A/N: this has been on my mind all week... and deep isn't even my favorite character!! i hope this reaches some of his fans though. please enjoy!
Tags: headcanons, dub-con, overstim, p in v, coercion, oral (m receiving), slight watersports, choking and breathplay
Wordcount: 1k
Porn-brained Deep who refuses to ever use lube.
He doesn't believe in it, thinks it's a crutch, that it's insulting. "We don't need that, babe. I can get you wet enough by myself," he would say, giving your clit a smack. He would spit all over your pussy, just like they do in the dirty films he loses himself in at night.
When he finally aligns himself with your cunt and shoves his way in, he groans at the resistance. "Give it a second," he would say through clenched teeth, eyebrows pinching together. He fucks into you anyways, ignoring your pained whines. Once you adjust to his size and give up on trying to get him to stop, your body relaxes just a bit and your pussy forms a precious little creamy ring around his cock, slicking him up nice and good. "What'd I say, huh? Always getting wet for me."
Porn-brained Deep who grows obsessed with the idea of choking you during sex.
The girls in the videos he watches love it, so he tries it without warning. At first, his hand just wraps around your throat enough to hold you in place, keeping you anchored against the bed while he pummels his cock into you.
Unfortunately, he did zero actual research on safe breathplay and pushes down further on your throat, nearly crushing your windpipe. He sees the way you squirm and assumes it's because of how much you love it, so he adds his other hand, stupidly unaware of how strong he actually is.
"Fuck, your face is getting so red, baby. Must really like this." He shoves his tongue into your breathless mouth, stealing what little bit of air you have left. "Didn't know you were such a freak."
Porn-brained Deep who is personally offended when you can't squirt for him.
He takes it as a slight against him, as if he isn't fucking you well enough. He thinks squirting is just the female equivalent of ejaculating, so when you tell him you came but he didn't see you squirt, he thinks you're lying to save his feelings and he doesn't like that one bit.
He's folded your legs to your chest, pushing them the farthest they can go. One hand is planted on your lower belly, pushing down on where his cock is hitting, and the other is abusing your clit. "I'm not fucking pathetic, I don't need you to lie to me. I can make you cum whenever I want," he would say, mostly to himself, as you are a lost cause—nothing but a sobbing mess at this point.
"Can't do it anymore," you managed to shriek, feeling your eighth orgasm creep down your spine. It's not enough for him. It's not real if he can't see it. "Please, no more! F—fuck!"
He clamps his hand over your mouth to shut you up and lifts your lower body up with his other hand. This angle lets him hit even deeper, abusing the spot that aches for him. He's also managing to hit your bladder, too, though, and with each thrust, little sprays of piss leak out of your sore cunt.
"That's it," he would goad, pulling his dick out and smacking it against your sopping pussy. "You're gonna keep fuckin' squirting for me until I'm done. You've been holding out on me."
Porn-brained Deep who treats you like a doll.
He moves you in any position he wants, pulling and shoving you like you're weightless. If he wants you face down and ass up, then that's how he'll maneuver you. He rips your legs apart without a care, sliding himself between your thighs like it's his rightful place.
"Take it," he would coo. "Every inch, now. Don't squeeze me out."
He's rooted behind you, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, slamming into you at a murderous pace. When you try to catch your breath and lift your head, he smothers your face back into the pillow, using his foot on the back of your head.
He degrades you physically and praises you verbally, giving you whiplash and keeping you dizzy, drenched, and dumb on his cock.
Porn-brained Deep who doesn't let you swallow his cum.
When you blow him, he refuses to let you swallow. That's too clean, he wants you messy.
Sometimes, he makes you slowly drool it out so he can watch it pool down your neck and chest.
Sometimes, he wants you to blow bubbles with it, drooling over his balls and slicking them up with his own diluted cum.
Sometimes, he kisses you right after and steals his own cum from your mouth, swishing it around with his saliva before spitting it back out onto your face with a dazed smirk.
Most of the time, though, he takes hold of your hand, brings it to your own mouth, and tells you to spit. He lets go of your wrist and nods. You know exactly what to do.
You bring the messy hand to your cunt and smear it all over, coating your folds with his cum.
"Don't forget—yeah, good," he would hum, watching you shove your cum covered fingers into your hole. "Good girl, that's right. Fuck it back inside."
Porn-brained Deep who forces you to watch videos with him.
"See that? Don't you wanna be a nasty girl just like her?"
Cum funnels, gangbangs, anal, double penetration, all of it. Anything sick, perverted, or icky is his holy grail.
