Chapter One
Deborah has done a lot of solo work throughout her career. Of course she had assistance from Marcus and Damien to figure out logistics, scheduling, and merchandising. When it comes to her comedy, though, she’s mostly been on her own. She bounced jokes off of her team, but she wrote her own material, and the stage was always hers. Until Ava, of course, which certainly came with growing pains. But that was nothing compared to working on a show with a whole crew of people. It requires an ungodly amount of teamwork, something she’s never particularly enjoyed, especially on this scale. Everything has to be approved on a thousand levels and she’s reminded constantly of the things she can’t say on national television. The amount of cooperation it takes is insane, and everyday feels like an exercise in patience, something that she is notoriously lacking in.
While she’s grateful beyond belief to finally have her own show, the minutiae of it still pisses her off everyday.
As her head writer, Ava does her best to keep things light. Deborah knows that Ava tries to play middleman, with her awkward sense of humor and ability to provide more of a “safe space” than Deborah ever could. Hell, everyone seems to know by the way that they always get Ava to relay bad news. The entire staff has figured out that Deborah won’t lose her mind if the information is coming from Ava. And Deborah will give it to her, Ava is shockingly good at bringing her back down when she's ready to launch into a tirade. Sometimes Ava’s ability to bring the temperature down so quickly almost makes Deborah wish that she could hang on to the seething anger for just a little bit longer, just for old times’ sake, as an ode to her former self.
Nonetheless, she trudges through never-ending meetings, sometimes visibly gritting her teeth through them. When she’s told that she can’t do something or that a joke is a little too risque for TV, she still feels the familiar feeling of rage simmering through her, threatening to boil over. When someone is particularly bothersome, she even lets herself go as far as daydreaming about how to threaten them with some ridiculous lawsuit. But it turns out that Ava is a sort of balm to all of her harshest feelings, able to soothe even the worst of it away. Just when she thinks she’s going to revert to her old ways and fly off the handle, maybe throw something across the room, she’ll think of Ava, or be reminded of her, and all the anger will evaporate. She’ll scroll through her photos in a meeting and see the picture of the two of them together at Christmas with Cara and Barry. Or Ava’s name will pop up on her phone (Ava had changed it to 🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵 and Deborah won't change it back because it's so stupid and lewd that she can’t help but to find it funny). Or she’ll see someone walking around the office with a drink that looks like the green sludge that Ava loves so much. And just like that, her sense of peace is restored, or she’s at least backed off from the ledge.
When something leaves her feeling particularly bitter, she’ll remind herself how awful she felt after throwing giant geodes and crystals (which she did in fact pay for, plus the cost of cleaning her mess up, thank you very much) at Ava’s head. She’ll thank God, or whoever the fuck else is out there in the universe, that Ava’s reflexes were firing on all cylinders that day; she could have killed her, for fuck’s sake. She’ll breathe through the guilt that seeps in and she’ll do the whole self reflecting that she’d never been any good at. Eventually, she’ll do something that would have been unimaginable a few years ago; she’ll let it go and move on. That’s on growth, or whatever it is that Ava says to talk about the ways that Deborah has changed.
But sometimes, even after all of the anger has drained out of her, she’s left with some kind of tension in its place. She feels like a string that’s been wound too tightly - fragile, unstable, and ready to break at the slightest bit of added tension. It’s like she’s simultaneously deflated and also ready to burst. Maybe it’s her body waiting for the satisfaction that used to come with her old habit of monstrous vengeance. She had been so damn good at getting even, and old habits die hard. She’s not the same person anymore, though. So, instead of seeking out life-ruining revenge, she turns to Ava.
Turns out that there are other things that she’s so damn good at.
The first time, she pins Ava to the left of the front door, right where Ava had greeted her, and fucks her until she comes on her fingers. Twice.
The second time, within 10 minutes of being home, Ava is falling apart while Deborah, who is 3 fingers deep in her, hovers over her on the Liberace couch.
