One thing about James Wilson? He's going to eat that cat.
House was extra annoying that day? He's diving in to make out with your clit until his frustration is gone and your legs are Jell-O. He had to give too much bad news for one day? He's stuffing his head between your thighs, using them as earmuffs until the noise in his head is drowned out by your moans. He'll spend hours down there. Days, if only it were physically possible.
Enjoy the scene that came to me at 2 AM while I couldn't sleep.
(Female reader. Not proofread.)
You're sitting in the living room, a glass of wine in your hand. Dinner is simmering on the stove and an episode of your favorite "background noise" show is on. The front door opens hard, James comes lumbering through with that usual slump in his shoulders. He tugs at his tie to loosen it, stomping over to the couch.
A pang shoots through your chest and you quickly set your glass down to take him into open arms. He falls in across the couch, head landing heavily in your lap. Your now free hand strokes his hair.
"Wanna talk about it?" You ask softly.
Only a grunt comes in response. It's a no.
"Want dinner?"
He shakes his head, long arms coming to wrap around your waist. You can't help but chuckle at the almost childish way he's acting. Your other hand rubs soothing circles into his back. He huffs, simultaneously melting into you and hugging you more tightly.
His face is pressed into your shirt, long breaths taking in your scent for several seconds. His large hands leave your back to hold your hips. His grip is the kind of tight that he's using the touch of your skin as an anchor. As some grasp at sanity after whatever hellish day he had. His nose nudges more intently into you, brushing your waistband.
"...smell good..." He murmurs, muffled. Thumbs dip below your pants to graze your pantyline. "Feel good..."
A shiver rolls through you, your body heating up at the beginning of this familiar dance. You let your legs widen beneath him, hips shifting more openly for him. A content hum leaves him, his fingers already pulling at the button of your pants.
"Need you." He groans, picking up his head just enough to pull at your clothes.
Feeling heat in your face as well as your gut, you shimmy to help shed the layer. "So excited to get me in bed." You tease, chuckling.
He shakes his head, slowly shifting off the couch to kneel between your legs. "No. No, I mean right now. Here." Lust-darkened eyes flick up to yours as he throws your pants aside. "Yeah?" His gaze falls hungrily to your dampened panties.
"God-" The word escapes your lips before you could stop it. You've never seen him look so... ravenous. He looks at you like a goddess, sure. Always makes it clear just how much he needs you. But this is something different entirely. And it has your entrance aching already.
Swallowing the sudden (excited) lump in your throat, you nod. "Yeah."
A satisfied growl comes from his throat at your consent. Warm hands yank your underwear so hard it nearly makes you gasp. "Beautiful," He whispers before ducking his head down to place one, long swipe of his tongue along the length of your needing core.
"Fucking perfect." He savors the taste of you for only a second before tugging your hips even closer.
Your head falls back at once. Long, tasting drags of his tongue has your legs held wide. And when he moves to tease your clit with quick flicking, content sighs turn to gasps and whines.
He hums happily and shifts your legs onto his shoulders, holding your thighs around his head. His tongue pumps in and out, and you swear you can feel his lips curl into a grin when you moan his name in response. He releases only one of your thighs, his fingers diving into your pulsing heat.
"Oh James!" Your own hands claw into the couch, his hair, anything you can reach really.
You can feel the vibration of words against yourself, but he doesn't move far enough away to be heard. Whatever it is, you're sure it's praise, as comes naturally from him.
His fingers curl, his tongue swirls, and you're starting to see white from the way you're clutching your eyes.
And when that wave of dizzying pleasure crashes through you?
He doesn't stop.
In fact, he drinks every bit of your orgasm like a man seeing a mirage after days of walking in the desert. As well as second.
It's not until you're squirming and pleading that it's too much that he even comes up for air. His hair messed from your fingers and his nose down coated in slick, he dares to pout up at you.
"Sorry," He says, letting your trembling legs slump off his shoulders and back to the floor. He isn't sorry in the slightest though. Not when he rises to kiss you messily. Not when he carries you to bed. And certainly not when you tell him that you're ready for more.
not proofread bc i’ve got a banging headache and its m bday but i wanted to post something. might do a part 2 w a 3some??? that was the plan but i got stuck on this for now
kind of lazy
tw; uhh sex?? i guess piv
“it was supposed to be just us” you grumbled, lips pouty and arms crossed like a toddler who’s toy was taken away.
“i know sweetheart- but i couldn’t just- he’s just going to be sleeping on the couch for a few days,” james stammered with a heavy sigh, his strong hands gentle on your shoulders as he kissed your forehead lovingly.
you werent really the biggest fan of house- i mean, who the hell would be?! it was greg fucking house, he was a cynical bastard that used sarcasm as a coping mechanism. but yeah, he was unfortunatly best friends with wilson.
“when does he come?” you grumbled, softening at the soft kiss to your forehead.
“oh.. uhm.. yeah- he’s already here..” the words coming out of james’ mouth just made you groan helplessly.
after a few good minutes of sitting on the edge of the bed with your face in your hands to try and gather the strength to deal with house, you finally walked out of the room to the kitchen, steps stiff.