He slowly pets your pussy, mentally taking note of which scenes make your panties wetter and which ones make your clit throb under his touch. When a video of a woman tied up to the bed pops up, a vibrator assaulting her helpless cunt, he feels your pussy twitch.
"Yeah?" He looks over at you, an eyebrow raised. "You like that?" He rubs you more purposefully, focusing on your swollen clit.
"I guess my baby's getting to be just as gross as I am, huh?"
HELLO, I really appreciate finding someone to write about Dr. House currently, I love the way you write since it seems that you really have a gift to do it, you are so precise and you make me feel like it were a moment, well, I wonder if you could do some fic about House (or anyone from the medical diagnosis department) that is inspired by the song "Every Breath You Take" by The Police, I would appreciate your answer <3 (sorry for my bad English)
I'll Be Watching You
Greg House x Female Doctor Reader
Summary: Doctor Y/N L/N was a member of House's diagnostic team, but he had always longed for something more.
TW: Boss/Employee relationship, age gap, House being a softie.
Y/N L/N was an extraordinary doctor and had quickly become an asset to House's team since he hired her. House had always been an incredibly observant person, but something about Y/N captivated him. Y/N seemed to see the best in every person or situation that she came across and he had never seen her upset or angry since meeting her.
Y/N had an unmatched ability to lift up the people around her when they were down, regardless of the situation. Y/N was incredibly helpful when it came to dealing with disagreeable family members, always delicate and tactful as she encouraged them to persure the treatment that House had recommended.
House found himself fascinated by Y/N, watching her whenever he could as she moved through the world. Her smile was infectious, brightening up the days of whoever was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of it.
Y/N was incredibly intelligent, but he knew that her naivety about the good intentions of others would get her into trouble someday. House sat in his office, staring into the conference room through the glass as he tapped his cane on the floor rhythmically. Y/N sat at the table, flipping through various patient files to choose the team's next case.
House ran his eyes over her body, lingering on her fingers as she twirled her pen absentmindedly. House's eyes drifted to the hallway as Wilson walked by the conference room, turning his chair when Wilson stepped into his office.
"If you stare any harder, she may just burst into flames," Wilson said.
"I wasn't staring," House stated.
"You were staring," Wilson replied, sitting down on the chair in front of his desk.
"Is there something you needed or did you just come here to argue with me?" House asked.
"I wanted to talk to you about Y/N," Wilson said.
"What about her?" House asked, glancing over into the conference room briefly.
"I wanted to ask her to be my date to the gala tonight," Wilson said.
"Why are you asking me and not her? Would've been a shorter walk," House stated.
"You clearly have some weird fascination with her... I just didn't want to step on any toes if you were planning on asking her," Wilson said, holding up his hands in surrender.
"I wasn't," House replied, spinning his cane in his hand.
"Maybe you should," Wilson suggested.
"You're an idiot," House deadpanned.
"I think she'd be good for you. She's kind, smart and she puts up with your nonsense on a daily basis... Also, the staring thing is starting to get a little weird," Wilson said.
House scoffed, "I don't stare," He snapped.
"Yeah, you do. It's honestly a mystery that she hasn't caught you in the act yet," Wilson replied.
Y/N looked up from her file and Wilson watched as House's gaze shifted away from her easily. Y/N sent a polite wave to Wilson when their eyes met, a gentle smile settling on her lips before she returned to her paperwork.
"I'm asking her," Wilson said, standing up from the chair.
"Go for it," House replied.
Wilson didn't reply, making his way over to the glass door and stepping into the conference room. House watched as Wilson approached her, engaging in a brief exchange of words before he returned to his office.
House felt the simmering warmth of jealousy as it settled in the bottom of his stomach. He tried to be impartial, but it was beginning to backfire on him.
...
House lingered by the makeshift bar in the lobby of Princeton Plainsboro. He shifted uncomfortably in his suit, the bow tie around his neck feeling tight as he breathed.
Various hospital staff and donors mingled while soft music played through the speakers. Cameron and Chase chatted nearby while Foreman spoke to a young blonde woman on the other side of the lobby. Y/N and Wilson hadn't arrived yet, but House found himself feeling restless as he waited for them.
He straightened up, grip tightening on the handle of his cane when Wilson and Y/N approached the door. Wilson opened the door for her, allowing her to step into the lobby first before following closely behind her.
She was an absolute vision in a light blue dress that hugged her body perfectly. Her hair was styled and her makeup was done, the mere sight of her made House's breath catch in his throat.
"Wow, is that Y/N?" Chase asked.
"Yeah, it is," Cameron replied, moving across the lobby to greet her coworker as Chase followed behind her.