The third time, Deborah had come home and told Ava that her day was filled with annoyances that she would like to forget. Apparently, by this point, Ava had noticed the pattern, because she had responded by grabbing Deborah’s hips and walking her backwards until she had pressed her against the wall.
Ava had asked, “would this help you forget?”, while she got down on her knees and ran her hands up Deborah’s thighs. And yes, Ava’s mouth had made her forget all about the day. Hell, she’d almost forgotten her own name.
Today is a little different, though. She can’t seem to shake the fury. Today, she is mad. Really mad. So much so that she has to try to stop her hands from shaking by sliding them under her thighs. A man had interrupted one of the young interns and it immediately had her seeing red. Maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as she made it out to be, but it reminded her of all the Drews and Iras out there who always seem to think that some young woman owes them something, or that what they have to say is more important than anything a woman ever could. She had called him out, asked him if he would’ve interrupted a man, then things got awkward. It only heightened her feelings when another man tried to jump in to defend him. She eventually settled on asking him to leave and scheduling a meeting with HR. She thought it was so very civil of her, given that what she really wanted to do was deck him across the face with her laptop. She’d resorted to thinking of Ava to bring her back down. It had kept her from leaping across the table, but when it’s all said and done and the meeting is over, she’s still pissed.
She compounds her anger by ruminating on it all day. It leaves her feeling absolutely incensed, because how the fuck is she still seeing the same shit she dealt with 40 years ago? The only reason it isn’t directed much at her anymore is because her reputation precedes her, and most people in the business have learned that Deborah Vance is not one to cross. But for the many young women trying to walk up her marble staircase, they’re still stuck dealing with the same things Deborah, and so many others, had endured. By the time the day is done, she feels like tea that's steeped for entirely too long - much too bitter to be palatable.
Before she leaves the office, she takes a moment to sit at her desk. She does her best to shake the day off so that she doesn’t come home in a pissy mood. She doesn’t do that shitty thing where she gets mad and takes it out on other people anymore, but it’s a hard habit to break. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. She thinks of the things that soothe her: the rush of a joke landing perfectly, spending insane amounts of money on antiques. She thinks of Ava. She thinks of seeing Ava cuddled up on the couch with Carry and Barry, all of them sleeping peacefully. She thinks of the way she’d held Ava as she floated, before this thing between them had even really started. She thinks of Ava’s lips, her long fingers, her freckled skin in the sun - all of her. Then she remembers Ava’s voice, practically feels the ghost of her whisper against her ear.
“I love it when you’re rough with me. I … sometimes I’d like you to be even rougher.”
“I want you to spank me.”
“I want you to bend me over the bed and make me take all of you while you call me a good girl.”
She replays everything that Ava had said when they were in the bathtub together. She feels a longing that completely replaces her anger. She feels hungry, starving even. Hearing Ava saying those things had made her want them too. Now, though, she feels desperate for it. The intensity of her desire makes her shiver. That familiar ache finds its way between her legs and unmoors her. She needs Ava. She needs the rush that comes with Ava trusting her so completely that she’ll let Deborah be in full control.
She needs to get home.
She makes her way out of the office, sneaking around anyone that she knows would try to stop and talk to her. When she makes it outside, she sits in her Rolls and texts Ava.
Deborah: Do you have plans tonight?
She sees the typing bubble pop up almost immediately.
🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵: I was thinking about getting a 20 pc nug from Mc Ds. Does that count?
She laughs and rolls her eyes.
Deborah: No plans, got it.
🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵: Why, were you gonna make me bathe Cara and Barry again? I know you like to see me struggle with them, but I really wish you would just call the groomer. You're rich ffs.
She laughs, then bites her lip as she types.
Deborah: No, it's not that. There’s something I want to do. Something I think you’ll like.
She sees Ava start typing, then stop, then start again.
🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵: OMG WAIT.
🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵: IS THIS YOU SEXTING ME RN?
