest, but of course he didn’t 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 “Fred…” but it was just too late. He made sure of pressing just the right spot and all the tension started to turning relief. “AH!” You couldn’t stop shaking, and little spasms took control over you whole body.
“Yes, say my name like that again. Fuck!” Even you still going through your orgasm, Fred continue with the movements. “Almost there…” You eyes filled up with water, involuntarily. It was just too much. Your knickers were soaked with your own juices and the continue friction wasn’t 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 “Yes! Fuck!”.
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. “My love, that was so worth the wait.” You didn’t answer to him “You came so pretty. God, I’m gonna keep thinking about it for a long time.” 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 “Damn. It’s just keeping getting better”. You looked at yourself at that. You knew you knickers were soaked but you didn’t 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 “click” 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 that’s his own tights and lower part of his shirt were humid too, and so was his underpants -but of course you couldn’t distinguish how much of that was him and what were you.
“No, please, you can’t…” you eyes filled up with embarrassment.
“Shhh, it’s okay. None of that. It’s for my eyes only… and George’s, of course. But I’m not gonna waving it around” 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. “Let’s go to bed, hun? It was a long day.” Fred said. You cleared you throat:
“I’m gonna take a shower”
“No.” You look at him, surprised stamped in you face “You are going to sleep just like that. I need to feel and scent your smell a little more.” You were just so tired, and sore, and really didn’t want him to have any extra ideas so you just said:
“I really need to pee”
“Of course. Go ahead. But leave the door opened” 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 “That’s enough” 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 didn’t 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 else’s work and pass it off as our own.
Please add on if you know any more resources for free images <3
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Word Counter - Not only does it count the number of words you’ve 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 can’t 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.
Writer’s 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 - It’ll 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>