House lingered by the bar, watching Y/N speak to her colleagues with Wilson at her side. Wilson was a good man aside from his strange compulsion of cheating on his partners in every relationship. They were both kind people and would make an ideal couple if they were to make their relationship official.
House clenched his jaw, finishing his drink and setting the glass on the bar roughly.
"Hey, what did that glass ever do to you?" Y/N asked, leaning on the bar beside him.
"There seems to be a hole in the bottom of it," House said.
"Right," She replied with a smile.
"What are you drinking?" He asked.
"I'd like a glass of champagne," Y/N said.
House waved over the bartender, "I'll take a double whiskey, neat, and a glass of champagne for the lady," House said, the bartender nodded and stepped away to prepare their drinks.
"Have you spoken to any of the donors yet?" Y/N asked, glancing around the room.
"Cuddy told me to keep my mouth shut and for once, I agree," House stated, handing a bill to the bartender as he set their drinks on the bartop.
"Probably for the best," Y/N said.
"Probably," House replied, watching her as she took a sip from her champagne flute.
"So, you and Wilson, huh?" House questioned.
"I don't think it's a love match, unfortunately," Y/N said, glancing over her shoulder.
"Why not?" House asked.
"He's too nice," Y/N shrugged.
"Too nice? That's why you don't like him? You're recklessly nice to everyone you've ever met," House said, Y/N huffed a laugh.
"I don't know... Maybe I have a type," She replied.
"And what would that be?" House questioned.
"Mean and sarcastic with a limp," Y/N stated.
House hesitated for a moment, "Me? You like me?" He asked.
"For a guy who seems to know everything, you're pretty oblivious when it comes to me," Y/N teased.
"What is that supposed to mean?" House questioned, turning towards her.
"Whenever you're not watching me, I'm watching you... It was Wilson's plan to try and make you jealous, but it felt kind of mean," Y/N said.
"Have I ever told you that you're incredible?" House asked.
"Not that I can recall," Y/N replied.
"You're an incredible woman, Doctor L/N... I'd like to take you out for dinner sometime," House said.
"That would be really nice," Y/N smiled.
....
Y/N sat on the couch in House's apartment, her legs were tucked up on the cushion beside her as she read from her book. House made his way into the living room, looking through his stack of CDs. He pulled out the plastic case for the disc he'd been searching for, turning on his stereo and putting in the CD.
House turned up the volume before making his way over to Y/N. He set his cane aside and leaned down, sliding the book out from under her hand.
"What are you doing?" She questioned with a smile.
"Dance with me," House said, holding his hand out to her.
"You know that I'm an awful dancer," Y/N said, reluctantly rising from the couch and following him as they moved into the middle of the room.
"I only have one functioning leg, you should be able to keep up," House teased, pulling her closer to him.
Y/N wrapped her arms around him, holding his other hand in hers as she rested her head on his chest. House pressed a kiss to the top of her head as they swayed.
"I like this song," Y/N mumbled.
"I know," House replied.
They swayed together in a comfortable silence, holding each other close as the music played. It had taken them a long time to get to this point, but House valued every moment he was able to spend with her.
He appreciated every time their eyes locked, or the feeling of her touch on his skin. Even the sound of her voice or the sight of her smile were cherished by him. House was addicted to her, desperately counting the minutes until he could see her again.
House didn't have many things that he valued above himself or his intellect, but his love for Y/N easily eclipsed it all. She had quickly become the most important thing in his life and he was surprisingly alright with that.
I Only Want Sympathy in the Form of You Crawling Into Bed with Me
Dr. Gregory House x Doctor!Reader
Summary: Reader gets all dolled up for a night out on the town with a new date. Until he blows her off last minute. Now, all dressed up and no where to go, House invites her out for drinks with he and Wilson.
CW: implied age gap (not much tho), kinda mutual pining, drinking, drunk!Wilson, bathroom hookup, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, some spanking, creampie
a/n: my titles are getting as long as fall out boy titles lmao (ironic since this title is from one of their songs)
title track 🎶🥃
~~~
“I HATE MEN,” you shouted into the phone as your heels clicked against the cold pavement. Soft chill of the night breeze making its way up your dress, freshly shaven legs more sensitive to the cold. Coat draped over your shoulders.
“No, you hate boys,” Lisa Cuddy said with a smirk on the other side of the line, “A real man wouldn’t blow you off ten minutes before a date.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off her logic, wanting to be angry. Taking the turn before facing the hospital. Where you spent your days and some nights. Most people would want to stay away from work, but it was a comfort for you. When nothing else made sense, work did.