She reads Ava’s rapid fire texts and smirks before responding.
Deborah: You know I always read that as Registered Nurse. How much longer could it possibly take to type “right now” instead?
🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵: Can you just answer the question?!?!
Deborah: I’ll be home in 30.
🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵: Okay, this is def sexting.
🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵: I’m not gonna be able to focus at all now.
Deborah: Wow. That’s so out of the ordinary for you.
🫦🔥💥Ava💦🍆🥵: You know I have diagnosed ADHD! I can’t help it!
She laughs, starts the car, and heads home.
Behind the wheel, she thinks about this new dynamic between her and Ava. Their power dynamic and its effect on Ava was obvious from the very beginning. It wasn't lost on Deborah that Ava seemed to garner some sense of satisfaction from Deborah being stern with her, even sometimes outright mean. And from the first time they met, there was the way that Ava looked at her - like she believed the sun rose and set in Deborah. For so long, Deborah had given her crumbs to live on. Little hints that maybe she felt the same way, but with enough room for interpretation that she could always deny it. Then there was that moment between them when everything had shifted. A chaste first kiss that quickly turned heated and left them both breathless. After that, there was no denying that the spark between them was meant to catch flame.
Since Deborah has tied Ava up, they're now overtly acknowledging and putting a name to something that they'd both wanted: dominant and submissive. Deborah the former and Ava the latter. Now they both talk about what they want in a way that’s so open and brand new to Deborah. She's still learning to let go of her shame, but just seeing the way Ava's cheeks turn pink when she tells her what she wants to do to her is very good encouragement.
The closer she gets to home, the more her heart races. She needs to see Ava desperate and begging for her. She needs to feel the impact of her palm on soft skin. She needs to see how Ava will react to the impact, what shades of pink and red it’ll turn her perfect skin. By the time she pulls the Rolls in front of the house, she’s wet and ready to pounce on Ava. But she loves to play it cool with Ava and draw it out. So, when she walks in, she gives off a nonchalant attitude. She wants Ava to wonder if maybe she wasn’t trying to sext her after all.
She’s kneeling down to greet Cara and Barry when she hears Ava yelling.
“Deb? Is that you?”
“No, it’s Santa,” she yells back, walking towards the sound of Ava’s voice.
“Fuck off,” Ava shouts through a laugh. “Like you don’t have a thousand people that work in this house on a daily basis.”
Deborah finally finds her in the sitting room that she’d asked her if she was a lesbian in. It feels like some kind of comical foreshadowing because now Deborah is making her way to sit in the opposite chair that she'd been sitting in when she asked. The irony is multiplied because her own answer to the question has completely changed.
“What're you doing in here?” she asks Ava as she lowers herself into the chair.
“I was trying to educate Cara and Barry about tipping culture, but they heard you come in and abandoned me.”
“God, I think euthanasia would've been kinder,” she replies, making Ava roll her eyes and huff out a laugh.
Then they go quiet and Deborah just stares at her. She refuses to give in and bring up her texts first, and to her delight, Ava quickly caves. Ava's never good at these silent moments and Deborah loves to use it to her advantage.
“So you wanted to do something?” Ava asks, her eyebrows raised.
“Did I say that?” Deborah answers, barely able to hide her smirk.
“Damn, memory loss already? But you're so young!” Ava says, and it makes Deborah cackle in a way that leaves her breathless.
“Hush and come over here,” Deborah says when she finally composes herself.
She sees the smug look come over Ava’s face. She watches Ava close the short distance between them and looks into her eyes as she straddles her and lowers herself onto Deborah’s lap. For a moment, they just look at one another, Ava’s fingers toying with the baby hairs on the back of Deborah’s neck. Ava always looks at Deborah like it’s a privilege to even just exist in the same universe, but when they’re close like this, Ava looks positively awestruck. It makes Deborah’s pulse quicken, and she can’t fight the smile that makes its way onto her lips. Ava makes her feel truly seen in a way that no one else ever has.