“if you get crumbs on the pillows i’ll bite your trachea out,,” you mumbled, seeing him already sprawled out on the couch on the new pillows you bought.
“is that a threat?” and ofcourse he smirked, that smug bastard.
you smiled sarcastically at him, flashing your middle finger “did it sound like a compliment?”
before anybody could say anything, a loud sigh came from james.
“please, house.. don’t get crumbs on the pillows..” he muttered, he didn’t want you unhappy- he loved you, of course he did, you were the love of his life- even if he did sound kind of pathetic defending you and bread crumbs against house.
“well aren’t you what they call a….simp-“ house rolled his eyes, the mocking smirk still plastered on his face which frankly just seemed to irritate you even more. “- when’s the next divorce?”
the comment overtly made james tense up, his frown deepening. you huffed, rolling your eyes with a scoff, walking by your boyfriend, your hand gently rubbing his arm in a comforting manner as you walked by him to pour a glass of water. leaning against the counter, the comfort of james’ mcgill sweatshirt warm against your skin.
“we’re not even married yet!” james finally exclaimed, rubbing his face with his hands tiredly.
“god… i’ve been waiting all day…” james murmured in a whisper, his nose nudging your ear as you hum. your fingers gently tracing his back through his shirt, sliding over to his tense biceps holding himself above.
“me too..” you nodded continuing to unbutton his shirt, looking up at him through your lashes. sex with james was amazing, it was always the perfect mix of love. and god, did he look good from above and below.
it didn’t take long for him to strip out of his shirt that was now crumpled on the carpet, his pants half off as his lips moved desperately against yours. just the feeling of grinding against the outline of his hard cock made you feral.
a loud groan left james’ lips as he slipped the head of his cock into your pussy, ever so slowly pushing in to the hilt. he loved being deep inside of you, always pushing in as deep as he could. his eyelids twitching as he nudged his hips impossibly closer.
“i love you..” he grunted, earning a moan from you. having his tense forearms on the sides of your head, looking up at him as he began to railed you into the mattress. he could feel every flutter of your walls against his veins. the great thing about sex with james was.. he talked you through it.
it was pure ecstasy, holding eye contact with his puppy eyes as he thrusted into you. he shifted himself to sit up-
“you’re beautiful..”
it was just two words, but from james’ mouth it was everything. his slightly clammy hands trailing down the skin of your thighs to your calves, driving your knees up to rest against his shoulders causing him to groan out once again. he was getting closer, he had a tell- trying to get as deep into you as it physically was possible. and god did it feel good feeling his tip prod at your cervix.
and right as both of you were at your climax, a few loud bangs against the wall was heard.
“HEY! ARE YOU TWO DONE YET!”
wonderful.
so delightful.
“LET ME JOIN NEXT TIME!-“
“SHUT UP!” james growled out causing a distant laugh to be heard from house who was… still sleeping on the couch.
OMG IM READING A LIKE 62 CHAPTER HOUSE X WILSON X READER FIC (I have no idea how I ended up here, don't ask) AND ITS GENUINLY FULL ASS PLOTS OF FULL EPISODES, WITH PARAGRAPHS OF MEDICAL ANALYSIS AND THE FORMATTING OF THE ACTUAL SHOW, I FEEL LIKE I'M WATCHING A NEW EPISODE ITS SO AMAZING
Warnings: smut, language, p in v sex, head (f! recieving), some mild choking, a little praise kink, overstimulation, age gap, probably some incorrect medical info but, hey, I'm not a doctor, sex in a room with windows
Summary: You're a young, quiet doctor who just cracked a seemingly unsolvable case. After going back to the office to locate a lost item, you're surprised that Dr. House is also there, mulling over the case file.
Word Count: 5k
DISCLAIMER: I will be doing this request in 2 parts! First part, Dr. House. Second part, House AND Wilson!!!! :D
“We’re missing something… I can feel it.”
House mulled over the whiteboard, taking in every symptom one by one.
Fever
Neurological
Skin discoloration
Cognitive Decline
Fever
Neurological
Skin discoloration
Cognitive Decline
Fever-
“I need ideas.”
Everyone glanced at each other, unsure. No one wanted to break the heavy silence. No one wanted to be mocked, especially now that the patient was nearing the end. No one wanted to be wrong.
“Come on! If you can’t think of a good idea, think of a bad idea! I need something!”
Cameron shrugged.
“Cancer.”
“Can’t be, no tumor. Scans came back normal.”
Foreman rebutted.
House didn’t look away from the whiteboard. He was deep in thought.
Fever
Neurological
Skin discoloration
Cognitive Decline
“There… There isn’t a diagnosis that fits these symptoms that we haven’t already-”
“OF COURSE THERE’S A DIAGNOSIS!”
House pivoted towards Chase, his previously calm tone now filling the room, leaving little space to breathe. House sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead.
“There has to be something that explains these symptoms.”
He began to pace, clearly placing as little weight on his leg as humanly possible. He was in pain. This puzzle wasn’t playing by his rules.