“You didn’t even like the guy—“
“THAT MAKES IT WORSE!” a defeated laugh escaped you. Hearing Cuddy snicker at how distraught you were. She knew how you got when things did not go according to plan. Entertained by the way your voice jumped an octave with each sentence.
“Well, I’m sure you look hot. Go out and find a new guy. Just blow some steam off or something,” she encouraged.
You sighed. Stopping directly in the glow of the neon sign. Staring in through the glass doors where people inside never sleep. Always a new problem to solve, always new people to treat. You liked it that way.
“Thank you, Lis,” you smiled. Refusing to admit to her that you would simply waste the night away looking through case files. Better for her to believe you were getting drunk and taking guys home. Clicking your phone off when Cuddy excused herself as someone came into her office.
Smell of sanitizer and medical equipment greeted you. Familiar. Comforting in a way. Making a pit stop by the cafeteria before heading up to your office. Since your dinner plans had been canceled and all. Options limited due to the hours in which you were here. Grabbing some leftover fruits and a pre-wrapped sandwich.
Trying your hardest to ignore the way everyone’s eyes widened when they saw you. Not usually being one to be all dressed up, so the sight of your dress had people in a judgmental frenzy. Eyes narrowing in on you as you passed familiar faces. Barely skirting past Wilson’s office. Throwing an off handed wave at he and House as you hurried to your own office.
“Was that Y/L/N?” Wilson’s brows furrowed.
“I believe so,” House said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “In a dress… Above the knee.” Big blue eyes looked back to Wilson. Intrigue across his brow.
“She went home at five,” Wilson redirected his attention onto the papers in front of him, “At least she was supposed to.”
House hummed in response. Quickly rising and heading to your office.
You did not even bother clicking on the overhead light. Opting for the soft orange of your lamp. Laying out all the food you had grabbed. Grabbing a green apple first. Barely having sunk your teeth in when your door swung open. Startling you slightly. House stood in the doorway, hand wrapped around his cane and the other leaned against your doorframe. Studying you across the room. Drinking in what little of you he could see. The way your breasts peaked from the low cut collar. How different your hair looked down. And the fact you had a full face of makeup on. Looking ethereal as you basked in the soft glow.
“Aren’t these things supposed to keep people like you away?” you said, tossing the apple into the air and catching it.
“People like… me?” House’s grip on his cane tightened at your insinuation.
“Doctors,” you said simply.
House’s head fell at the realization. Tongue wetting his lip as he chuckled. Brows bouncing before knitting together as he caught your eyes again. “You know,” he entered, closing the door behind him, “You’re one of those too?”
“Not tonight. Tonight, I’m a girl who just got stood up by her date… ten minutes before the date was supposed to start. And now, I have nothing else to do. So here I am. One wasted evening and a shot of vodka later,” you smiled. Hiding the way your shoulders wanted to sag and face droop.
“Thought you were taking a low blow there,” House said as he sat in the chair across from you, motioning towards his bad leg. Feet propping themselves up on the wooden desk. Eliciting a dirty look from you.
“Yeah because I do that so much,” you rolled your eyes.
“Well, you have been spending a lot of time with Cuddy,” House smirked. Jabbing at you. Trying to in his own way to get you in a better mood. Unsure why he cared. Happy he did.
“You could always come with me and Wilson,” House suggested nonchalantly.
“If this is your way of asking me to be your third—“
He laughed. Head thrown back slightly and eyes shut. Pushing his lips together as he looked back at you, “You know Wilson gets jealous when the third is prettier than him.”
You rolled your eyes, returning his look with blushing cheeks. Believing this to be another attempt at making you smile. Hoping, deep down, he meant it. Maybe he did think you were pretty.
You smiled at him. Pulling the same expression across his face. Not acknowledging what he had just said. Sitting forward to get him to continue. Proving your interest.
“We’re going out for drinks,” House sat up, “You should come. Hell, we may even get you laid.”
You scoffed at that. Widening your eyes at him. Seeing his cocky grin curve at the corner of his mouth. Loving how your cheeks glowed.
“Especially with you looking like that,” House’s eyes rested on the exposed bit of cleavage showing from your dress. He stood, bouncing his eyebrows at you with a grin. Liking the way you scrambled to cover your chest. Chuckling to himself as he began out of the room.
“You’re a real charmer, House,” you joked, unable to hide the laugh that had creeped into your throat.
“Anything for you, sweetheart,” House said rather loudly as he exited.
You exhaled with a smile. Looking down at yourself. Confidence boosted from House’s remarks. There was no question that you would go with them. Opting for a night of fun rather than one alone.