She reaches her hand up to cup Ava’s cheek. The contact makes Ava’s eyes heavy and she tilts her cheek into Deborah's touch. Deborah says the only thing that she can think of:
“My precious girl.”
It’s an old-timey kind of compliment and the kind that Ava loves. Probably because it seems like something Carol would say. She watches Ava smile, then turn to press a kiss into her palm. It’s just a brush of lips against skin, but she feels it throughout her entire body. Ava leans forward, her chest flush against Deborah’s, and Deborah feels Ava leaving a trail of soft kisses against the sensitive skin below her ear. She sighs into Ava’s neck and smiles when Ava whispers, “what was it that you wanted to do?”
Deborah moves forward just enough to bite at Ava’s earlobe. She hears Ava’s sharp inhale and feels it in her lower belly.
“You said you wanted me to be rough with you,” she whispers. She feels Ava shiver and briefly thinks about how miraculous it had felt to find out that shivering isn’t just a reaction to the cold. “You said …” she pauses to kiss Ava’s neck and move her tongue from the base of her neck to her ear, then continues, “that you wanted me to spank you.”
It makes Deborah grin to feel Ava’s hands balling the fabric at her shoulders. Watching Ava react feels almost as delicious as making her come.
“Is that something you still want?” Deborah asks, trailing her hands up Ava’s back.
“Yes,” Ava whispers into her ear, drawing it out like a hisses.
Ava pulls back to look at her and Deborah sees that smoldering look in her eyes. She sees Ava's eyes flicking down to her lips and notices that her cheeks are already flushed. She brings her hand up to the front of Ava's neck and holds it there. It makes her think of when Ava had asked to be choked, of how Ava's neck felt beneath her hands as she squeezed just a little harder and made Ava come. Ava seems to be just as dazzled by it now - Deborah watches her eyes flutter closed and sees the slight arching of her back, pushing herself into Deborah's hand.
“Mmm,” Deborah hums her appreciation. “Just what am I gonna do with you?”
Ava grins, lets out a huff of air, and opens her eyes again.
“Well, you could take me upstairs,” Ava tells her, fluttering her eyelashes and mocking a shyness that looks completely unnatural on her.
“I could,” Deborah responds, moving her hand from Ava's neck and letting it trail down to Ava's thigh, her thumb caressing small circles inches away from where Ava's probably already wet. “But, you were just torturing my dogs. Seems like that would just be rewarding bad behavior.”
Ava smirks like Deborah has just given her exactly what she wanted and played right into this little game. “Would you rather punish me instead?”
Deborah grins, happy to play into Ava's hand if it means she gets to be the one to bend Ava over her bed. “I think that sounds more fitting. Don't you?”
Ava bites her lip and nods, her eyes flicking down to watch Deborah's thumb against her jean-clad thigh.
There is a sweetness in the way that Ava watches her that makes Deborah hesitate. She's slapped Ava once before, and she doesn't want this to be anything like that.
She swallows, then says, “I know you said you wanted this, but it's okay if you've changed your mind.”
Ava looks up at her, confusion showing on her face. “What? No, I definitely still want this.” Deborah nods in response, but apparently Ava can sense her sudden discomfort. She brings her hands to Deborah’s cheeks, uses her thumbs to caress her. “Hey,” she says, her voice sweet and soft. “This is nothing like that, okay? That was a whole different thing.” She briefly thinks about how Ava’s ability to read her is incredible. She trusts Ava enough to know that she means what she’s saying and it comforts her, bringing her back from her momentary worry that she’s doing this all wrong. She nods into Ava’s hands and brings her hands to her waist, then tightens her grip there slightly.
“Take me upstairs?” Ava asks her, and there’s a slight whine in her voice that makes Deborah smile.
“You’re sure?” she asks one more time.
“Very sure. Like 100%, enthusiastically consent kind of sure,” Ava says, her own smile beaming back at Deborah.
“Then lead the way, baby.”