“I need to think. You all stay here and…”
He paused. What was there to do when all hope seemed to be lost? The patient was dying. We had no idea what was killing him.
“...just try to think of something.”
House left without another word, moving swiftly despite his leg obviously aching. When we figured he was completely out of earshot, Foreman began to speak.
“I still think it’s MS. The neurological symptoms, fatigue, and cognitive changes all point towards MS-”
“It can’t be MS. MS doesn’t cause systemic fevers this high and the skin findings don’t fit!”
Foreman grit his teeth, upset that Cameron didn’t second his diagnosis.
“I still think it’s autoimmune encephalitis.”
Chase leaned over the table.
“Doesn’t explain the skin changes, and when we put him on steroids, he crashed.”
“Yes, but first he got better! Maybe if we just gave him more time!”
Foreman raised a hand.
“It’s not autoimmune encephalitis.”
Cameron held her tongue, her jaw muscles protruding as she tried her best not to rip Foreman’s face clean off.
Chase tapped his pen on the table, pondering.
“What about occult sepsis? It explains the fever, confusion, lab chaos, and multi-organ dysfunction-”
Foreman glanced downward, analyzing Chase’s idea.
“It could be.”
Cameron chimed in, needing to be the one to humble the men this time around.
“He didn’t get better on antibiotics, and there is no visible source!”
After a heated debate, the arguers grew quiet. They all kept to themselves, staring either down or towards the whiteboard. Finally, Chase rose.
“Where are you going?”
Cameron inquired. Chase power-walked to the door before turning and giving a fiery look in Cameron’s direction.
“I’m treating for occult sepsis.”
“You can’t! He doesn’t have occult sepsis; he didn’t get better on antibiotics-”
“We put him on the weak stuff before.”
“Yet we saw no improvement whatsoever!”
“DO YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA?”
Chase’s voice was only a handful of decibels below a shrill. Cameron flushed and recoiled slightly.
“Because if we do nothing, this patient is going to die. I’d rather him die with us trying than with us sitting here yelling at each other.”
Cameron gulped, her lips slightly parted, words wanting to spill out but dying on her tongue. She turned towards Foreman.
“Foreman?”
She asked, hoping for some support.
Foreman glanced back towards the whiteboard.
Fever
Neurological
Skin discoloration
Cognitive Decline
He shrugged.
“Chase is right.”
Cameron gasped. With that, Chase threw open the door and bounded down the hallway. When the tail end of his white lab coat disappeared around the corner, Cameron’s anger bubbled over.
“You can’t seriously be supporting this! Occult sepsis is a weak diagnosis-”
“Chase is right! Either we do something or we do nothing. If we’re wrong, the patient is dead anyway.”
Cameron focused downward, fidgeting with her fingernails. She knew occult sepsis wasn’t right. Foreman knew occult sepsis wasn’t right. Hell, even Chase knew.
CNS vasculitis?
No, angiography was inconclusive.
Subacute Bacterial Endocarditis?
No, the echo doesn’t show vegetation.
“Why are you so quiet?”
Foreman inquired, staring daggers into me.
“I just—”
I felt a blush creeping up onto my cheeks. My tongue was suddenly too big for my mouth.
“I just don’t have any ideas.”
A lie. I did have ideas. Lots of ideas. But we didn’t need ideas. We needed a diagnosis.
“Well then, respectfully, why the hell are you still here?”
“Foreman.”
“You may as well go home while the adults do all the work—”
“FOREMAN! Leave her alone! Alright, this is a tough case, and we’re all a little stressed out, so why don’t we just cut each other some slack?”
I knew Cameron wasn’t really on my side. I knew she hated that I failed to contribute. But she was rational and knew that conflict would not lead to a diagnosis.
Foreman glared at me.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t sorry. Not at all. Not in the slightest.
“Alright, it’s affecting multiple organs,” I began. “So, what goes everywhere?”
“Blood.”
Cameron answered.
“Yeah, but there is no disease affecting blood flow that explains all of these symptoms! Hell, there isn’t any disease that explains all of these symptoms!”
I tapped my fingers against the table in a rhythmic, calculated manner. I needed to get out of here. The air was far too thick with tension. I needed to talk to someone. Preferably, a friend.
“Hey, where the hell are you going?”
Foreman asked as I made my way towards the exit.
“I need to think.”
~
“God, I’m really fucking this case up.”
I stated, head in my hands as I mulled over the symptoms for the thousandth time.
Fever
Neurological
Skin discoloration
Cognitive Decline
“You are not. If House is having a difficult time coming up with a diagnosis, then it must be something seriously difficult to pinpoint.”
Wilson set a cup of steaming coffee in front of me. I grabbed it eagerly, having not slept in over 24 hours.
“I can’t even come up with a decent idea.”
Wilson shrugged, plopping down on the couch next to me.
“Neither can House. Look, don’t beat yourself up so much.”
Wilson placed a caring hand on my upper back. A shiver ran down my spine. I met his gaze. Caring. Loving. Classic Wilson.