Casualty of the pet name had butterflies flapping around your guts. Hating that Dr. Greg House, of all people, had this kind of hold on you. Allowing yourself to develop some deeper feelings for him. Unable to forgive yourself for that.
Abandoning your makeshift dinner, walking over to Wilson’s office. Making sure your hair looked good, dress was patted down, and heels adjusted. Leaning against his doorframe the same way House had done yours. Catching both their attention.
“Wow,” Wilson said, stiffening his back.
“Keep your pants on. I’m crashing your date tonight,” you smiled, walking over and taking the seat beside house. Propping your legs up on his lap so that your dress hiked up a little. Exposing mid-thigh. More skin than either of them had ever seen on you.
House’s eyes cascaded up your body. Taking in the sight of your legs over his own, pretending his dick did not jump at the contact. Eyes meeting the bit of parted dress he could see up, not enough to reveal anything but still a tease. Ending with hooded ones looking into yours. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. One hand flattening against your leg, gently stroking the soft skin.
House looked over at Wilson in a silent brag.
“I thought you had a date tonight,” Wilson questioned, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.
“I did,” you gritted your teeth, “No show at the last minute. It’ll be more fun to run around and see you drunk anyway.”
“Did you tell everyone about the date, but me?” House widened his eyes at you, faking being offended. Earning a shrug from you in response.
“Well, nonetheless, I’m happy you’re coming with us,” Wilson rose from his desk. Removing his lab coat, replacing it with his actual coat. Yourself and House following along with his movements. Deciding to all ride together since you had walked anyway. Not like you lived a crazy distance away, but really you had kinda blacked out and began walking to work when you got left high and dry.
The Bar was expectedly crowded. Bodies pressed tightly together along the dance floor. People piled together in each booth. Stench of beer burning your nostrils. A few stools remained at a corner table. A good walk from the bar itself. Perfectly spaced so all three of you could face one another around the round table. Taking the chair closer to House, back to the wall.
“I’ll go grab us something,” Wilson said, hurrying off before you could even hint at what you wanted. Chuckling softly at how eager he was to get some liquor in his system.
“He doesn’t even know what I like,” you sighed, eyeing House beside you.
“Wilson’s got a way of knowing what everyone will like. Some nonsense about being able to ‘read people’,” House said, fidgeting with the napkin holder at the center.
You silently nodded. Watching Wilson across the room, redirecting your attention to House, “So. Tell me, what drink does go well with Vicodin?”
House’s eyes bounced up to read your expression. Noting the smug smirk across your lips, hooded eyes looking at his. “Ooo. Cold,” House chided with a slight grin. Brows pushing together when he straightened his back. Lips puckering as he blew out a breath, “Cuddy teach you that one?”
“Anyone with eyes would know,” you jokingly mocked. Leaning forward to close the gap between you both. Learning the details of his scruff, all the stress and worry lines beautifully decorating his forehead, and how blue his eyes really were. Cheeks suddenly heating up when his eyes met yours so strongly. Pupils dilating as he analyzed your figure.
Being interrupted abruptly by Wilson sliding shots to both of you. You side eyed House, reading right through his bullshit about Wilson ‘knowing’ what people would like. His brows bounced when you eyed him, smirking at your annoyed glance.
“What is this?”
“Just drink!”
You smiled as you clinked your tiny glass with the other two doctors. Throwing back the stout liquor. Burning down your throat. Nostrils suddenly tingling from the potency. Sucking your teeth as you tried to hide a cough. Blinking away the burn when you saw Wilson throw back a second shot.
He was not playing around tonight.
Giggling to yourself at how his cheeks immediately flushed. Continuing to drink as some time passed. Wilson having an obvious affiliation for shots. Losing count as he continued back and forth to the bar. You had ordered yourself a cocktail that you had been nursing for the last bit. House with his whiskey. The two of you trying to hide your shocked and disgusted faces as you watched Wilson’s body wriggle on the dance floor. Your lip arched in pure amazement at the way the oncologist moved to the music. Catching the attention of all the younger women in the bar.
You looked to House, unable to hide your laughter at his expression. Horrified by the way his best friend behaved when drunk. The beat of a song from even before your time sputtered from the speakers laced around the bar. Wilson somehow having a preplanned dance number to it. House tucked his face into his hand in astonishment. Hiding himself from the embarrassment.
Accidentally allowing a snort to escape from how hard you were laughing. Cupping both hands against your mouth as you wide-eyed House. Seeing the gears turning behind his eyes as he planned a cruel joke to make at your expense.