Was I in Wilson’s office because I needed a friend?
Yes.
Was I in Wilson’s office because I possessed an incredibly secret desire for him to bend me over his desk?
Also yes.
Now that I think about it, maybe a man who I’ve imagined inside of me isn’t the best choice for a-
“Wait.”
I slammed the coffee cup onto the table.
“What?”
Wilson inquired. I shot to my feet, pacing rapidly as all of the puzzle pieces clicked into place simultaneously.
“Intravascular Large B-Cell Lymphoma.”
“That’s… incredibly rare.”
“I know that it’s rare. But unexplained fevers, neurological deficits that migrate, skin discoloration without rash, rapid cognitive decline, and labs all over the place?”
A sudden look of realization washed over Wilson’s features.
“My God. I’m the oncologist, and I didn’t even think of that!”
By the time he finished his sentence, I was already out the door, barreling towards the patient’s room.
-
“Chase! It’s not occult sepsis; it's intravascular large B-cell lymphoma.”
Chase turns. The antibiotic bag was firmly grasped in his gloved hand.
“It can’t be cancer; the scans showed no masses.”
“Yes, because cancer lives inside the blood vessels. It wouldn’t show up on a typical scan!”
“That’s incredibly rare. It’s much more likely that he has sepsis.”
“No! Not all the symptoms fit! It’s Intravascular Large B-Cell Lymphoma! I’m starting him on high-dose methotrexate.”
I ran towards the patient. Chase shoved his body between me and the IV.
“If you’re wrong, the treatment could ruin his kidneys, suppress his bone marrow! He’d die even quicker than anticipated!”
“I am not wrong. Occult sepsis doesn’t fit. Intravascular large B-cell lymphoma does.”
Chase rolls his eyes, turning to hang the antibiotic bag.
“CHASE, do NOT give him those antibiotics!”
“What’s going on in here?”
A fresh voice emerged from the doorway. House. I pivoted, unable to find the words to explain what was occurring. Instead, I merely pointed at the patient, shouting.
“Intravascular large B-cell lymphoma!”
Chase and House paused. There was an unnerving silence following my outburst. House furrowed his brow, contemplating.
“It fits. Chase, start the patient on chemotherapy. Now. And add high-dose methotrexate.”
~
The hospital was quiet, still. Typically around this hour there would be at least one code blue, ricocheting off the cold walls and startling everyone from their stupor. However, there was a perceivable lack of arousal.
I had lost an earring. Figuring it must have fallen off when I darted out of the room, I was now bent over on all fours, scrambling around the floor.
“Shit.”
I mumbled under my breath. The stale hospital light wafted through the glass walls. An almost imperceptible glimmer emerged from the carpet. I gasped, hastily reaching for the shine. Thankfully, my fingertips located a small diamond stud.
“Ugh, thank God!”
“Did you happen to find God under that table?”
I shot upwards, my head slamming against the wood.
“Ah, fuck!”
I scrambled to my feet, rotating my body to locate the source of the voice.
Dr. House leaned against his cane, the soft glow of the hospital painting one side of his face.
“Uh, no,” I laughed uncomfortably. “I—I just lost my earring.”
I held it up to the light, as if he wouldn’t believe me unless there was physical proof. House’s lips tightened, throwing me a subtle nod.
“Great!”
He hobbled over to the coffee station.
“Well, you found it. You can go home now. Case is over, thanks to you.”
House began to prepare the coffee machine. It roared to life, mechanical clanking swelling to fill the tranquil office.
Huh, coffee this late?
“Aren’t you going to go home?”
House shook his head.
“Nope!”
He exclaimed.
“Well… why not?”
House swiveled his head, his pale blue eyes locking with mine. My throat closed.
“You know… judging by the way you’re running that pretty little mouth of yours… It would appear that you seem to care for me more than our patient.”
Pretty? Little? Mouth?
My chest tightened.
“That’s—that’s not true!”
I declared, my voice mere decibels shy of a yell. I’m not entirely sure why I all of a sudden felt an insatiable need to defend my actions.
House turned his body to now face me fully, leaning against the coffee counter smugly.
“Defensive. Interesting.”
He uttered smugly. My face grew hot.
“Why is that weird?”
My voice cracked. I prayed he didn’t notice.
“I didn’t say it was weird. I said it was interesting.”
My jaw quaked, joints suddenly full of sand.
“Well, why exactly is it interesting then?”
Enough coffee was now crafted for House to make himself a small cup. He turned his attention towards the machine, pulling it from its place. A few drops fell, sizzling as they smacked against the plastic.
“Hopkins practically begged you to enroll. Once you were in, you were top of your class. You’re clearly very smart… very kind… very beautiful.”
The ceramic mug was filled with dark coffee. My head was filled with thoughts, dirty thoughts, improper thoughts.
Was he flirting with me?
No way… He’s called Cameron hot dozens of times.
Then why didn’t his voice possess a semblance of sarcasm?
“You should have a shit ton of confidence. However—”
He takes a large gulp of coffee.
“I accuse you of caring for me more than the patient, and your first reaction is to yell at me, stating that I was wrong.”