Stopping himself when he saw the twinkle in your eyes. Cheeks glowing as you tried to hide your toothy grin behind your hands. The way your leg grazed against his under the table. How casually you held onto his arm as you both watched your coworker make his moves on the dance floor. Head falling on his shoulder when you would laugh. Tucking your face into him to try and hide it.
He hated how easily you had nestled yourself into his mind.
“Don’t you want to go join him?”
“Hell no,” House laughed, “Cane’s just gonna get in the way.” Spinning the wood at his side.
Apparently you were a giggler when alcohol entered your system. Everything would illicit some form of laughter from you. Smile permanently ripped across your face. Eyes softly hooded from the dark room.
“I’d like to see you out there with him though,” House snickered, taking a quick sip of his drink. Openly flirting with you in a way he never had before. Catching you off guard.
“I’m sure you would,” you laughed, shoving him gently.
“Wilson would too. Probably be happy to take you home with him,” House admitted, tinge of jealousy spitting from his tongue. Vein on his forehead throbbing as his eyes fixated on the ice cube in his glass.
Your nose scrunched up as you looked at your coworker, “Nah.”
“Nah?” House repeated the exact way you said it. Brows contorting in confusion.
“Wilson’s not… not my type,” you admitted, taking a swig of your mixed drink. Leaning closer to House as you finished the liquor. Scooting your chair so that you were face to face with him. House matched your posture. If the music at the bar was not so loud, you could have been whispering.
“You have a type?”
“I do,” your head fell to the side with a smile.
“Ah. The lady who can have anything— is picky,” House spaced out his last words. Cocking a brow at you when you giggled to yourself.
Shaking your head in disagreement, “Not picky. Just have someone else in mind.”
“The boy who blew you off tonight?”
You paused. Having already forgot about your absent suitor. Blinking with furrowed brows. “No,” you said plainly. Eyes now staring at one of the television screens across the bar. Airing some rerun of a soccer game. Seeing the way House’s eyes raked your body from your peripheral. Waiting for more than what you were giving him.
“Miss Mystery—“
“That’s Doctor Mystery, thank you,” you corrected in a playful tone. Raising your eyebrows as you glanced back over to him. He liked that you were not the type to throw it all on the table. Keeping some form of secret from him made him want to dissect you. Understand what makes you tick. Solve the puzzle.
“I know him, don’t I?” House began, wanting to break the truth free.
“Don’t—“
“We have to work with him. When else would you have time to figure out you like someone,” he rubbed his chin as he racked through his memory of everyone you worked with.
“I’m not going to tell you,” you chuckled at his grade school antics. Widening your eyes at him with a smile you could not rid yourself of. He was so handsome. Eyes stuck to you. Loving the attention he was giving you.
“Is it— NO. It can’t be,” House began.
Your heart sank into your stomach. Breath hitching in your throat at the possibility of him figuring you out. Not like you were exactly hiding it from him. In your mind, you basically had been throwing yourself at him.
“You’re into Cuddy?” House’s jaw hung open, clearly he was messing with you.
You exhaled hard. Pulse erratic. Pinching the bridge between your nose as you collapsed onto the table in front of you. Body shaking with laughter. Embarrassment clear by the way your cheeks heated up. “I didn’t know you swung that way,” House continued.
“Jesus Christ, Greg,” you breathed out, teeth shining with a smile.
“Greg? When did we get on a first name basis?” he chuckled, leaning down so that his lips were close to your ear. Heat from his breath tickling your skin. Using every tool in his box to get you a shriveling and babbling mess of embarrassment before him. Goosebumps cascading across your limbs. His hand splayed across your thigh as he leaned into you, smile matching the one you were sporting.
“Since you started prying into my personal life,” you looked up at him, not moving your head from its rested position. You loved seeing him smile so widely. Teeth on display and cheeks bulbing. You wanted to kiss him so bad.
And you would have. If he had not rose suddenly, “I’ll be back, Y/N. I’ve gotta take a piss.” House blatantly said. Walking into the single stall bathroom the bar had to offer. The way he had held his eyes in yours as he said your name made your guts tingle. Trying to understand what had just happened. Flustered and confused.
Making your most rash decision of the night. Following after him. Breath escaping your lungs as you held your fist up to the old door. Meekly, you knocked. Earning a ‘one second’ from House.
“It’s me,” you said.
A pause before the door creaked open. House had a curious expression written along his brow, eyes scaling you before him. “Just because I’m cripple, doesn’t mean I need you to hold it for me,” House smiled cockily.
Giving him an aggressive eye roll. Arms folded over your chest as you stamped your foot down. Shoe sticking to the residue across the floor. Doeing your eyes at him through the crack in the door. Placing your hand on the door so he could not close it.