House once again rotated his figure to face me. His eyes were fixed on the steaming liquid, one arm bracing himself against the table as he had propped his cane against the counter.
“Which begs the question…”
He glanced upwards, glaring at me through his brows. My stomach tightened. My fists tightened. My jaw tightened.
“Why the hell do you care so much what I think of you?”
My lipstick had faded, leaving dry, cracked skin in its wake. I ran my tongue along them. I didn’t have an answer. I dropped my jaw, hoping that words wouldn’t fail me when I needed them most. They did. I closed my mouth, then opened it again, hoping a second time would do the trick. It didn’t.
I exhaled a shaky breath, my head dropping downwards to avoid the crushing eyes of Dr. House.
“Well! If you shake the cat from your tongue, you know where to find me.”
I shoved my fists in my pockets, depositing the earring. House plucked his cane, limping over to his desk, coffee in hand. I found my body wanting to follow him. My feet began to move instinctively, one after the other, until I was deposited in front of House’s desk.
“I didn’t want you to think I was a bad doctor!”
I blurted out.
“I—I didn’t want you to think I was a failure…”
House peered at me over the top of his reading glasses.
“You are many things, Dr. Y/L/N.”
He grabbed the case file, flipping it open for a thorough examination.
“But one thing you are not is a failure.”
The blush that previously resided on my cheeks had now moved to my lower abdomen. My knees began to wobble. God, why did I never notice Dr. House’s eyes had such a… bedroom-like quality?
I needed to sit. My diaphragm had choked my lungs, and my knees were due to give out at the drop of a hat.
I plopped down in a yellow chair, across from Dr. House. He peeked at me above the blue case file.
“Just make yourself comfortable, I suppose.”
He paid me no mind as he locked his focus onto the file. I clenched my thighs, perceiving the way in which his lips parted slightly when he was deep in concentration.
“Don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?”
I bit my lip nervously.
“No.”
“Shame.”
My leg shook, heel rhythmically tapping against the carpet.
“Why is that a shame?”
“A beautiful girl with no boyfriend is always a shame—”
“Are you flirting with me?”
It slipped from my lips like melting snow. I glued my lips shut, eyes widening as the full weight of my words settled. House cocked a brow, the case file falling into his lap.
“I—I’m sorry. I—I didn’t even mean to say that. That was very inappropriate. I really don’t even know why I—”
“No, it’s a valid question.”
House tossed the file onto his desk, his posture no longer relaxed.
“What would you like the answer to be?”
I furrowed my brow.
“Wha—What do you mean?”
House shrugged casually, as if we were discussing the weather, as if he was completely unaware that my lower abdomen was full of butterflies.
“If you don’t enjoy the idea of me flirting with you, just say no, and we can both move on with our lives and forget about this whole thing. On the contrary, if you do enjoy the idea of me flirting with you, just say yes, and I’ll bend you over my desk right now.”
I gulped, a substantial lump forming in my throat. My heartbeat mimicked that of a rabbit. My heel ceased its tapping.
Prior to tonight, I’m not sure if I would’ve said yes. But there was something about today. Perhaps it was the high of solving a seemingly impossible case. Perhaps it was the joy of sticking it to Foreman. However, the most likely explanation for the warmth pooling within my cunt was the fact that House was staring at me like he wanted to eat me until my legs were shaking.
God, I really needed to get fucked.
“Are you serious?”
“Would you like me to be serious?”
House’s voice dropped to a sultry murmur.
“Yes…”
I whispered.
“And… yes.”
House gestured downwards via a small head motion.
“Well… why don’t you go ahead and sit your pretty little ass down on my desk.”
He commanded. He didn’t ask. I obeyed, praying my shaky legs didn’t abandon me. I hoisted myself up onto his desk, the cold glass seeping through my lab coat. House stood, leisurely making his way towards me. He wasn’t using his cane.
House pushed himself between my legs. His cold blue eyes gazed down at me. The breath hitched in my throat, lips parting subtly as I attempted to make my search for oxygen inconspicuous. A calloused hand found my cheek, rough thumb pads brushing against my pink cheek.
“Look at you, such a pretty girl.”
His other hand rested against the swell of my hips.
“And all for me. Aren’t I lucky?”
Both hands were now placed atop my belt. Without warning, House tugged me forward, our pelvises colliding, faces now mere centimeters away. I gasped as my clothed clit brushed against his semi-hard cock.
House’s lips pressed against my jugular, kisses beginning soft but gradually turning much more erotic.
“God, do you feel that? Do you feel what you’re doing to me?”
His voice was even and unwavering. I would expect nothing less from Dr. Gregory House. I impulsively began to push my mouth against his growing bulge. House growled lowly, fingertips tightening against my hips as he ground his cock against me.
I choked as House’s clothed erection pushed the seam of my jeans against my swollen clit. He drew his face away from my neck, blown pupils catching my gaze.
He exhaled, a rough palm pressing against my neck. Without a word, he utilized his grasp to gently push me until my back collided with the glass desk. His hand wasn’t seizing; it wasn’t restricting my airflow. It was merely there, a subtle demonstration of his dominance.