Curiosity was one of his vices. And your silence was strange. He had to find out why you came knocking. Allowing you to step inside with him, backing himself into the small room.
“If you wanted to see my cock that—“
Your lips were on his. Shutting him up as you pressed his body against the wall. Hands flattening along his stomach, tongue slipping past his lips. Tasting the liquor on him. Making him taste even better than you had imagined. His free hand gripped the back of your head. Keeping his lips firmly to yours, tasting you. Enamored by the way your lips perfectly captured one another. Not taking the time to pull away before you were palming at his groin. Needing him worse than you had ever imagined. Receiving airy grunts and groans in between your lips. Conjuring slick between your legs.
Falling to your knees and you undid his belt, hastily pulling his cock out of his jeans. Member already swollen and hard, tip leaking slowly. Kitten licking at the head, causing House to lean further into the wall. Voice trembling as a satisfied groan escaped him. Stroking him with one of your hands, the other pushing your escaped hairs out of your face. Making sure you could look up at him as you went down. Taking just the tip into your mouth, tongue flat under the head. Curling and massaging the sensitive spot underneath.
House’s throat tightened as his hand braced itself against your scalp. Moaning when your nose met the base of his cock. Brushing against the soft, curly hair that peaked out. Sloppily bobbing your head up and down on him. Salty taste of precum overwhelming your mouth. Smiling when he bumped the back of your throat. Eyes locking into his. Blue orbs awestruck by the sight of you on your knees before him.
“Fuck,” he breathlessly whispered. His hand gripped your hair, using it as a handle so he could fuck into your mouth. Barely rolling his hips to meet your lips. Lost in the way your warm mouth perfectly sucked him in. Knowing if you continued he would be cumming soon.
Loosing your breath and having to pull off for a moment. Replacing your mouth with a hand. Curling around the spit covered member, continuing the same rhythm you had previously had. Heaving as you looked up at him. Lust filled eyes explaining yourself. Giving away any secret you had been hiding before.
“Guess I was wrong about the— ugh— Cuddy thing?” House snarked, mischievously looking at you. You nodded, putting just the tip into your mouth as your hand continued to pump him. Sucking the sensitive head, swirling your tongue around it. Collecting his sticky pre along your tongue with each swipe. His head fell back against the wall once more, jaw hung harshly open as he groaned.
“Yes, Y/N. Just like that,” House mumbled as you took him back into your mouth entirely. Losing himself to pleasure when your teeth would graze his length for a moment. Salty taste overtaking your mouth.
House’s hand urged you off. Sucking off with a soft pop of his cock. Fluttering your lashes up at him in confusion. Wondering if you had done something wrong. “Get up,” he groaned.
Obeying and standing to your feet before him. Burning of your knees overshadowed by how wet you were. Meeting his hooded eyes as you pressed a kiss to his lips. Hand cupping your cheek, snaking around to lace into the hair at the nape of your neck.
“Bend over the sink,” House breathed between kisses.
“You don’t owe me—“
“I want to fuck you,” House’s eyes narrowed. That shot electricity through you. Expecting him to be the type to take whatever he was given. Let you suck him off then return to the table like nothing happened. But this was much better.
You took your place at the sink. Hands grasping the quartz countertop, meeting your own eyes in the mirror. Looking like you had just been face fucked. Liking what you saw. Especially when House’s figure came into frame. The click of his cane echoed against the silent room. Large hands pushed your dress up your back revealing the lacy thong you had wore.
House chuckled to himself at the sight.
“Guess you planned on getting laid tonight?”
“No,” you admitted, “It just makes me feel sexy.”
“It looks sexy,” House’s eyes widened with a smirk. Grabbing a handful of your ass before smacking it. Earning a quick squeak from you. Sneering at him in the mirror which only made him smile wider. His finger looped around the thin fabric band, tugging it down. You spread your legs allowing them to fall down, stepping one foot out.
The air fanned over your slick folds. Sending chills down your body. House held himself by the base, slapping his cock against your entrance a few times. Breath shuttering as he felt how warm and wet you were for him. Blunt tip swirling around your folds, prodding at your entrance.
Finally, he thrusted slowly forward. Cock sinking inside your warmth. His brows furrowed as he watched his member disappear. Lips parted and tongue pressing into his lower one. House groaned when his hips met the swell of your ass. Holding steady as his head fell back in pleasure. Fingers digging little crescents into the flesh of your hip.
You moaned when he pulled back. Mouth hung open, desperate eyes catching his in the mirror. The corner of his mouth instinctively curved with a grin that showcased his teeth. Fleeting as he refocused on the feeling of you wrapped around him. Rolling his hips and finding a rhythm that had you both gasping for air.