He placed himself between my legs, the warmth of his cock radiating onto my core. House’s hand released my neck, advancing downwards. His skilled fingers began to make quick work of my belt buckle. His stare didn’t falter, icy eyes boring into mine.
He yanked my jeans downward, pulling off my heels in the process. All items were thrown to the side, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. The cool air blew against my wet cunt. I shivered, my skin now covered with goosebumps.
My head fell to the side, perceiving the large glass wall.
“House.”
I groaned.
“Shh.”
House interrupted my protestation.
“If anyone walks by and decides to take a look, I’ll kill ‘em.”
His tone did not possess a hint of humor. House pressed the tip of his finger against my clothed clit. A bolt of electricity jolted through me. I arched my back off the desk, involuntarily moaning.
“My, my, my, someone’s eager.”
I wailed as House pushed my soaked panties to the side and pressed a coarse fingertip to my engorged bundle of nerves. I clasped a hand on my mouth, trying to hide the moans and groans that were spilling from my plush lips.
House made use of his free hand. He grabbed my wrist, pinning it above my head.
“Don’t you dare do that. Let me hear you.”
He slid one singular digit past the opening of my cunt, curling it upwards. After a few slow, languid thrusts of his finger, he inserted another.
“Oh fuck—Oh my God. House-that, that feels so good.”
House shook his head.
“No, no, no. What’s my name?”
I grasped the table, knuckles turning white. My vocal cords spasmed as House continued to pump his digits inside me, now with much more urgency.
“Doctor.”
I muttered. A smirk spread over House’s face.
“That’s my good girl.”
He dropped to his knees, groaning, shifting his weight. My panties were soon discarded, my soaking cunt now fully exposed. House threw my knees over his shoulders. He began to kiss my inner thigh, biting every now and then. His rough stubble brushed against my supple skin. The scratching was a lovely contrast to his smooth lips.
House gazed at me through his lashes, taking in my twisted expression as he prolonged the moment. I rolled my hips.
“If you want something, you have to ask for it.”
I bit my tongue, waiting a moment, praying that House would have mercy on me.
“Come on, good girl. I need you to use your words. Otherwise, I may not be so generous.”
My chest heaved, head fuzzy.
“Doctor, please, I—I need your mouth.”
House ran his tongue along my inner thigh, moving away from my core.
“Where do you need my mouth?”
I huffed in protest.
“I need it on my pussy.”
House chuckled.
“My good girl has a dirty little mouth on her.”
House buried his face between my thighs, tongue immediately connecting with my clit.
“Ah! Fuck! Doctor!”
My fingers dug into his hair, nails raking against his scalp. House hummed in delight, the vibrations reverberating against my clit.
“You taste so good.”
I felt a finger probe at my entrance. House inserted two digits, assuming a steady pace. He sucked my clit and fucked my g spot in perfect unison.
My legs began to shake. House’s hand snaked up my body, his grasp tightening around my clothed breast.
“Doctor… I-I’m gonna cum Doctor.”
House continued his actions without fumbling for even a second. My body was on fire, blood pumping through my body with every rapid heartbeat.
The coil within my lower abdomen was pulled taunt.
“Be a good girl and cum for me.”
With that I was sent toppling over the edge, orgasm rushing over me like a waterfall. I came all over House’s face. He continued to fuck my velvety walls with his fingers, allowing me to ride out my orgasm.
The heaving of my chest began to slow. House removed his lips from my cunt with a soft pop. He grasped my neck, this time with much more urgency, and hoisted me up until I was sitting with ideal posture.
“Take off your clothes.”
He released my neck. I stood, pushing him back ever so slightly. We were chest to chest. He stared down at me, his stubbled chin damp with my slick.
I shrugged off my lab coat. Then, I pulled my sweater over my head, throwing it to the side. I reached around to my back, unclasping my bra and adding it to the pile of forgotten clothing.
House kneeled down, grabbing the lab coat I had discarded. He threw it around me, dragging it up my arms until it rested on my shoulders.
“Keep this on for me.”
House used his hold on the lapels of my lab coat to tug me inwards, our lips colliding once more. I could taste my orgasm on his lips, on his tongue. My fingers tangled in his hair, the other attempting to undo his belt buckle.
House retracted, grasping my wrist, halting my movements.
“That’s my job. Your job is to turn around and bend over for me.”
I complied, turning and pressing my bare chest onto his glass desk. The chill of the material hardened my nipples. Behind me, I heard the clink of a belt buckle and the gentle thump of House’s pants hitting the floor.
He moved the back of my lab coat to the side, my ass now on full display for his wandering gaze. He smacked the soft flesh once, then twice. Each time I moaned, burying my face in the crook of my arm.
“You’re dirty; I like it.”
His tip began to prod at my sopping entrance. I pushed my hips back, trying to coax him into fucking me.
“Be a good girl, be patient.”
He traced my hole thrice with the leaking tip, then moved to my clit. House pressed it against my overstimulated bundle of nerves. I mewled, knees buckling.
House suddenly slammed all of his length inside of me, filling me to the brim. I cried with pleasure as his thick length nearly tore me in two.
“Doctor! Oh my God, Doctor, you feel so good!”
House leaned over me, bracing his body with his strong arms to avoid placing unnecessary pressure on his leg. He pulled out, then slammed back into me with a hard thrust. His balls slammed against my clit.
He tangled a hand in my messy hair, pulling my head upwards as the rhythm of his hips quickened. House leaned down, front pressed against my back, hot breath grazing my cheek.
“Do you like this, good girl? Do you like how the doctor’s fucking you?”
I attempted to nod, but House’s ironclad grip on my roots prevented me from doing so.
“Yes! Fuck, yes, I love it! I love it so much, doctor!”
House tucked his face into my shoulder, pressing tender kisses to my jugular. His soft lips were a stark contrast from the brutality of his thrusts. However, they quickly morphed into animalistic bites that were sure to leave marks the next day.
I felt my second orgasm of the night rapidly approaching. House’s tip slammed against every tender spot within my walls. I reached up, hands looking for something to grab onto. Instead, I ended up knocking nearly every item off of House’s desk. Pencils, pens, files, foam balls, and much more all toppled to the floor.
“Doctor, I—I’m gonna cum again.”
House maintained his pace, a second orgasm ripping through me. My nerves were on fire. I let out a pornographic moan as the best orgasm of my life washed over me. However, House’s moves did not stall; they did not gradually come to a halt. He continued to fuck me through my orgasm, my spongy walls screaming for a release.
“Doctor, I—I can’t.”
House removed his body from mine; his strong hands flipped me over, his cock remaining deep inside me.
“I’m not done with you yet, good girl. You got one more in you; I know you do.”
As I opened my mouth to protest, I realized that my overstimulated walls had begun to embrace House’s cock. His thrusts began to feel pleasurable once more.
“You look divine in that lab coat.”
He leaned over me.
“It looks even better when you’ve got nothing on underneath, though.”
One fingertip began to trace down my neck, down my sternum, and down my stomach until he reached my clit. My entire body erupted in fat goosebumps. He pinched it aggressively. I jolted, back arching.
My tits bounced with each thrust. The new angle allowed House to abuse my g spot even more so than before.
My third orgasm of the night came hastily. I placed my hands on either side of House’s face, caressing his stubbled skin. He stared into my eyes, his gaze bearing a hint of sincerity. The loud moans that were once ripping through me had now reduced to low pants.
“Doctor, I—I’m gonna cum again.”
House gulped.
“Please, call me House good girl.”
I nodded, my mouth twisting into a small smile.
“House, I’m gonna cum again.”
House continued his brutal attack on my pussy. The coil within the depths of my abdomen began to tighten again. There was heat. Sweet, delicious heat radiating from his body.
My walls tightened around him, hugging his glorious length.
“I’m gonna cum too, Y/N.”
His usage of my name pushed me even closer to the edge. We maintained eye contact, his sternness melting away to reveal a sweet and caring persona.
With a few more harsh thrusts and brutal strikes to my g-spot, the ball of electricity in my stomach erupted. Shockwaves expelled from my core, sending my entire body into a state of pure euphoria. Shortly after, House emitted one last, final moan as he painted my walls with his seed. I relaxed, the warmth of his cum easing my electrified body.
House pulled out, hastily shoving his dripping cock back into his pants. He involuntarily placed weight on his leg. He groaned in pain, falling to the floor. I scrambled to my feet, bending down to accompany him on the carpet.
“Oh my god, are you okay?”
The brief flash of pain on his face morphed into a smirk of delight. House took a few deep, calculated breaths.
“I’m fucking perfect.”
His eyes fluttered closed. In the dim, cold hospital light he appeared almost beautiful. I climbed into his lap, enjoying his delicious warmth. House wrapped his arms around me, pulling me even closer. I rested my head against his shoulder, suddenly overcome with a desire to sleep.
“Do you need a ride home?”
He inquired. I shook my head.
“No. I have my car.”
House scoffed.
“Well, yes, I am aware that you have a car. And, you could drive it. Or, I could drive you home.”
I drew my face away from his shoulder, staring into his eyes, which possessed a touch of humor. I cocked a brow.
“How am I gonna get to work tomorrow without a car?”
House placed a hand on my head, his fingers carefully running through my knotted hair. He paused.
“Well… maybe when I drop you off, I could take a little trip inside. Make sure there aren’t any bad guys.”
I giggled and rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, Princeton, New Jersey, is a pretty dangerous place.”
Summary: You and Chase have been best friends since u two met at a medical conference. He put a good word in with House, and since then you were part of the best diagnostics department of the United States, but a certain dr catches your eyes.
Warnings: Kinda spicy? I’d appreciate if minors don’t interact! :)
Length: short
Important: This takes place in like the first season, so Wilson is 38! And y/n is 25, just like chase is in s1! Oh and I also am not a professional medical person, so if u want extreme accuracy don’t read this lol.