“Greg,” you moaned when the curve of his cock prodded at a sensitive spot inside you.
“Where the hell has this been all my life?” he halfheartedly laughed, his mind going blank from how good it felt. Air struggling to regulate inside his lungs. Losing himself to pleasure. Almost forgetting about the sharp pain in his thigh for a moment.
The squelching sound of his repeated pistoning hips filled the space. Drowned out to any outside listeners by the bar’s loud speakers. His cock perfectly filled you. Stretching your walls with every rock of hips. One of your hands reached down to rub tight circles on your clit.
House could not remember the last time he had properly fucked someone. Let alone felt this much satisfaction from another. His entire body was warm. Heartbeat pounding against his eardrums. Veins flowing with pure desire for you.
“Y/N,” he said with a particularly low and sultry voice.
You could feel the coil inside you tightening. Knowing if he continued this way you would be cumming around him shortly. And it felt good. You could swear you had never had sex so good. Never expecting to be here with House.
“That stupid prick has no idea what he missed out on. You know that? Anyone would be lucky to fuck you,” House mindlessly praised. His balls tightening when your walls fluttered for a moment. Preparing for your orgasm to wash over you.
You panted and squirmed on his cock. His words settling perfectly in your core. White hot overwhelmed your body as you lost your grip for a moment. Falling forward as you came unraveled around him. House pressed firmly into you. Loving the feeling of you gripping down on his sensitive length. Barely rutting to fuck you through your high. His name a mixture of moans and babbling from your mouth. Back arched harshly as you came down.
House picked up his speed again. You cried out with each stretch. Louder than you intended, but not caring. The twitch of his cock told you he was close behind. Meeting each of his movements with your own. Coaxing him to his end. Cumming inside you in spurts of hot, sticky ropes. Coating your walls with his seed. Breathy, broken groans fell from his heaving chest.
Both of you tried to catch your breath. Your arms folded over in front of you as you rested your head on them. Sweat sticking to every inch of skin. House’s hand snaked around your front, urging you to stand at your full height once more. You made sure to pull your underwear back up and fix your dress before turning to face him. Small of your back meeting the countertop.
Your faces were flushed. Both of you smiling like lovesick idiots. House tucked himself back into his pants before stepping closer to you. His hand cupping your cheek to kiss you once more. Smiling as you connected lips. Giggling when he pulled away. Resting his forehead to yours, eyes latching onto yours.
“Kinda whorish to let your friend fuck you in the bathroom at some bar, don’t you think?” House snickered, pushing his lips to yours again.
You laughed, nudging him with your palm as you rolled your eyes. There was the House you knew. Arms lacing around his neck as he let his weight fall into you. One hand tightly holding onto your hip. Lips falling against the space between your neck and ear.
“You’re one to talk,” you snickered, “I think cumming in your friend is far more whorish.”
House pulled back to meet your eye, “Fair.”
He kissed you again. Memory of his praising words still fresh in your mind. Wondering if this would become something more. Or if you were overthinking things as you usually did.
“Wilson is probably wondering where we both ran off to,” you said, one of your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
House growled, “Probably hasn’t noticed.”
His big blue eyes stared into you. Wide like he was trying to engrave every memory of you this close to him. Tangled in his arms. Freshly glowing from sensual satisfaction. Cheeks still warm and smile still wide.
You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, “You’re cute.”
House rolled his eyes with a scoff. Looking back and smiling at you. Your compliment making his heart pound harder. Accepting his defeat and pulling away from you. Reaching back to take your hand in his and guide you out of the shared bathroom. Harsh blaring of speakers meeting your ears as he led you back to the table. Wilson had snuggled up with some girls on the dance floor.
House gestured towards him, “Told you.”
You laughed. Shrugging in defeat.
House gave you a closed mouth smile before looking back at Wilson. Both of you watching him sexually grab on a stranger who you knew he would not remember by morning. Rocking hips and whispering into her ear.
“You know,” House turned his head to meet your gaze again, “We could always go fool around in Wilson’s car.”
You snorted, hand coming up to cover your mouth. Eyes wide with shock from the suggestion. Two pinched fingers dangled his keys in front of you. Jingling them with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Oh. Naughty boy,” you teased with a click of your tongue.
House shrugged, “It’s who I am.”
~~~
[END]
// Thank you for reading! I have had this one in the works since before I finished my first House multi-part fic, so it’s been a long time coming. I just love writing for House bc he’s such an ass. As always, my inbox is always open for requests! Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! //
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