A/N: I’m back from the dead!! (I mean I hope so) keep in mind English isn’t my first language. If u guys want this to be a series pls say so!! :) and sorry if its shit, Its been a while since I wrote something.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It was late. You we’re sitting next to Cameron, who was in deep discussion with Foreman on why it couldn’t be the sickness he described.
“I’m telling you, it doesn’t add up!” Foreman said as he rubbed his temples in annoyance.
“Sometimes I’m wondering if all of you guys share one stupid braincell.” House said as he rolled his eyes, which made you chuckle. He leaned onto his cane and sighs.
“Chase, Cameron, do tests. Foreman, search his house.” He said as he waved them off. He grabbed the file and shoved it into your arms.
“Y/n, go to Wilson and rule out some different type of cancers.”
“What are you going to do?” You asked, a bit puzzled. He looked back at you.
“I’m going to brainstorm in my personal bubble.” He said as he walked away towards his office. He’s definitely gonna play videogames. You sighed. You didn’t wanna go to Wilson, he was probably busy himself as it was quite late and he was still here. And if you were completely honest, being around him made you feel a certain type of way. The way he leans against the wall in the hallway, his big brown eyes in which u could literally lose yourself, his arms, you could go on forever. Some things about him just makes your body flutter in excitement. Your whole body.
You hold the file loosely in your left hand as u walked towards Wilson his office. Luckily it was next to the diagnostics department so you didn’t have to walk far.
You arrived at his office door and softly knocked with the back of your right hand.
“Dr. Wilson?” You softly spoke against the door.
“Come in!” You heard from the other side of the door. You grabbed the door handle and slowly opened the door. Wilson wasn’t sitting in his office chair. You peeked your head around the door and saw him sitting in the chair across the couch. His hair was a bit ruffled, his sleeves rolled up and his tie was laying on the couch. All different kinds of files were spread across the coffeetable in front of him.
“Are you alright?” You chuckled as you stepped inside his office, closing the door behind you. He turned his head towards you.
“Ah, y/l/n.” He said and smiled, which made your heart skip a beat.
“Uh, yeah kinda.” He quickly said as he looked back at the table. “Alot of stuff I have to finish in the next couple of days so it’s quite uh- chaotic.” He chuckled, which made you smile. You walked towards his desk and leaned against it.
“You got a file u want me to check out?” Wilson said as he nodded towards the file in your hand.
“Uh- yeah. Sorry-“ You apologised, which gave Wilson a small smirk across his face. You quickly gave your file to Wilson, who opened it. While he was quickly scanning the file, you couldn’t help it but to stare at him. The way his sleeves are half rolled up, exposing his underarm. How his fingers smoothly slide across the paper in front of him, how his blouse is a bit open which made you fantasize even more. A small cough quickly made you come back from your fantasy, a bit flustered. Wilson softly chuckled.
“It’s not cancer, thats for sure.” He said as he closed the file. He stood up and walked towards you. “Is there.. Something else you’d like to discuss?” He asked, his voice a bit lower then before. You could sense a bit of curiosity in his tone.
He walked even closer, the space between you and Wilson was now completely gone. Your hips softly pushed against the desk. You could feel the warmth of his body on yours. Wilson placed his hand on the side of his desk, next to yours.
“You shouldn’t stand so close-“ You murmured, but your heart told you otherwise.
“Maybe not,” He said with a half smirk. “But you aren’t moving either.” He teased. The smell of his faint cologne almost made you faint. He placed his other hand on the other side of the desk, which made you be placed in between them. The tension was unbearable until you gave in. He slowly leaned in, giving you all the time in case you wanted to pull away but of course you didn’t want that. You softly melted into the kiss, it was tender at first but the second kiss was alot sloppier, messier with the second like he was holding it in for too long. Your hand traveled across his body, tugging onto his blouse to pull him closer. He slid his hand across the desk, steadying you both as the kiss deepened.
You finally broke apart, both catching your breath. He smiled before he crashed his lips onto yours again, but this time with more urgency, like he couldn’t keep it in anymore. Wilson softly placed his hand on your jaw, tilting you a bit to deepen the kiss. His thump softly brushing your cheek. You kept tugging him closer, wanting to feel him as close as possible until his hip bumps into the desk. He lifted you upon the desk. You wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands on both sides of your hips, slowly travelling towards your ass.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmered as he started to kiss your jaw.
You didn’t say a word as a moan softly escaped your lips which made Wilson smirk against your neck.
Then the door bursts open, which made Wilson and you jump up. Chase stood in the doorway with Cameron behind him, both in shock.
“Oh” Chase said and chuckled.
“Ehm, we.. uh.. came to ask if you guys had any ideas already.. But we’ll- uh come back.” She said awkwardly as she grabbed Chase by his wrist, pulling him towards the hallway and closing the door behind them.
Wilson and you exchanged the same look and chuckled. His hair was a mess, your hair was a mess.. everything was a mess.
“This-“ He said while looking back at you, smiling. “Isn’t over.” He said which made you smirk as you quickly pulled him in a short, sloppy kiss.
